Saying Goodbye

I pulled up my schedule on the computer and looked at it.  On the left were patient names and to the right were the reasons for their visits.

I scanned over them and a couple jumped out at me.  One was woman in her thirties and the other was a man in his nineties, both coming in for the same reason.  "Just wants to say good-bye to Dr. Waldron."

It is hard to believe that there is only about a week until I am done seeing patients at Comprehensive Health Care -- a place where I have practiced medicine for the last sixteen and a half years.  Our family is moving to Virginia to get closer to family, but part of my heart will always reside here.

I didn't know much about southern Indiana when I came to visit seventeen years ago, but over the time since, I have grown to love its beauty.  Whether it is the sun poking its head above the edge of Patoka Lake at Jackson Boat Ramp, or the same sun setting behind the Pete Dye Golf Course, or a misty morning at Tucker Lake, there has been more than enough to keep my eyes filled with the beauty and my camera busy.

But that's not really what I'll miss.

You see, a community is made of people and when you are a family doc, you have the privilege of walking beside people in that community through hard times and seeing them come out the other side.  You get to be present for a baby's first cry and for a 90 year old's last breath -- and lots of other stuff in between.

The biggest challenge, I suppose, is being a little light in the darkest of situations.

All of that is to say that I will miss the people of Paoli.  The crotchety old men and the sweet old ladies, the children who scream when they see me and the ones who give me hugs when they leave -- all of them have a place in my heart that won't be lost. 

Even now, I pray for them -- for each one of them.  I'm not one of their parents, but I care and that won't change just because I'm moving away.

As I leave Paoli, I have a lot of pictures of the beauty around here, but more important is that I have a mind that is full to the brim with the memories of laughter and tears and prayers shared with wonderful people who let me into their hearts more than just a little bit.

It is the people who make a community -- not the splendor or grandeur of its scenery.

It is them that I will miss.