Goodbyes of all kinds

It was 3:15 in the morning. I stood outside my son’s bedroom door and knocked.

“Come in,” he said.

I pushed the door open. Landon was dressed in his suit and stood next to his three packed bags.

“Mom, does my tag look right?”

I looked over at the tag he wore, and my heart—full of love, anxiety, and hope—nearly exploded. A little over an hour later, I hugged my son and told him goodbye for two years. It was a very hard goodbye.

For the past three days, I have been thinking a lot about goodbyes. We have so many goodbyes in a lifetime. Some are fairly insignificant, some goodbyes are silly and temporary, some are really challenging, and some are devastatingly permanent. Sometimes our goodbyes don’t involve anyone else…we say goodbye to a bad habit, or a good one (!), bye to an old diet, or even goodbye to a destructive way of thinking.

No matter the kind of goodbye, it always feels hard.

Why is that?

Well, I think it is because there is such uncertainty around goodbyes. And generally, we don’t love feeling uncertain. We much prefer the familiar over the unknown, even when the unknown may turn out to be so much better. But that knowledge comes later, much later, after having spent a lot of time in uncertainty.

In 1999, my parents left for three years to live as missionaries in South Africa. Brian and I had only been married for a year, and my heart was broken. How could I survive without them? All the things I still needed to know and learn, and they were going to live a world away. We wanted to start a family, and I knew my parents wouldn’t be there when our first child was born. How could I become a good mother without my mom? The uncertainty of my new life made saying goodbye a painful experience.

When we left California in 2009, it was so very hard to say goodbye. We were leaving friends, family, familiar stores and streets, our parks, neighbors, and all our fun. It felt like we were saying goodbye to our memories, too. I didn’t know if I’d ever see the people I loved again. Would my life be disappointing from now on? The unknowns were numerous and all-encompassing.

As Annie and I sat in Children’s Hospital in Dallas, I was forced to say goodbye to the life I had known. Despite wanting to wake up from the nightmare I felt I was in, I could not. I had to turn and squarely face the uncertainty of Annie’s future with type 1 diabetes. There was so much I didn’t know and those unknowns were overwhelming at times.

After 46 years of all kinds of goodbyes, I have learned to embrace uncertainty. I still don’t love it, but I know the evolution that comes when we leave the familiar and step into the unknown. And I love that.

So, I don’t dread the goodbyes like I used to. I see them now for what they are—a doorway that leads to learning, change, and growth.