Carpe Diem.

This has been a week of many farewells.
One of my close colleagues (there are only 4 teachers at the school where I work, so we are all quite close!) leaves us today for an exciting adventure teaching in Beijing. We had an informal, but quite moving, afternoon tea for her yesterday and although she says goodbye to the students this afternoon we are taking her out for dinner on Saturday for a proper farewell.
This goodbye is really an au revoir, as her contract is just 15 months and I expect she'll pop back to NZ to visit her grandchildren, but school just won't be the same without her.  It won't be worse, just different - and I'm sure we'll soon form equally close bonds with the lady who's replacing her.

Sadly, the other farewells have been more permanent.  We also officially lose a teacher aide today, although in practice we lost her a few weeks ago.  She has advanced terminal pancreatic cancer, and is very very unwell at the moment.  6 months ago she was a fit and healthy 64 year old who worked with us and farmed 68 acres on her own.  This week she has been planning her own funeral.  The positive side of the situation, if there can be one, is that she is finally reconciled with her children after a few years of animosity on both sides.

The final farewell, as it were, is not a personal one - but it holds a strong message for us all.  A friend of mine lost her mother this week, unexpectedly and completely out of the blue.  My friend is only just 40, so although I don't know her mother, I'm assuming that she was only in her mid-late 60s. The trouble is that my friend had had a fairly long running disagreement with her mother, and rarely spoke with her even though she lived less than an hour's drive away.
My friend is now riddled with guilt at not fixing the problems with their relationship earlier.

I don't want this blog to be a place of sadness and despair.  But these three farewells all have their own message that I feel is important.
My colleague who is off to Beijing has had the courage to follow a dream.  She sees life as an unfolding adventure, and will be successful wherever she goes because she has faith that everything happens for a reason and it is her job to make the best of every situation.  She may regret a few things that she's done, but that's nothing to the pain of regretting the things you left undone and no longer have time for.

"Always do the things you might regret not doing" is something of a family motto for us.  It shapes the way I deal with my friends, my colleagues, my students and my family.  It allows me to take the conciliatory ground when I need to, to take risks when I feel I must, and occasionally stops me from making a complete fool of myself.
My friend wishes she had seized the day with her mother and mended the hurt between them.  My sick colleague has mended her bridges, but so very late that she has little time to cross them completely.

They are a reminder to me that I need to rise above petty quarrels, be magnanimous, go the extra mile for the special people in my life... because nothing is as draining and hurtful and futile as those animosities that stop you enjoying each other's company and having fun.
In the big picture, you must seize the day.  Treat each one as a precious gift, and value those around you who are part of your big picture.
Carpe diem.