“I’m losing you.”
“No, you are not. I’ll
still be here.”
“I know, but that’s what
it feels like.”
As the train pulls from
the station, my hair is tossed and swirls by the gust of wind the metal beast
produces. I watch longingly as the train rounds the corner and linger as the
sound of its chugging grows softer and softer until no longer perceptible. I
delay but a few more moments as if I may still see it return for me, but alas,
it never does. I remember the first day I
embarked upon my journey to this place.
I remember the hugs and cheers of family and friends as I boarded. I
remember with crystal clarity as I drew up the shoulder strap of my bag cinched
tight to my shoulder. I remember as I quietly took my seat amidst the bustle of
the train car pulling myself close the window. I recall the cool touch of the pane
as my forehead pressed against it, my breath clouding the glass. As the train
let off her thunderous cry, my body jolted as we slowly began our advance. I watched
as our speed picked up, as everything familiar passed away to fade into
oblivion. My surroundings quickly changed, yet I was afraid to direct my
attention to within the car, for that meant admitting that we truly weren’t
going back. The warm voice to our conductor rang through the car. I felt safe.
I knew this was where I was supposed to be.
Over the next three years
aboard, this train became my home, the other passengers my family. Together, we
made our way through breath-taking mountain ranges, braving also the deepest
valleys. We awoke and danced together when the sun would smile her face towards
us, we would cry with one another as we rode on through the darkest blacks of
night. We made stops like this one along the way and we would wave as our loved
ones reached their destinations. Some we lost this way. Yet these were the
happy endings. There were also seasons of travel where we would awake in the
middle of the night, alarms sounding through our cabins. It wasn’t long before
the news came of another passenger who had jumped from the train into the
blackness of the night. We would gather. We would weep as bitter pain crept
through our souls, punching us at the deepest parts. Yet every time, the
conductor voice would be heard, deep and warm as it always was. “We will
advance, your journey is not yet complete.” Made stronger, drawn closer by the
pain, we would move forward still.
I had no idea that my stop
would come so soon. What once was a fear to board is now a fear of
departure. What will this destination
look like? Who will be there waiting for me? What will the air taste like, how
will it feel? How will I find my way around? With whom will I spend my time?
I sit with a dear friend,
by the window where I sat on my first day aboard. She looks at me with wide
eyes. Her face is filled with emotion, both of joy and excitement, yet still
tainted by fear and loss.
“I’m really excited for
you, you know.”
I smile. As am I.
“I never thought it would
come this soon.”
“Me neither. But just
think of the whole new world you can explore out there.”
I have. Over and over
again. Bottled in my chest, the fear has turned to anticipation, uncertainty
into excitement. I can’t wait to explore what is ahead of my after I disembark.
“I know. It’s thrilling the
terrifying at the same time. It’s just crazy to think I’m not coming back
here.”
“Yeah…but you’re ready. I
know it. I am so proud of you. Who you’ve become. Who you are.”
Her eyes are kind, yet
sadness is laced within them, deeper than most people would ever notice. But I
do.
“Thank you. We’re still
doing this together you know. It’s an adventure for both of us.”
Silence lingers between us
for just a moment.
“I’m losing you.”
“No, you are not. I’ll
still be here.”
“I know, but that’s what
it feels like.”
“Like I said, it’s an
adventure for both of us. I just will be growing out there as you continue on
the journey laid before you here.”
She smiles. Neither of us
can predict what will happen next. Many would be lost in confusion, yet here
there is peace. We embrace only for a moment before the train cries its shrill,
sharp call. My stop has come.
She helps me to gather my
belongings and we walk to the door. Friends begin pouring from their cars to
wish me well, though I know we will still see each other every day. Three steps
off the car and I have reached the ground. Sweet air fills my lungs. New
passengers climb aboard, gleaming with expectation, chattering amongst
themselves with faces aglow. I smile at them, reminiscing my own experiences. The
door hinges cry as they close, the train breathes deeply with a loud hushhhhh.
The large metal snake heaves herself into motion and I watch her disappear.
Ready to face my newest adventure, I turn to face the new world I am now set
within. A familiar voice rings through my mind. The conductor. He is with me
even here, nearer than ever. Wait, could it be? All this time, the conductor,
my Father? He whispers gentle words, He guides me on as I navigate this new
world. Gaze forward, bag packed, I take the first step towards my future, my
Father by my side as He has always been. 
