To yieu, and yieu, and yieu

I am spectacularly poor at saying goodbye. It doesn't matter what I'm trying to do - write the ending to a story or the finale to a piece of music...heck, I have problems ending phone calls. I either get flustered and hang up abruptly, or taper off uncertainly into that last "click". How about just going gentle into that good night?

I always worry about saying too much, or not enough, or simply none of the right things whatsoever. It's so much easier when the goodbyes are scripted: a moving speech, a tearful hug, a wistful wave as you fade into the distance to the deep, scratchy "Here's looking at you, kid."

"Oh, but your watch, but you shouldn't. You're gonna need this!"
"It's ok. It doesn't work."

Compounding the problem, for me, is a farewell pungently seasoned with recognition. A "good job" or a "thanks" at the moment, a barely imperceptible nod and smile, a passive "that was nicely done"... these I appreciate and (maybe later, on reflection,) welcome. But anything more and I'm uncannily embarrassed. My leadership philosophy is outlined well in the Tao Te Ching:

The great ruler works without self-interest
and leaves no trace
When it is all finished, the people say
"It happened by itself."

That sort of ideal meshes uncomfortably with recognition. But thank you anyway, thank you for all you've put into me; and I hope someday to pay it forward.

I fly out Wednesday. Time for the next chapter.

"Though I must go, endure not yet a breach, but an expansion..."