Full Stops

Today at 12.30, several of my now ex-colleagues and I went out for dumplings to mark the end of my six-week contract. I have worked for organisations for a number of years that have been easier to walk away from.

As we departed, they to return to the office, me to catch a tram, I got to thinking about farewells.

I respect it, although it sometimes hurts, the way kids don't concern themselves with sentimental goodbyes. They don't look back - are ever-ready to throw themselves at the next adventure.

On the other hand, when I have travelled overseas, I have often felt jibbed of a good farewell. Most of the people I met exchanged email addresses instead of bona fide finalities.

I'm not talking about trimming the fat and neatening the edges, and what you might call closure. I don't think it's that that I am after. I think it's more a cross between closing one door so another one opens, and honouring each shared experience for what it was.

I guess I must also be talking about facing my own death, because isn't that what our mortality makes us do - become accomplished at not turning away from The Ends?