"All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost."

Sunday, February 21, 2010

"GOODBYE DON'T MEAN I'M GONE"

There was a kiddie train outside the gates of the San Diego Zoo that my son was obsessed with. We were official zoo members back then and took advantage of unlimited visiting priviledges. AJ would wear his YOU BELONG IN THE ZOO t-shirt and a CUBS baseball hat; I wore size-six mom jeans and big blue sunglasses. I can still see my little boy squatting in front of the fenced-in baby animals while pointing at the sunbleached goats and fawns. We would watch gorillas pick bugs off each other, spot Koalas amongst bamboo trees, and feed elephants raw peanuts. But, most of all, at the end of the day, we loved to watch the choo-choo wind its way around the track and say bye-bye as it disappeared through the tunnel.

We always had fun at the zoo. The weather was 99.9% perfect, mommy packed a picnic lunch, and we knew we had it pretty good in our San Diego paradise. AJ never liked leaving, but the lure of waving goodbye to the little train as it followed its track around and around, over and over again each week, made it easier to head toward the parking lot.

Over the weekend, I rode a train from Dallas to Chicago called the Texas Eagle. My daughter decided to move to Arizona, broke up with her boyfriend on Valentine's Day, packed up her car with garbage bags of clothing and nine thousand pairs of shoes, and I accompanied her on the first leg of her trip. She wore a TALK NERDY TO ME t-shirt and comfortable grey sweatpants; I wore size-fourteen mom jeans and big brown sunglasses. I can still see my little girl riding shotgun covered in Google maps and pages of directions on how to program the Garmin. She screamed as I recklessly changed lanes, narrowly avoiding being side-swiped by several cars exceeding the speed limit on I-355 out of Illinois.

We drove for 18 hours with big lumps in our throats. Planning and rehashing Ali's future, crying over the broken-hearted boy she thought she would marry and was leaving behind, laughing at silly things we observered on the highway that certainly no one else would find funny - a horse's tail caught in the back of a trailer, a rickety RV with eyelet curtains. We sobbed realizing we would soon be separated by a gut-wrenching goodbye, a kiss and a hug that must tide us over for at least three months, and 1700 miles of train track.

It hurts to say goodbye to someone you love. It's not fun like waving at a tiny train on a circular track. Tears burn your eyes and a knife wounds your heart. You comfort yourself with old adages - every ending is a new beginning - when God shuts a door, he opens a window - if you love something, let it go. But letting go isn't easy, so you massage your heart with the sweet- scented oil of see-you-soon.

I've said goodbye to parts of my dad at least seventeen times. Goodbye ability to read a map at the zoo. Adios capacity to drive. Aloha naming five fruits, drawing a clock, and knowing what year it is. Hasta la vista finding your way home from a walk. Shalom reading your watch, reading books, and reading my mind. Chow dressing yourself, feeding yourself, and thinking for yourself. Sayonara someone I can talk to. Farewell remembering your name is Jack, who your sons are, and how many grandchildren you have. Bye-bye choo-choo your memory of me.

This weekend, riding the Texas Eagle, I finally started to realize how lucky I truly am. I'm prone to taking comfort in old adages and just plain grateful I have so many beautiful things in my life that make saying goodbye difficult. I love my dad with his plaqued-out brain. I'm thankful my daughter is brave enough to go looking for something she wants, even though it means moving away from home, and the memories of myself as a new mother, waving at trains with a son like AJ, are my happiest. There will still be days when life is 99.9% perfect. I know I have it pretty good. Goodbye don't mean I'm gone.

3 comments:

  1. I have read your posts...very moving. I hope you can find your happiness gene too.

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  2. Bye-bye choo choo....I get it now! You always carry bits of your life in your pocket. Through your blog I am learning the history of those bits of you.

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  3. <3 <3 <3 you give me such strength. words can't describe how much i miss you. <3 <3 <3

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