One Thousand Goodbyes

Tomorrow Ron leaves, and I will say goodbye to him one more time. It has been a work-all-day kind of day, and I am tired. So as I put sticky-felt-pads on our furniture to spare the new wooden floors immediate scratches, I think of him leaving. I wonder how many times I have said goodbye to him during our years together. And I am unexpectedly melancholy.

Before we married I dreamed of living every single minute of every single day together. But of course, we needed to earn a living somehow, so I adjusted this dream to a nine-to-five lifestyle with every evening and weekend together. In my defense, I was still a teenager, and what do teenagers in love know about real life?

I worked to put him through college, wanting him to get a wonderful job. And he did. It just didn’t end up looking like the kind of job I had pictured in my mind. That nine-to-five, be-home-for-dinner-every-night kind of job. About two years into his career, he began to travel. Not so much at first, but with time his trips came to alter the rhythm of our lives irrevocably.

I’ve said goodbye when I was angry and when I was sad and when I was feeling sorry for myself. Each goodbye meant a piece of life we weren’t going to share. And when I was still new at it, I wasn’t at all sure that was the kind of life I wanted.

I’ve said goodbye when I was at term with our daughter and Ron was headed out to enjoy a submarine ride in the big, blue Pacific Ocean and my friend Sue stood in the gap. I think she was secretly hoping she’d get to be my ride to the hospital, but Ron made it home in time, robbing me of the opportunity to say I told you so!

I’ve said goodbye when I was sick and when the kids were sick; when we had a car that broke down about once a month and we’d all have to sit in the smelly waiting area while John-the-repair-guy fixed it for us.

You may have caught on that I haven’t always been a happy camper about this. But it is amazing how God has created us with the ability to adapt to the situations He brings into our lives. And adapt I did. Perhaps with some kicking and screaming. But eventually I settled into the rhythm of goodbyes.

Do I wish our life had been different? I’ve decided this is a question not worth asking. This is the life I, we, have been given. The goodbyes have been hard, there is no doubt about it. But there are two things I know.

First. In a country where the term ‘government worker’ brings to mind the run-ins we’ve all had with someone at the DMV or IRS, my husband has broken the stereotype for his entire career. I once asked him what percentage of his work he actually enjoys.  “About 50%,” he replied. This from a man who has given no less than 100% each and every day. He has honored his Lord by doing the best he can with the gifts God has given him. Every day.

Second. I would be a different person if I had never had to say goodbye to my husband for a period of time longer than a day. I may have been dragged into this with lots of whining and drama, but God knew I needed to be challenged to become the woman he intends me to be. Evidently, a clinging, dependent wife wasn’t what He had in mind.

I am grateful for this life of mine. I have been blessed with a husband who is a good man. I think you’ll forgive me if I’m just a little bit teary-eyed as I think of saying goodbye to him one more time.