The Goodbye Song

Today, I snuck out for an early lunch and went to music with Annie and Jay. I’ve been to this rec center class forever, ever since Danny was a little guy and, just like Jay, was spending more time sucking on the instruments than drumming. The teachers have changed, even my kids have changed, but one thing remains the same: the goodbye song always makes me cry.  

I don’t know why the song gets me. Maybe it’s working mom angst. Maybe it’s just the purity of the chords, especially when played on a lonely violin. Or maybe it’s the sweetness with which Annie lays her head in my lap as we sing so long, farewell to her. But most likely it is simply because I suck at goodbyes.

Even now, working from home, I tend to linger a bit too long and give too many kisses when I am going out for a simple afternoon of meetings. I still cry if I have to go anywhere overnight (although, don’t get me wrong, a quiet plane ride and a big fat drink cure me pretty fast). I even hate to say goodbye to my parents in Boston when we talk on the phone every day, telling them good night instead, even though sometimes it is still the afternoon.  I guess clinically this must mean I have some kind of abandonment issues. But I think my real issue is that I can’t quite accept how quickly times goes by.   

This week, an old friend lost his nephew at a very young age to cancer. This beautiful boy, named Sam, and his family never gave up hope, never stopped fighting and, best of all, never stopped having fun. Sam and his two brothers managed to be “normal” in spite of it all, and to read the family’s blog (www.teamsam.com) is to see a testament to love and to life.  Hearing about Sam has both devastated and inspired me. It sounds trite but Sam has made me want to be a better person, to worry less and laugh more, to spend less time picking up toys and more time holding hands.

I know I will probably forget all of these lessons by next week, when a work crisis hits or Annie poops in her underwear three times in one day. But for today, and for as long as I can, I am going to try and hold on to the beauty I can find around me.  I am going to try and learn from Sam, learn how there are no real goodbyes, that every day, even the worst day imaginable, can hold some cause to smile. That even the hardest goodbye can be a victory celebration.  

Sam loved bright colors. Wear some in his honor this week. Think of him a bit. And be thankful, like I will be, of what we can learn from the beauty and honor with which he and his family lived. And said goodbye.

Comments

[Emma McCulloch]

wow. Thanks for making me cry just after 9 a.m.!

[Jen Dracos-Tice]

thanks for this sweet post and tribute to your friend's nephew...as I tell my students, "good-bye ain't gone" (or something close to that), a quote from James Baldwin...and as nice as that sounds (Karen used to leave this quote on my bedside table when she had an early shift), I, too, still suck at good-byes. I dread every weekend Will goes to Bill; I mourn when Will is gone with his dad for week-long vacation trips. It's like my heart walked out the door. But at least I can rejoice at his returns; that's pretty major.