Last Hugs and Saying Goodbye
Mountain goats
Lake Pend Oreille, Idaho
Carey -
As we enter the last weeks of the journey, this looms ahead. It is daunting. COVID has stolen so much human contact over the past year, and with it the opportunity to share hugs with those you love. Travel became problematic for visitors (although some of you were very persistent and always appreciated). But now each hug comes with the realization that it could well be the “last one” or that the one a year ago was the “last one.” Virtual hugs are better than no hugs, but one loses the body language expressed in a real hug. Or the nuance of the whispered last comment. At this point it seems very daunting to give that last hug to each of the girls, my brother, and our extended family. Then again, it is a gift to be able to do so. I’ll try to meet the challenge of “nothing unsaid, nothing undone” but know that I will fail due to disease progression or lacking the emotional reservoir to be able to get all of this in. But then again, perhaps that’s a sign of a gifted life?
Nicole-
Throughout my career in palliative care I have searched for the right words to say to patients as they leave my office, knowing I’ll never see them again. One day I found my mantra: look them deeply in the eye, take their hand and say “Blessings on your journey”. Usually followed by tears in my eyes as I turn away. Because there really isn’t ever a good time for a last hug or saying good-bye, it’s also all right not to do it. To always hope there will be time for another hug or another word together. But to be in peace when there isn’t time, because a gifted life lived well has made time for so many hugs and good byes along the way.
So I probably won’t say good-bye to Carey, but rather “Blessings on your journey.” I will most likely add “Thank you for teaching me so much and if you can, keep teaching me from wherever you are going. I’ll be listening and watching for you." I’ll take care of Robin and the girls in their grief and they will take care of me in mine. Because those who touch our lives, never really leave.
Sandstone formation, Southeast Utah