Saying Goodbye

Posted by Emily M. | June 16, 2008 | 3 Comments

“Too Late to Say Goodbye,” Dalene Rowley’s poignant essay about her mourning her father, has got me thinking about greetings and farewells. Dalene talks about not realizing how close her father was to dying until it was too late to say goodbye. He left without that official farewell from her, without that closure, and the lesson of always saying goodbye has stayed with Dalene ever since. I think every time she remembers to say goodbye, she’s honoring her father’s memory. But go read the essay; it’s wonderful.

In Ecuador as a missionary I had to learn new manners for greetings and farewells. Saludar y despedir, it’s called. Entering and exiting a meeting, or a home, etiquette demanded that I personally greet or bid farewell to everyone in the room. If I could not find a person who was present, or they were busy talking, I had to ask someone to do it for me. In our mission, American missionaries spoke a mixed-up slangy Spanish to each other, as in, “I have to despedir myself of the hermanas, and then we can go.” Translated literally, it’s a jumbled mess. But we knew what we meant: to be courteous, we needed to greet and bid farewell to as many people as we could.

It’s a sweet custom, very personal and loving, very latin. Also hard to get used to, at first: entering a family home evening at a member’s home, my companion and I would greet each person. Exiting we’d do the same. And, not being from that culture, I know I missed the nuances of saludaring and despediring myself: would it have been okay to just wave a goodbye to that sister who had her hands full cooking? Could I have gotten away with calling “hello” or making eye contact and a smile? In my unfamiliarity, I erred on the side of annoyingly solicitous greetings and farewells. Heaven forbid that any Ecuadorean should be miffed at my American lack of manners. Better for them to smile at my endearing bumbling attempts to be polite than that they should interpret any hesitation as rudeness.

So by the end of my mission, it felt more natural to say hello to everyone I met, goodbye to everyone I left, in a personal way. I don’t do it so much anymore–let’s face it, a wave to most of the people in the room is more efficient, and more American–but I have been thinking today about the very personal nature of greetings and farewells. My grandma is looking forward to saying goodbye to all of us on earth, and saying hello again to her beloved husband, my grandfather. She’s anxious to leave earth, spirit yearning to be spirit again, to greet the ones she loves. In heaven all the greetings will be pure latino: my grandma will not personally say hello to each ancestor out of duty, or awkward politeness, or attempts to fit into the local culture. Instead she will rejoice to see them again, and she will greet them individually with love and joy, fresh from the individual farewells of her children and grandchildren.

And now I realize that I also must post Heather Bergevin’s poem “Journey,” from the same issue. My grandfather watches for my grandma, Dalene’s father will watch one day for her.

Journey

by Heather Harris Bergevin

We are watchmen for your
safe passage;
pacing at the harbor,
readying for unloading,
the bustle, the clatter
exclamation, reunion.
but for now, we, watchmen
wait impatient
knitting together
our nets, our brows, our families,
passersby.
coming or going?
they ask, and we
smile. staying,
continuing, watching,
ever hoping, ever vigilant,
until, with wind’s last push
tomorrow, or tomorrow, or tomorrow,
you arrive, joyous, home.
Together we will be watchmen
pacing the shoreline
for that other Coming,
and prepare our nets for harvest

Category: Daily Special

Comments

3 Responses to “Saying Goodbye”

Dalene
June 16th, 2008 @ 5:05 pm

Thank you, Emily, for the reminder. A friend of mine just composed a beautiful choral piece about greeting our Father again. We sang it yesterday in Sacrament Meeting, but I couldn’t finish it. The double meaning it holds for me was a bit too much on Father’s Day. But it is indeed comforting to know someone dear to me will be watching for me one day.
Wendy
June 17th, 2008 @ 10:34 pm

I have been waiting and waiting for the time to read this and Dalene’s essay (dh gets a big thanks for giving me a break).

So now I’m all weepy–thanks a lot.

Emily and Dalene, I loved both of your essays, and Heather, your poem, too. My sister and I were just talking about our Grammie, who died a little over a year ago. Her birthday is coming up, and by chance, our big family vacation starts on that day. We decided we have to have a birthday party in her honor. She was the last of her generation to go, so we have the most vivid and cherished memories of her. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her either, mostly because I didn’t pick up the phone in time. Missing that chance carries its own aspect of grief, I think.

My sister and I occasionally wear Grammie’s (or our great aunts’) funky jewelry in their honor. I use Great Aunt Annabelle’s days-of-the-week embroidered dish towels with the owls. And when the strawberries are good the first weekend of April, I have had strawberry shortcake in honor of my Grandpa’s birthday. I love doing little things like that in remembrance of my grandparents. Four foot long spaghetti is a wonderful tradition!

Thank you, ladies, for your lovely words.
Emily M.
June 18th, 2008 @ 11:28 pm

Thanks, Dalene and Wendy. It is a tough topic, I think, and tender for many people. I love the phrase “aspect of grief,” Wendy.