Lessons in Goodbye

Almost a year ago, I said goodbye to a friend.

 I last spoke with him on the phone about the smallest and silliest things.  If I had known it was the last time I would talk to him, I can't think of anything better we could have talked about.  Our conversation was perfect because it took a long time for us to get to the point where we were able to have any conversation at all. The friend I refer to was my father.  We didn't have the typical father-daughter relationship.  He left when I was a little girl and it wasn't until I was 15 years old that restoration was brought to our relationship and we began to talk again. Even after that, it was hard for me to let those walls that had been there for so long fall down. After just a few years of getting to know each other, my father left again, but this time he went to Heaven.  The most difficult thing for me in losing him has been the fact that I simply just wanted more time.  I wanted more time to get to know him better.  I wanted more time to laugh until we both were crying.  I wanted more time for him to know me better.

Over the past year since my father passed away, I have taken each day as it has come.  Some days I have been open to think of him and accept the pain of him not being here anymore.  Most days, though, I have found more comfort in pushing my pain aside and not dwelling on him being gone.  I have found that God works in our hearts whether we are or are not open to the healing love he has to offer.  I have learned lessons in saying goodbye and God has strengthened my heart in the midst of it. 

I have learned that time is precious.  Time, in any dose, whether it be days, weeks, months, years are precious.  I am thankful for the time I did have with my father.  I am glad that I could call him my friend by the time his life came to an end.

I have learned that love is limitless.  Love doesn't always look the way that we want it to. Sometimes, it is a lot harder than we expected.  My father loved me.  I loved him.  We did not have a relationship that most little girls dream of.  We did not share most Birthdays.  We did not share most Christmases.  We did not share bedtime stories or secrets.  We did share love, though.  At times our conversations were still awkward and our hugs weren't always comfortable, but love was at the center of it all. Without God's love, I would not have worked through my bitterness and discovered what love truly is. Sometimes love is something that isn't understood or even comfortable.  Sometimes love is just that- love.

I have learned that regret is only a haunting echo that has no place in healing.  I have had my share of regret.  Wishing I would have talked to my father more often on the phone, hugged him tighter, told him I loved him more sincerely.  The truth is, though, that I did what I knew how.  He did what he knew best.  Me holding regret in my heart only keeps me from appreciating the gift of lovely time we were given.

I have learned the importance of 'good' in 'goodbye'.  My father left when I was a little girl.  The first goodbye didn't affect me until I was old enough to understand that I didn't have a father like most of my classmates did. Although my father left for his own reasons and I suffered from it, I see in hindsight that although his leaving was not good, good came from it.  My mom remarried a man years later that I instantly loved and began to call "dad".  He picked up the broken pieces and formed a strong family from what had been torn apart.  I grew to understand what restoration is all about.  Had my father stayed in my life, I would not be where I am today.  I also would not have come to understand what forgiveness truly looks like. Although, I often wonder what life had been like had he stayed in my life growing up, I realize that the only direction to move now is forward. 

The second goodbye offered my father no more pain and suffering in his body. His body had grown so weak from being ill.  It offered him peace of mind. 

I have learned the importance of sharing the stories behind our scars. Our stories are meant to be shared. We will come to chapters of our lives where our story will carry someone else into a new chapter in their life.  If me writing this brings any comfort to someone that has gone through a similar situation, then it was well worth my being vulnerable.

It hurts to say goodbye.  It always will.  Searching for the lessons in goodbye, well, it is worth it.