Saying Goodbye

"He is certainly of an age to die." The sadness of the old; their banishment...I too made use of this cliche' and that when I was referring to my mother...If I met a woman of fifty overcome with sadness because she had just lost her mother, I thought her neurotic; we are all mortal; at eighty you are old enough to be one of the dead... But it is not true...the knowledge that because of her age my mother's life must soon come to an end did not lessen the horrible surprise. -philosopher Simone de Beauvoir, A Very Easy Death.


A gentle breeze was blowing over the newly planted grass. The sound of digging and backhoes reverberated nearby. From some distance away came the lilting sound of a bugle playing taps , so familiar now....I stood there, looking down at the headstone for the first time: "Douglas P. Gunn, Lt, USN...Lucile E. Gunn....We Love You Mom and Dad"

Last week I visited my parent's grave for the first time since my mom's burial, six months ago this coming Friday. The are buried together, in one site, in the Riverside National Cemetary, one of several cemetaries set aside for military veterans and their spouses. The tears came as I stared at it, unbelieving...my mom and dad are really, finally gone.

I thought of the quote above that I had read once in a book about dealing with aging parents. I continue to grieve, to miss them, even though they are in surroundings of joy that I cannot begin to know. I cannot talk to them,cannot hug them, cannot share the joys of watching my children grow up. It is unbelievably painful.

Last Wednesday was my mother's birthday. She would have been 77. That night, I relived saying goodbye to her for the final time. I had gone out to be with her when I got a call that she might not last another 48 hours. But she rallied, perhaps because I was there. After a week, the doctor said she might live another 2 weeks. My own family was missing me and I knew I had to go. But how do you walk away from your mother? How do you say goodbye to the hands that bandaged your cuts, took your temperature, held your hand during painful shots, fixed your meals, helped you with all those spelling words....prayed for you every day... How do you walk away?

God's word tells us that Jesus knows all of our pain, temptation, etc. He was, after all, fully human as well as divine. And he even knew my pain, this pain...of saying goodbye to his mother. As he hung on the cross, what must it have felt like to see Mary, his mother, sobbing as she watched him die? John records in Chpt 19:27 that Jesus asked him to take care of her. As he endured his own agony, he loved her...and said goodbye.

When I hugged my mom for the last time, crying like a baby, she looked up at me, tired, gray hair disheveled...and smiled. "It's ok honey..."

"I know mom....I'll see you in heaven!"

"Yes" she nodded slowly, still smiling. "I know you will"

"I love you Mom"

"I love you too...."

A week later, she kept her promise and entered heaven.

And one day, sooner or later,I hope to keep mine...and I'll never have to say goodbye.