Gradually darkness will fall heavily upon the blue sky and close its weary eyes to sleep- on this very last day at home before I leave for ten months to Japan- a final, natural curtain that will seperate gleeful, wet, hot, stormy summer days from ones that I can only dream of.
In the summer I forced myself to work, work, work so that I would not have the energy and time to turn worries into dramatics in my head, but as the date neared- as the one-week-to-go check point ticked by- suddenly all of those thoughts and fears and uncertainties flooded forth in a big rush. I could not eat, for my stomach was knotted, I could not sleep, for late night fears could not be suppressed, and I was left in stress, confusion and exhuastion. This state and the crazy jumble of my mind caused me to glare meanly at the world, though I felt only fear.
The night before my older brother, Asa, went off to college, I realized I could not bear to let him go without a parting letter. As I sat down on my bed to write, I relived all of the memories of growing up with him, of him making dandelion braids in the spring for me to wear as a crown, of missing him when he went off to boarding school, of thinking proudly of his strength, tranquility and intellegence while working on the farm with him this summer. Those blissful memories paralyzed me with sadness and before I knew it I was crying – letting loose completely for the first time this summer. I buried my head in my pillow and tears streamed down my face as I cried for Asa, I cried for my fears, I cried for the goodbyes I had to make to Mommy, to Daddy, to Kazami, to my best friend, Rhea…to everyone, and to my home.
It took me a while to finish the letter, but later, when I bounded up to Asa lying on his bed to give him the envelope, I looked at him and smiled.
The Goodbye Letters are all finished and presently sit on my bed, waiting to be given out, to be read. The letters have helped me put an end to most of my sadness, and now, the night before departure, I feel perfectly calm.
I understand fully that this will be the most difficult trip of my life, that anything could happen and that I will miss those I love more than I can ever comprehend. I understand all of this, yet I feel as if I am ready.
I am ready for an adventure that will change my life forever.
And so, in the calm after the storm, I wait for the curtain of darkness to fall.
Aozora Brockman 
I am really satisfied with this posting that you have given us. This is really nicr work done by you. Thank you and looking for more posts.
I thought about coming over to say goodbye, but figured you had enough goodbyes to get through. Also wanted to remember the relaxed goodbye after we sat around watching you play hackey-sack after your party.
You will always remember this parting and this new beginning, and in future difficult times you will remember that after the storm comes calmness, and after the curtain of night a new day.
Your brothers are so lucky to have you as a sister. Heck — we’re all so lucky to have you in our lives. Now a bunch of Japanese people are about to feel lucky, too!
I put a new picture up on Henry’s site, and will be thinking of you as we harvest tomorrow and you begin your new life. Write and tell us about it soon!
dear sweet blessed zoe, holding you in the white light of a prayerful place tonight and tomorrow and the days beyond, till next we hear from you and know you are breathing easily again. you are SOOOO brave. and this is big. and here you go. so sorry for all your tears, but so glad they flowed instead of staying corked inside……..
blessings.
b.