On Saying 'Goodbye'

No, no, she didn't die ... so calm down.

As described in Tuesday's post (Maybe We'll Glow in the Dark), Bettie had a gall bladder drain (a small plastic tube) removed after nearly six weeks being in place in her abdomen.

I expected her to immediately feel much better. Instead, by the time we got home from two more appointments that day, she was looking pretty grim. It was literally all she could do to make it up the steps to our bedroom where she collapsed on the bed, barely able to move for the rest of the day. I found it very difficult to determine if the issue was pain or exhaustion. It was probably a fair amount of both.

The doctors had said we would have to watch her closely for the next day or two, and I could see why. For me, it was an evening of hovering. While attending to her that closely, I realized that I could be watching the lights slowly going out. I didn't seriously believe she was dying, but on the other hand watching people die is not something I'm very familiar with.

Just to be sure, I took her vital signs and called for Dr. Stephan, who interrupted his evening to return my call. From what I told him, he reassured me that she should just rest ... "but keep watching." You can bet that I did.

It was during that time, sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning in close, that I began to tell her what a good wife she has been and how well she had treated me these past 50 years. I told her that I wanted her to keep doing that for a long time ... but if she needed to go now, that I -- while it was not an easy thing for me to get out -- I guess I gave her permission to move on ... to eternity.

I can't remember every detail of the conversation, (and it was that: a conversation. She clearly understood and gave me feedback) but I probably should keep that privately between us anyway.

The reason I mention this is because I look back on those moments as very special. Moments that I'll be glad I spent, if she does precede me, no matter how far in the future that may be.

So I'm thinking: "I wonder if this is something every couple should do?" Since we can't know how much time the beloved people in our lives will be, well, in our lives, wouldn't it be a good idea to tell them occasionally, just what they mean to us? I mean the kind of stuff you'd say if you really were saying goodbye for keeps.

Yes, it could be kind of maudlin, but it doesn't necessarily have to be. For me -- and I'm pretty sure for Bettie -- it was a positive time. I'll grant you it might be difficult, but not as difficult as having the same "conversation", in a cold lonely cemetery, on some dreary sad day in the unknown future, hunched over a fresh tombstone.

Note - For the very courageous among the readership of this blog:
Should you find some merit is this suggestion and actually follow through, we would love to have you post a comment on your experience. We know your words will help others. Not on the personal details of what was said, but on your experience with it and how you felt about it. Thanks!

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