Goodbye?

I’m terrible at goodbyes.  I try to avoid them…  I’ve always been bad at them.  My first memory of a goodbye, I was probably 4.  Amy Lowe, my best friend at the time had been over to play.  Her mother was there to pick her up, it was time for her to go home, and my heart was breaking.  I knew I would see her again soon, even at that age, I knew my emotions were illogical, but I couldn’t stop the sorrow or the tears that filled my eyes.  I can still picture her face that day, her smile, a small gap between her two front teeth and perfect blond hair, a lighter streak of almost white, bleached by the summer sun framing her face.

Cue goodbye memory number 2:  My mom was going on a date with my dad.  She called my name to tell me goodbye.  In rebellion of them leaving, I ran out of the room, crawled under their bed and cried.  When I finally crawled out, eyes red and puffy from the effort of mourning my loss and found the babysitter, I couldn’t believe they had left me there without saying goodbye… so offended, so heart broken.

Fast forward a few years to my 30s.  In a matter of a few short years, two of my best friends decide to move away within a couple of years of each other.  For weeks, I couldn’t even think about them moving without tearing up in anticipation of the pain.  I can still see them pulling out of their driveways to start their new lives… without me in it.  

It’s really ridiculous.  My reaction isn’t logical, and I haven’t found the root  of the response yet, so I continue to cry at goodbyes, mostly alone now.  I don’t break down in public… usually.

Oh, and I have a theme song for these events!!  How Can I Help You to Say Goodbye, by Patty Loveless.

Lately, this song has been haunting me.  It starts play on the radio station in my head ALL THE TIME!!  And it freaks me out, because at the end of the song, the mom dies, and I just can’t deal with that thought!  I need my mom!!

It goes like this:  The Life Director in my head: “Cue the 1990’s ballad, telling story of love or loss.  Feel the heart wrenching pain of the lyrics, cue the tears… and GO!”

Mama whispered softly, Time will ease your pain
Life’s about changing, nothing ever stays the same

And she said, How can I help you to say goodbye
It’s OK to hurt, and it’s OK to cry
Come, let me hold you and I will try
How can I help you to say goodbye

“And now, a waterfall of tear!  Great… and CUT!”

 

The song has been playing so frequently, that last week I was driving to work and had finally had enough.  “God, what is the deal?  What are you trying to tell me?

Then, I understood.  He’s not trying to tell me my mother is dying, but he is showing me that life is changing.  It’s normal, but it hurts like hell.  The song needs another verse, one where a mom has spent 20 years  loving her kids and then they grow up and leave her to start their own lives, but she is really bad at goodbyes and doesn’t know how to handle it, so she gets up to write a blog at 3 A.M. and bawls uncontrollably at her computer screen to the point that she cannot even see the lines she types because of the convulsions of pain wracking her body as she cries… and Mama whispers softly, time will ease your pain, life’s about changing nothing ever says the same…

I started saying goodbye to Ty at two weeks old.  I sat in the rocking chair in his room, reading him a book and cried because he was growing so much, and one day he would leave me and start his own life… My heart hurt so badly that this sweet little baby with his tiny fingers wrapped around mine, who only days earlier was kicking around inside my womb, a part of me, would leave me. (In all reality, it was probably undiagnosed postpartum depression)

But that day is here.  This sweet boy, who would crawl in bed with me and snuggle warm and fall asleep in my arms most mornings for the first two years of his life, who at 18 months old tapped his foot in perfect time to the music at church, the child who would beg me to tell him stories before bed every night, who could draw full scenes of dinosaurs at 3 years old, who climbed trees and sword fought and Nerf battled, and harassed his sister, and loved his Nana… this boy has fallen in love with a lovely girl, who complements his personality, and loves him back with her whole heart… and he is leaving me… and I’m not sure that I can survive this goodbye.

See.. I need to go back.  I need to go back and appreciate that he wants me to tell the stories.  I was so tired, I would rush through them so I could go to bed.  When he begged to go outside and play catch or Frisbee with me, now I would go every time, because I know what I didn’t know then, that their would be a last time that he would ask.  A day would come when he didn’t need me, when I wasn’t the center of his world, and that day is now.

When my kids were little, I looked forward to them growing up.  Cary and I would talk about how we had our children early, and we would still be young when they went off to school and start their own lives.  We were what are kids are now, young and stupid.  We didn’t know what we didn’t know: That the toddler years, and elementary school years were the work you put in so that you had interesting people to talk to when they turned 16, so you have people to laugh with and who challenge your way of thinking.  We didn’t know that teenagers are fun.  And I had NO IDEA that it hurt this bad to let go.

I feel like I owe my parents an apology for growing up!!  I did this to them too!! I didn’t know when I was excited to go off to college, and get married, that they were mourning the loss of something so great, something they had spent decades loving, and that they now had to figure out how to let go.  I didn’t see their pain, the way they wanted to hold on because their heart was being ripped away.

Our world is going to change a lot in the next two months.  Rachel, our exchange student is leaving for home.  Emma gets her driver’s license, and drive time conversations will end.  Ty gets married and a few weeks later, moves to Louisville.  Our household will shrink by two people. 

How kind is God that he would play a tune in my head to prepare me to walk this road.  Time will ease your pain.  It’s okay to hurt, and it’s okay to cry.  Come let me hold you, and I will try.  How can I help you to say goodbye…

Lord,  these people are yours.  Ty is yours, Emma is yours, Rachel is yours, Deacon is yours.  Thank you for the time we have had, and the time we will continue to have.  My time of influence is declining, but that is because it is time for you to be the one that leads and guides them.  This is right, and the way of things, but it hurts so much  Please Papa, draw them to you.  May my faith be only a starting off point in their lives.   Your word says we each has a portion of faith that has been given to us.  Please triple my portion for each of them, that they will know you and believe in you and your goodness in ways I have yet to experience.  Help them to love you will all their heart, their soul, their mind, and their strength.  Thank you Lord, that you help me as we transition from  this phase of life to the next.  I love you. Amen

(I have to say, it’s kind of weird.  I have prayed for Ty’s wife since he was a baby, but she never had a face until now.  Lord, won’t you let Darcy see how good you are and how much you love her.  Let her see how lovely she is to you.  Give her faith of a Giant in your Kingdom.  She is fierce.  Make her a warrior for you, In Jesus Name.)