Goodbye

“Don’t cry because it’s over.
Smile because it happened.”
Dr. Seuss

Each summer we pack ourselves, five kids, and piles of “too much junk” into the SUV to make our annual pilgrimage to the place of my childhood. Over the Blues, through the valley, past endless fields of sagebrush, until we reach the mountains of the Wasatch Front.

As we drive I am thinking, “Who gave the five-year-old a harmonica? How many granola bars have been stuffed under the back seat? Will the neighbor boy remember to water my flowers? Should I give the wild two-year-old some more Benadryl? Will my teenager go deaf after listening to twelve hours of ipod?...”

In my heart I know that although this trip will be as wonderful as it is each year, it will also be a last goodbye to a grandfather dearly loved. After 92 years and a lifetime of experiences, he is slowly fading. His frail body has become a shadow of the man he once was, and although I will not mourn his passing (as his was a life well-lived), I will surely miss him.
And so we drive, and I think about what the next few days will hold -- trips to the museum and amusement park, BBQ with family and friends, conversations late into the night, cousins for my kids, afternoon drives past our first apartment and the place where our oldest was born, hikes up the mountain, a 5K race, and time with those most loved.

And I also think about what I will say to him. How do you thank someone for a lifetime of sacrifice and service? How do you express a love far beyond words? What questions do you ask when there may not be time for others? How do you say goodbye when you know that this will be your last?

And as we drive, I am not sad that he soon will be leaving – I find great comfort in a lifetime of memories and the belief that life is eternal. I am, however, reminded once again that life is fragile and each moment must be savored.