You took me under your wings, taught me how to do my job, gave me the best advice for navigating Jerusalem, invited me along, shared sunsets with me, opened your arms and hearts to me. You blessed me in ways you cannot even begin to imagine.
Now it has become my turn to bless you.
Kneeling before you, one hand on each of you; praying praying praying with our brothers and sisters that the beauty of what you've learned and who you've become will continue to be a part of your futures, no matter where you go.
Hearing and agreeing with all the beautiful things people have to say about you as they bid you goodbye.
Sitting with you, just talking and laughing.
Walking our favorite routes, one last time.
Kneeling beside you, one hand on your knee, one hand on your back; your hands held by a dear brother and sister, the others crowding as close as they can, hands on your shoulders, back, knees, hovering over your hair; fighting back my own tearful nausea; trying my hardest to absorb some of the grief I can feel coming from you with each wave of sobbing tears, to pour into you the love I have for you.
Watching a dear brother give you one last beautiful gift of service, as he's been doing for the past month-- carrying your suitcase to the waiting sheirut and engaging the driver in conversation to buy you a few last moments to say goodbye.
Giving one last hug and kiss as you are rushed into the sheirut.
Running running running, and waving after your vehicle as it takes you away from me.
Standing in your mostly-empty room, wishing you were here with me . . .
And I hope you realize how very much you will be missed . . .
I know we'll meet again
'Cause that's how the Story ends
It's so hard to say