I hate goodbyes.

Living, as we do, in a place where transient military families are part of the reality, you'd think it would get easier to say goodbye when people move on.

It doesn't.

What are the options? We can hold people at arm's length and try not to get close to avoid the hurt that will inevitably come when they leave; or we can open our hearts and our arms and love intensely while knowing a departure will come.

This summer we have said goodbye to too many people. The Waters family left for a new assignment, the Andrew family likewise. Gus Fimbres went to San Diego to care for his aging father, and Mike, Roxanne and Jenna Doidge moved to Gig Harbor, Washington upon Mike's retirement from the U.S. Navy. They were with us for almost six years, a very long time as military assignment go. Even after 31 years of military service and achieving the rank of Commander Mike was about the least-likely Naval Officer I have ever known. Roxanne was pretty much single-handedly responsible for nudging Windward Worship Center out of our warm, complacent cocoon and into the world of caring for the homeless and the forgotten.

It is not productive to live life with our eyes focused on the rear-view mirror, so we take what was wonderful, and enriching and joyful in each of those relationships - we build upon those things and allow them to propel us forward, and we treasure the memories.

And still, we hate goodbyes.