A Farewell to Remember

                                    

2:52pm. September 10, 2013. My Other Favorite Coffee Shop in Lincoln.

Goodbyes always conjure up this image in my head - it's that scene from "The Parent Trap" (the remake with Lindsay Lohan, which, just for the record, is way way better than the original with what's-her-face with the bad hair) Annie and her mother stand outside Hallie and her fathers' beautiful California estate and it's pouring rain, they promise to call and write and see each other at Christmas they hug and kiss and Annie and her mother run to the car through the rain; Annie waves goodbye out the back window of the limo as it drives away towards the airport and Hallie waves back as Chessie hugs her and Ray Charles sings "Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye" in the background. 

This is what goes through my head when I think of goodbyes. Every time I leave someone I love for a long time, I hear the little melody, I see the rain even if it's a bright shiny day and then I start to sing the song to myself - "ev'ry time we say goodbye I die a little..."

I've seen people deal with goodbyes in so many ways, some people refuse to make any sort of significance of them at all, some hide from them completely, some make a huge deal out of them (aka me). We all do whatever we have to in order to cope with the pain of leaving. They're a sad unavoidable part of life and if it were up to me I'd just collect up every person that I love and bring them with me as I went along on life's adventures. I'd never say goodbye. 

Unfortunately, that's not how life goes (or fortunately for those of you out there who can be happy I haven't dragged you out to Ecuador, or Croatia ...or Nebraska) I've been lucky enough in my life to have many adventures, but its come at the price of saying many goodbyes and knowing intimately the effects of distance on various relationships. More often than not we soon forget to call and write and we can't always see each other on holidays. Falling out of touch happens frequently, despite the best of intentions. But it's not all so phenomenally depressing... "Ev'ry time we say goodbye I wonder why, a little..."

Understanding the gravity of parting ways allows one to appreciate the presence of another human being more than you ever would if you weren't aware of the alternative. My mom said something to me this past summer that was quite wise and very pertinent to this exact topic. I flipped out because I found out that my younger brother was set to leave for summer camp two weeks before I was to leave for grad school. Essentially I felt like I would lose my last two weeks with my him, but my mother looked at me and she said, "even if you had the extra two weeks, it's not like you can soak up enough of someone so that you don't miss them when they're gone."

And she was right.

I was so worried about not being able to see my brother that I had forgotten to enjoy and appreciate the fact that, at the time, I could enjoy and appreciate seeing my brother! 

"Why the gods above me, who must be in the know, think so little of me, they allow you to go..."

But then there's another kind of goodbye, a far more somber and frightening kind. The long term sort of goodbye. Sadly, I have experienced this too though thankfully less than many. Recently my great grandmother Sophie Rizzo passed away. I could write volumes on Sophie - her generous and gregarious spirit as well as her (to use a phrase borrowed from her eulogy) iconic beauty and poise will be the way I remember her for the rest of my days. But this is about saying goodbye, and this is the hardest kind of goodbye - there's no more writing or calling or seeing each other on holidays. It is the most powerful reminder of my mother's wise words -  "you can't soak up enough of someone so that you don't miss them when they're gone." I will miss Sophie always because I could never in a million years have soaked up enough of her to fill the void that she left. 

This is true, even of short term goodbyes. We will (at least I will) always long for the presence of the people we love regardless of the amount of time we've spent together. I think that's why goodbyes are so hard. I'm pretty sure that's it.

Nevertheless, "when you're near, there's such an air of spring about it, I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it, and there's no love song finer..." the people I've said goodbye to, long term and short term are wonderful and nothing makes me happier than to be with them. Their prescience is never enough and is worth the pain of goodbye every time. 

This post is dedicated to Sophie, I imagine you're in heaven smoking a Benson & Hedges with God, making God laugh with your jokes and your smile.