A reflection on change and a look at the words we use to say goodbye.

Doug Bunnell, Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in Bellingham, doesn't like the term religion.

Standing in a side room of the First Presbyterian Church on Garden Street, Pastor Bunnell and three other coworkers brainstorm famous last words.

"Wanna hear a joke?" Pastor Bunnell said.

Two men are talking at a funeral. They share stories and good times and reminisce about their recently deceased friend. Stories of tragedy and comedy and hate and confusion and all the complexities that make a person well worth loving. After talking for a while, one of the men explained how he appreciated how thoughtful the deceased man was. He was a deeply contemplative man and always seemed to know the right thing to say. You could tell he was wise beyond his years. The other man became silent for a bit, then said he also enjoyed how thoughtful the recently deceased was.

When we were on the ship before he died, the other man began, he was screaming from the water, “I'm thinking, I'm thinking, I’m thinking!”

Last words. Maybe "Thanks," "Have a good night" or "I love you."

“Stay safe,” “Have fun, but not too much fun,” “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

They dictate how we leave, and they shape how we change.

# Moving

Basil Pendragon stepped over his bags, nearly slipping on the wooden porch outside the door. His mother’s house on Lopez Island is old, around 100 years. The stone blocks that lead up to the porch are cracked. Lopez Island is a small, tight-knit and friendly community. At just under 29.5 square miles, Lopez Island is around three-fourths the size of Disney World. If all the Lopez Island residents went to see a game at the Civic Stadium in Bellingham, Washington, just under two-thirds of the seats would be filled.

Pendragon has been living with his mother on Lopez Island for 19 years.

“Looking at all my mother's junk. I guess all my stuff reflects her stuff,” Pendragon, a collector of bones and rocks, said.

After packing for the previous couple of days, he is ready to make the final move. The moving process has been arduous and drawn out. Pendragon was moving to Bellingham to live on his own for the first time.

“I was her last child to move out and I’m not sure if it was easier or harder,” Pendragon said. “I was already anxious and annoyed and a lot of emotions. And she was crying and I was almost crying.”

He grabbed his bags from the front porch and left.

# Breakup

Zoey Sheffield met her partner freshman year, and they began dating toward the end of the school year. They dated for the summer, but once they both returned to Bellingham for school, something felt different. The spark had ceased.

“You know there’s a feeling when something has ended or is dying off or is rotting away,” Sheffield said.

It can be hard to keep going if you know something isn't working. “The end was more about change,” Sheffield said.

The mid-October days were getting shorter and the leaves grew redder and darker until they fell to the ground. The prospect of Halloween was ahead, but pumpkins had yet to litter front porches. Sheffield was leaving a dinner party and texted her partner to come over. They needed to talk.

Sheffield and her partner sat and talked in her basement bedroom. Her room has a single small window perpendicular to the ground with a black curtain over it to keep the morning sun at bay. Outside, the 11 p.m. night sky was large and the moon was nearly full. Her walls are white and decorated with memorabilia pieces.

They talked and relished and shared memories. They both knew what needed to happen. After they broke up, they lay, sharing each other's company for a bit longer.

“It’s the last time that person is really gonna feel like home,” Sheffield said.

After around 20 minutes, her now ex-partner got up and opened the door.

# Signing Off

The KUGS radio broadcasting room is medium-sized. It comfortably fits two to three, but during training days, can accommodate more. The broadcasting room is on the second story of the Viking Union, and the tips of the trees outside of the library are visible from the large southeast-facing window.

A chair faces the window and a crane arm mic and headphones dangle from above the mixer. To the right is a computer, and to the left is a binder with a pen.

Al Hartt, host of the Weird Kid Power Hour radio show usually arrives at the station at around 1 p.m. on Sundays, an hour before the show’s 2 p.m. start time.

“Welcome to the Weird Kid Power Hour with me, Al, your resident weird kid at this crazy school,” Hartt begins.

Hartt fills the two-hour radio show with all genres of music. Thematically weird and usually based around indie pop and indie rock: Ethel Cain, Phoebe Bridgers, Weezer or Depeche Mode.

“If it has a lot of beeps and boops, it can be included,” Hartt said.

After playing their last song of the day, Hartt pressed the talk button on the far left side of the control panel and began their farewell.

# Grief

Doug Bunnell prefers being referred to as a follower of Jesus.

As a pastor, Bunnell has preached last words for 36 years. He has been at the First Presbyterian Church on Garden Street for 22.

"Oh lord, your God is one," Deuteronomy 6:4. The Shema, the most famous Jewish prayer. According to Bunnell, the last thing many Jewish people want to say before they die.

"Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." The last words said to have been spoken by Jesus while on the cross.

“I’m so proud of you, call me when you’re on the ferry,” Pendragon’s mother said when Pendragon left Lopez Island to move to Bellingham.

“I have to go,” Sheffield's ex-partner said while leaving her room. “Yeah…see ya around,” Sheffield said.

“Thank you so much for listening to this installment,” Hartt said. “Thank you so much for listening. Sorry for thanking you guys so much, I guess I’m just feeling thankful. I’m gonna go hang out with some friends after this, and you should do the same!" Hartt said after signing off of the Weird Kid Power Hour radio show.

The Bible ends with “amen” while the Torah ends with “heart.” The Quran ends with “an-naas” meaning the people or mankind and the Bhagavad Gita with “Do not grieve.”

The endings we have day to day dictate the future we may have. They express how we handle change and how we move on.

Bunnell has helped people with many lasts. “I really encourage people to grieve. I don't think our society welcomes grief, and I don't think we do it well.” Bunnell was in the process of grieving the seasonal change from summer to fall and winter.

Bunnell has worked with college students for 18 years, and there were always college students who failed to thrive with the change, he explained. What he discovered was that most of those college students weren’t letting go of home.

“When people are trying to enter into something new, what they need to do most is to bring closure to the thing that is done.”

# Leaving

Jericho, who preferred his last name not to be included for legal reasons, is living a transitive life. For now, he lives between the binary of here or there; of moving or breaking up or signing off.

Last summer, after graduating from college, Jericho went on a two-and-a-half-month train-hopping trip.

He packed up all his things, had a friend move into his room and parked his car at a buddy's place. Loosely tied the knot, closed the door, signed the check, crossed the T’s and dotted the I’s. He had no obligations for months — an open book.

“Everything was wrapped up — two months, three months, more. We’re going to go to the East Coast,” Jericho said.

He and a friend began their trip by hitchhiking up to a trainyard in North Bend, British Columbia, a tiny town with a tiny little market and pretty much nothing else. You have to go across the river to get groceries, Jericho explained.

Once they arrived at the trainyard, they bushwhacked through fields and forests to get far enough back so they were away from the crossing where the trains stop and they risked being seen.

The trainyard sits on the edge of a drop-off and borders the Fraser River. The early August air was dry and the weather was beautiful, hot and sunny.

Train hopping is boring most of the time, Jericho explained. You wait there for 10 hours and then when the train arrives, it feels unreal. A sense of optimism for what could come. A sense of excitement for the future. You become good at waiting and dealing with stress. You become good at letting go. Letting go of the thoughts about whether you’re in the correct spot, what happens if you miss the train, what happens if you get caught. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. The ground begins to shake. The train can be heard in the distance. His body takes control. The next thing he knows, he’s heading east.