Saying Goodbye

How do you deal with the heartache?

By Annette Beach

‘Tis the season to say goodbye.

It seems like I’ve had my share of separation quite a bit lately, yet saying goodbye never seems to get easier.

This is the third year we’ve moved our son to college and it is still hard! Even though we know the drill and we’re familiar with his routine, my husband and I continue to ache by his absence in our lives and home.

Having our son away at school is bittersweet. While we miss his daily presence and the passings that accompany living under the same roof, we are thrilled about his accomplishments and the path he chose.

So why does it hurt to say those seven letters, G-O-O-D-B-Y-E?

A few months ago, I stood by my Uncle’s hospital bed and was filled with love, admiration and pain. Knowing the odds were not in his favor, we reminisced about the 44 years we shared and confirmed our feelings toward each other, while preparing to part ways.

After leaving his room, I glanced back and witnessed a site I will cherish forever. I saw the emotion of true love in the flesh. Seeing my Aunt and Uncle, two people who have a special place in my heart, together for that moment as they shared their love for possibly the last time, was beautiful!

Is there anything that hurts worse than the pain of saying goodbye to a loved one? Even though some are temporary, they are all incredibly painful – death, a break up, letting go of a child, military leave, an uncertain hospital stay.

How is it that a lump in one’s throat can cause heartache in the chest?

If you have read my previous blogs, you are probably aware of my medical history and numerous operations.

I was diagnosed three years before the birth of my son. Since medical treatments and surgery have been part of my routine throughout his life, I assumed he was used to it.

From his youngest years, I included him and always explained my health in age appropriate terms. He’s always communicated well with health-care professionals, seemed curious about procedures and wanted to watch stitch and cast removal (and in some cases he assisted). When it was his turn to visit the doctor, he was brave and never cried.

While I thought I’d been careful and considerate with my explanations and teaching, I failed to ask him a very important question, “How does my illness make you feel?” 

When Matt was 7 years old, he approached me with a serious look on his face and wanted to talk about my upcoming operation.

I will never forget this moment. With tears in his eyes, he said, “Mom, when Dad and I take you to the hospital and it’s time for us to leave, I get pain in my throat and it hurts down to here (pointing to the center of his chest)”.

As we talked, I learned he had this pain every time we said goodbye and he left me at the hospital. Going to my appointments or visiting the hospital did not bother him. He didn’t like leaving me, knowing I’d be in surgery the next day, while he feared the outcome.

After a heart wrenching discussion, we decided to say our goodbyes at home and he would stay with his grandparents while my husband took me to the hospital. He often went to my pre-op testing days before to become familiar with the hospital and staff, so he would have a better understanding of my operation. If it was a new facility, the staff gave him a tour and often praised him for being such a good helper to his Mom.

This plan worked much better. When it was time for me to leave, he did feel the lump in his throat initially, but it was not as bad and did not last as long because of the comforts of being at home.