Bittersweet Goodbyes

Saying goodbye seems to be a moot point for many people. Look around next time you are in an airport or bus terminal. Travelers and their adoring family or friends sit close to each other, almost in a conspiratorial silence.

Their legs touch and from time to time, their hands offering comfort for the pain of parting which is just moments away. The lonely traveler might appear sad and remote but at least is not buoyed by the sticky tendrils of attachment.

letting go

In my sepia past, the photos in the drawer fade. Images of people in times I knew only by association, live on eternally blissful captured on the photographic paper.

I wonder what did it feel like going through WWII with its succession of partings. There at the railway station, waving goodbye and chasing the train along the platform until out of sight. Did the exertion offset the pain?

The muscles of letting go emotionally, received regular exercise. As with all conditioning, the demands grew.

Death came bringing with it the ultimate challenge.

How did it feel letting go of neighbours? Saying goodbye to friends? Losing a lover? And ultimately losing a child; a part of the self?

Alone, denuded naked before God and the universe, How did it feel? Did you look up to the heavens and scream with the rage of your own inadequacy? Or did you just sink to the ground praying for the strength to stand up again?

Writing your story mum and dad; I had to look from the future to the past, seeing the scars, I gently prized them open in my mind walked back along the path to the source of their creation. I gave them the presence life stole.

I wrote from that view point, from my heart.

How do you feel about goodbyes? Please leave a comment so we can generate some discussion.

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