Tearful Goodbyes

Those of you who have children know what it is like to say goodbye to them. The first day of day care; the first time you leave them with a babysitter; the first time they go away by themselves on vacation; the first time they go out on a date with a stranger to you; the first time they go away to begin their own life.

I had to say goodbye to Kelly when she left for California. We had a summer of goodbyes (parties, dinners, moments) but the time came to leave her on the road to her adulthood last August. I had spent a week with her in Berkeley to help her get set up (we became Pros of the Ikea Assembly Key!). I can honestly tell you that I had tears in my throat and an ache in my stomach every time I thought of the moment when I would be leaving her, all alone, without friends, almost 3,000 miles away. I thought I held it together until Kelly played a song for me that Todd downloaded for her. It is called “My Wish For You”. I stood in her beautiful kitchen overlooking the San Francisco Bay, dishcloth in hand, with tears streaming down my face. She hugged me and I know I held on a moment too long.

How very fast a week can go. Too soon she is walking me to the subway where I head on the train for the airport. We go down the stairs and I’m wondering where I will find the courage to leave my baby alone in California. At the turnstile, she tells me that there are simply no words to thank me and then hands me a letter. She asks me not to open it until I am on the plane. My eyes start to well up and she pleads “Mom, please don’t have me walk away crying”. So, I suck it up, give her a good sized Mommy hug, and leave her so she can start her adult journey.

Despite it burning a hole in my pocket, I did wait until I got on the plane before I opened the letter. The letter echoes a shortened version the “The Paradox of Our Age” but with Kelly’s additions.

She wrote about how I gave her everything that the “paradox” claims we don’t have in “our age”: sound judgment, good sense, family, health, quantity and quality, and deep relationships.

“The Paradox of Our Age” has a line: “It is a time when there is much in the show window, but nothing in the stockroom”, signifying a life of splash with no substance. Kelly’s letter ends with:

You showed me how to have much in the window,
But also taught me how to have much in the room.
“Thank you” is not even enough
I’ll always be Your Baby Girl...

At this time, I am high up over the Nevada desert in a crowded airplane sobbing and shaking with emotion. The little boy beside me whispers to his mom, “Mom, the lady beside me is crying. What should I do?” So, not wanting to upset him, I once again suck it up, put away the letter, and dry my eyes. How did Kelly know that little boy would be seated serendipitously beside me on the plane?

As I made my way home to the empty nest, I knew I was spending the first of many more lifetime minutes missing my baby girl. But even though I was leaving my treasure in the California sunshine, I was taking two precious gifts with me. The knowledge that I had helped Kelly to become the success she is. And, when the missing her becomes too poignant, a beautiful song that reminds me why we had to say goodbye.