Goodbyes
Goodbyes
It’s that scene, from The Wizard of Oz. You know, the one, where Dorothy is saying “goodbye” to The Tin Man, The Cowardly Lion, and finally, The Scarecrow. “I’m going to miss you most of all,” and she tears up and said the words with a catch in her voice.
I have spent much of the past four years on my daughter’s college campus as an assist while she suffered and carried on through the untold pain of her myriad medical horrors. I carried her things, ensured she had food, electrolyte water, extra medications, and most importantly, the backup so that if “things went south,” she was not alone and would not be whisked off to the hospital.
I have also witnessed the kindness and caring of her fellow classmates, professors, and the Safety Officers. I have become so attached to the successful outcomes of a few students, have met so many souls I never would have encountered had I not been on the campus, and I am so grateful to have been there. Not because of the “why,” as I never want my daughter to have suffered as she has. But because of the “where” I was.
I used it as my personal writing/reading retreat. I had to come to that state of mind and of action. I have written one and a half books, edited another, and have learned more about my daughter than I would have known, had I not been there.
She is so strong, resilient, and also ready to move on to the next phase of her life. I am a little late to the “next phase” part. I am…Dorothy. I will miss the daily hustle and bustle of young adults, wise professors, great interactions with the cleaning staff, deep conversations with one of the Safety Officers about life, and My Writer/Reader Retreat.
No, this was not how I pictured her undergraduate years, and hate that she has suffered greatly. On her upcoming Graduation Day, it is all about her, but I cannot pretend that a small, important part of me, will also be moving on.
I never learned how to say, “Goodbye.” As an Army BRAT, it was a “See Ya” and most likely never saw the friends again. Leaving was always easier than being left. So, why is this soon-to-be “leaving” going to be so hard for me?
I love interesting situations, settings, people and have had all three in the past four years. I am not going into my daughter’s story here, as it is hers to tell if she wishes.
I think I shall miss the Safety Officer the most. He saved me one day two years ago when I was in a puddle of tears. He also adopted an abandoned duck left behind by its mother. on the college campus. He told me of his sadness on the day he had to return it to the flock so it could continue its journey.
He is one of life’s genuinely great humans. What an honor to have known him. I hope I don’t break down when I see him on Graduation Day, but I will. Officer Tion, you are a fabulous human. Thank you for the honor of knowing you, for helping my daughter, and for helping me. I shall miss you the most.
Thank you for reading, and thank you for listening. How are “Goodbyes” for you?
In helping your daughter as you did during her college education, you became a part of the community there. As you wrote, it is your daughter’s story to tell herself, but it is clear how deep your love and commitment are for her. Goodbyes for me are difficult. I am not one to cry easily, but when I am saying goodbye to people I love, that’s a different story. It was so difficult for me to say goodbye to both of my children the day my husband and I took them to college. They were both reassuring me that everything was going to be okay. I think I horrified myself. 😉 After my own college graduation, there were so many close friends I was literally sobbing with while saying goodbye, that my mother began to have us pose for more photos to lighten the mood. One of my best friends from college dropped me off at the airport after I had been visiting her and her husband and there we were, all of these years later, crying as we were hugging one another. Just a few examples here, but you get the idea of how goodbyes are for me. Yes, you became a part of your daughter’s college community and it will be hard for you to say goodbye. I always tell my own children, how lucky we are in life, to cry or have difficulty when saying goodbye to others as it means we have loved and been loved. I wish you peace on your daughter’s graduation day! 🎓❤️
This story has touched my heart—I have been lucky enough to have you and Sylvie in my and Meggie’s lives for many years. I know your stories, your joys, your sorrows. And that you have been touched by the pure and sweet joys of beautiful people does my heart good. As for me, and you have witnessed this time and again, I’m the one standing outside (or at the front door) waving my family and good friends “good bye” as they leave. My grandmother would always tell the story of how, when I was no more than age 2, I didn’t want my mom, dad, brother, and sister to leave me to watch a parade in town, so I hurriedly put my coat on backwards to go with them. I cried and cried having been left behind. I’m not at all good with good byes! Instead, I opted for the “See you soon” or some such non committal saying to give me the sense that I’ll see them again.