I know that change is natural, one of those constants in life. But this one is especially hard for me.

At Weber State, the Department of Physics & Astronomy is going through a big transition. My colleagues John Sohl and Stacy Palen announced at the start of the school year that they were transitioning to retirement, and now here we are at the end. Preparing to say goodbye to colleagues who have been so core to our mission feels like a tectonic shift, and my footing is a little unsteady right now.

If you’re at all familiar with the department or even Weber State more broadly, John and Stacy are individuals you’d likely recognize. Both with accolades and distinguished titles, they’ve contributed to their fields, classrooms and community in substantial ways. Countless engineers, doctors, poets, psychologists and others can point to Dr. Sohl or Dr. Palen as sparks in their careers.

You can count me among them.

I first met John in the bathroom on the second floor of the old science building. This sounds odd but, if you know John, you’ll picture it perfectly. I was there to interview just a few weeks before the start of the semester. John picked me out simply because he goes out of his way to be helpful even when it’s a step beyond any natural expectation. “You must be here for the physics teaching position.” I remember it as a statement rather than a question, and once I’d washed my hands, he showed me around the strange maze of hallways and labs.

Since that time, I’ve figured out that John can help with more than just finding the department office. He’s shared course materials, advice in labs, tips about teaching. He’s inherently made me safer in the backcountry just knowing that he could be the person who would have to rescue me with the county’s search and rescue team. He’s also given me advice about teaching my kids to drive, workshops in avalanche science, and mentorship on mentoring students.

Stacy was hired a few years after me, and her interview and visit here were memorable. I’d never met anyone quite like her, a flurry of enthusiasm and passion founded with a deep understanding of the universe, from dying stars to life on our planet. I suspected, too, that she was one of the most dedicated and gifted educators I’d ever meet. Two decades of working with her since have confirmed this. Stacy is a model educator, not just because of the clarity and wisdom she’s able to convey, but because of what she inspires in others, including me.

In years since, I’ve worked with Stacy on treks with teachers where some of the fondest teaching moments of my career were etched. She’s empathized with me about the lives of loved humans and sympathized about the deaths of loved animals. She’s given me a horse-riding lesson, which, it turns out, is about much more than riding a horse. If Stacy tells you you’re doing a good job and that you’re on the right course, you know it’s true and feel the strength to keep going.

John, who’s spent a career studying everything from the atomic to the atmospheric, will soon be sailing open waters, though he’ll still be around to rescue me from a mountain ridge if necessary. Stacy will be learning from her horse and still teaching us about astronomy in her writing. Both have been mentors to me in so many ways, offering wisdom, clarity and insight into not only the atomic and astronomical but critical pieces of our universe, like compassion and collaboration.

Most important now, these colleagues show me that none of us is simply one narrowly defined person. We can study planetary nebulae, run planetariums, ride horses; or we can study the atmosphere, probe atomic scales and sail oceans. We are all filled with potential to be all the myriad possibilities. And now they get to do something else, something different — and I’m thrilled to have their example to follow, and I’m delighted to wish them well.

But I’m still going to miss them.

Adam Johnston is a professor of physics and director of the Center for Science and Mathematics Education at Weber State University, where he helps prepare future teachers and supports educators throughout Utah.

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