A few days ago, Kaiden and I delivered Akane to the airport. She is a lovely 19-year-old young Japanese girl who bravely ventured to Canada for three months to live with a family she didn’t know.
The first time we met each other is when we picked her up to bring home with us.
In a short time, she quickly become a part of our family and a close friend with my 10-year-old son.
There were tears, hugs, and more tears last night, and more as we said goodbye at the airport. All the way back home, Kaiden was silent and contemplative.
I left him to his thoughts and emotions. Sometimes trying to cheer someone up just cheapens and short circuits necessary feelings.
In our silence, and my own realization of being released of responsibility to care for Akane, so soon on the heels of being released from caring for my mother, my thoughts and feelings came bubbling up, like a carbonated soft drink suddenly released of pressure.
I felt sad for my mom and for her difficult ending. I felt guilt as I wondered if there was more I could have done for her. I felt pride that I’d done my very best to afford her the dignity of personal choice, which must always include the right to make wrong choices.
I felt relieved she is out of pain and at peace. Our journey together is over, and I could relax and unshoulder the responsibility of care. I felt intense relief that I never again have to visit that hospital, make amenable small talk with the staff while bracing myself for another difficult visit with a woman I barely recognized towards her end.
Say “hello” to care.
After a wild mix of emotion washed over me, I was left with a sense of calm appreciation. I’m thankful I was given the gift of being able to care for and give something of myself back to her. I’m thankful I could be there to say goodbye at the very end.
And now? I’m spending some time to recall the best memories of my mom, and to be thankful for all she gave of herself for her kids and friends in her lifetime.
Yah, saying goodbye really sucks. But wouldn’t it be so much worse to never to have said “hello” in the first place?
When you accept responsibility for others, life affords us a kind of contemplative, rich clarity I’ve found only through journey of caring for others.
Say “hello” to adventure.
After all, we all won a trillion to one lottery just by being here! Life has so much for us to experience: love, joy, wonder, and connection. Adventure can be scary, but I gain confidence and learn so much every time I handle unfamiliar terrain.
Say “hello” to new friends.
After three short months, Akane is so much a member of our family, now absent, but never far from our hearts. As much as she gained from her experiences in Canada, I think we and our kids gained so much more.
I like to say, ‘there are friends who come for reason, a season, or a lifetime’.
There are people who come into our lives for a reason, and once that reason is fulfilled, they are on their merry way.
Others who we call friend for a season, but life or personal growth take each in a different direction and the friendship ends.
Then there are those of a lifetime. These are the kind of friends we can turn to when our need is great, and they will be there for us.
I find as I grow older I have far fewer “lifetime” friends. Lots of reasons why. Some fell out after a bitter disagreement, some moved away. Some were mutual decisions not to invest time and energy.
Before she passed, I watched my mom lose interest in her friends, due largely to the progression of her disease. In the end, she didn’t want to see any of them.
Some persisted despite being rebuffed. Impressed, I took time to thank her friends for their diligence and care in cards, phone calls and visits. They inspired me to put in the effort to be a better friend myself.
As Kaiden and I arrived home from the airport, I remembered that no matter how difficult saying goodbye is, I want so many more “hellos”.
Article by Mathieu Powell
Coastline Marketing Inc
250-516-6287
Leave a Reply