the hardest goodbyes

What is that?

There are no words that I know that can describe this experience…and yet there are many. Too many for me to describe all the things we’ve been through, I guess. And, to be honest, I’m having a hard time writing this. Before now (before the ride back to NYC), I kept thinking of all the things I would put down and reminisce about in our final entry, but now that I’m doing it, I’m just not sure how I could describe all the new things that have happened.  

How can I describe the great expanse of stars on a clear New Hampshire night? There is a stunning sense of clarity when you stare up at the twinkling orbs set before you. The intense inability to speak as you lean back to get a better look.  That distinct twinge in your neck that tells you that you’re going to have a sore neck if you don’t take a break. And then the feeling of awe at seeing a shooting star. How can I describe ziplining to someone who’s never felt that same thrill? With the wind tearing at you as you soar through the trees. The feeling of flight as you come so close to the trees but never touch them. 

There is so much beauty here, in more than the landscape. It imbues itself in the people that live here. Every single person we’ve met has been so kind. It was hard to say goodbye to them last night. But Sara told us something I seemed to have forgotten since I’ve been here. She said that the hardest goodbyes are usually the ones that come after a time that we love. Despite my weak paraphrase of the great truth she told us, what she said really hit me. And to be honest, I suck at goodbyes. 

Bridge building success.

So, instead of saying goodbye to New Hampshire, I’m going to say see you soon. I don’t doubt that I’ll be back again. I can’t wait to see what new adventures await me in the future, and I can smile knowing that New Hampshire will be a part of it.

-Samantha Hoffman