Strength In The Letting Go

I've never liked the word "goodbye," because it always seemed too finalized, too curt and short.  Some goodbyes have no emotion and can easily roll off the tongue, because it isn't final, and one knows they will see the other soon, however . . . other farewells are heart-wrenching, and bring waves of mourning.  I cannot even come close to imagining the pain that a parent must bear at having to say goodbye to a young son or daughter who is leaving to serve in the military overseas.  Or losing a loved one in a tragic accident.  I could list many ways that goodbye can cause so much pain, and I don't want to categorize or downplay any of it, as it is all so real and registers differently within each person at the moment it is happening. I think the worst pain of all is losing someone that you've invested years of your life with, and having to say goodbye to them while they are still living, knowing your lives will not be able to walk together again. How do you bridge a great divide like that?

Jeannine and I at our High School Graduation Party, in Texas 

People think it is holding on that makes you stronger, but sometimes the strength is in being able to let go. I remember when I was 17 years old, we were all sitting around the supper table when Dad shared the news that we would be moving to Dallas.  I was a junior in High School, a cheerleader, and just finished performing as one of the leads in our school play -- finally felt completely connected to the community, and had quality friendships in my life -- then my whole world started spinning.  I quietly stepped away from the dinner table and went downstairs to the den, sat on the floor, stunned and speechless, looking up at the shelves of family pictures above the entertainment center.  They were scenes from my whole life neatly arrayed.  Dance recital, family reunions, ribbons, awards, trophies, Grandma and Grandpa, Aunt Judy and her family,  our church family, fall foliage, winter fun, this was my home, this was my hometown, these were my people . . . and I had to leave it all! I had to leave everything I knew, that was familiar to me.  The mourning process began.

Dad Barry holding Kaitlin as a baby

Little did I know that it would be the first of many goodbyes.  I spent 16 years of my life in Dallas, and made incredible friendships, lived in beautiful places and made more memories.  Graduated from Bible college, served as a short term missionary to Great Britian and Ireland, married my incredible husband, Hugh, and we had our daughter Kaitlin (who is now 14 yrs) there. Then our relocation to Connecticut happened.  Here we were being torn away AGAIN, from the people we loved, and this time I was having to say goodbye to my immediate family.  Now it was time to walk alone . . . just me, my hubby and daughter. 

Jesus said, “Truly I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or farms, for My sake and for the gospel’s sake, but that he will receive a hundred times as much now in the present age, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and farms, along with persecutions; and in the age to come, eternal life. 

“But many who are first will be last, and the last, first.”

Mark 10:29-31

We lived in Connecticut for two years, and our church was two hours away, so we could only go once a month.  Believe it or not . . . that was when we bonded and grew closer as a family.  We would spend time everyday (instead of 1-2 times a week) reading the Bible together, praying and talking about the things of God.  Even though we had absolutely NO family around us at all, God began giving us great friendships to help fill our souls, and a peace that passed all understanding.  Of course we still ached for the family hugs and fellowship, but there was a sense of peace, knowing we were in the place we were supposed to be for the time we were supposed to be there. 

When I go back to NY, to visit my family there, I LOVE going to my Aunt Judy's house, because it is the same charming Cape-style home she was married in, gave birth to her two beautiful children, and even cared for her husband before he passed away.  It has been her home for over 40 years.  Every time I enter its doors all the memories come flooding back and sometimes I just go into her front living room, sit on the couch and stare out the big picture glass window, reliving each scenario of when we were little, gathered around the Christmas tree, opening presents.  The giggles, laughter and smiles so vibrant,  as Dad, Aunt Judy and Grandma's laughs all echoed together in a vibratic cacaphony; tenor, alto and sopranic vibratos filling the air with joy.  It was the sound of family and comfort. I am so thankful we atleast have that place to enjoy, as a sense of "home" when we travel back to NY. 

Our house in Connecticut,
which backed up to the Meshomasic Forest

After 9/11 my husband's job was layed-off and we were forced to relocate once again (sigh).  This time it was to Minnesota, a state I had NEVER visited before and didn't even have it on my list of places to visit in my lifetime (sorry, no offense to my MN friends, just keepin it real here).  Connecticut I could handle, because it wasn't far from NY, and atleast Texas had my immediate family there, but MINNESOTA???  I didn't know a soul there and it was a 2 day drive either way to NY or Texas.  I was thinking . . . okay God, you really have a sense of humor.  What are you trying to tell us?  I don't want to be like the Israelites who had to travel 40 years in the desert, when they only had an 11 day journey to Canan.  Are we being disobedient and being disciplined or is there a bigger plan that we don't know about??  So we said goodbye to our newly established Connecticut friendships, and made our way to the land of many lakes.  We drove two days in a blizzard with a cat throwing up in the back seat and a 6 year old daughter just going with the flow (love how flexible she is!).  I was amazed at how, despite the hard circumstances, we were filled with peace and everything lined up beautifully at the closing of our home in CT and the new buying of our home in MN.  We knew God's hand was in everything.

Of course this journey is still playing out, and we don't have a final conclusion as to why we have been here in Minnesota for the last 7 years, but we know we are here for a reason.  We've definitely had our share of goodbyes, more than we like, but are so thankful for each life that we've had the honor of meeting and connecting with.  Some lives/places we have been able to connect with for years and some for only days, but it is the ones who remain for a lifetime (even across the miles) that mean the most. Sometimes you have to let go to see if there was anything worth holding on to. When we look back now, we know who our real friends have always been, and they are the ones we cherish.  Saying goodbye to the ones we've loved, but may not have received the same level of love back is the hardest.  It always breaks my heart when I invest so much of my life and love into another life and they can so easily disconnect.  So the strength doesn't come just with the letting go . . . but also being able to let go of bitterness and  forgive. For me it is never goodbye, but rather . . . until we meet again.

“May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.”

~ Irish Blessing