The Ups and Downs of a Grief Journey

I was in the process of writing a different article, one about how to live a life to be proud of, not one about saying goodbye. But, as with any grief journey, there are good days and bad and I’ll eventually get to that article, just not today. Today wasn’t the worst, but it could have been a better one. I’ve had more than a few not-so-great days this week. Because my blog just turned two, and June will be four years since my husband’s departure, I think it’s all made me a little sad, especially in the mornings when I try to write. 

I thought I had a revelation this morning, but I was mistaken. I’ll get to that in a minute. I presumably thought I had missed out on a milestone for healing. One I thought, if I could put it behind me, it would definitely help me move on mentally and emotionally. So, after googling some ways in which to do this, and in the midst of a severe panic attack, I realized, to my complete surprise, that I had, in fact, already said goodbye. Let me explain.

The Search for Closure

I touched on this whole story once before in another article. This morning’s revelation was that I never actually got to say goodbye. Therefore, doing so now would allow me the closure to move forward. Once I googled the best ways to do this, according to other therapy sites, I came across a forum response. I’m sorry if I don’t credit the person who said this. I can’t even remember what forum it was, but the guy said, “You did say goodbye. Just remember all of the times you said goodbye before. You didn’t know if you would see each other again then.” This hit me like a ton of bricks.

Why Goodbyes Matter

Early in our marriage, we had a mutual friend lose his wife suddenly to a car accident on her way home from work. This incident shook the very foundation of our relationship in that we never wanted to part or leave each other without saying, “I love you.” After she died, we did say our last goodbyes every day and every night for many, many years. Everytime not knowing if it truly would be the last. Then it was.

The last time I saw my husband was the night before. It was just after midnight, and I woke up in my recliner next to his. He was awake and still watching TV. I said I was going to bed, and he replied, “Okay, goodnight.” Before I left the room, I kissed him purposefully, as I did every night before, and we both said, “I love you.” We ended exactly the way we both wanted, with love in our hearts and goodbye on our lips.

So this evening, I have a little more peace and, dare I say, maybe even some closure. Now, I have to figure out what to do with it. My point to this story is: Don’t take for granted that when you say goodbye to someone, it very well could be the last time you get to say it. Be okay with how you leave people who matter. 

Thanks for reading– xxooC