Goodbye's

Goodbye's are always difficult, at least for me.  Since my Dad was in the Air Force, my life as a child was always sprinkled with goodbyes.  When we would visit my Grandmother, I always wondered why my Mom would cry when she said goodbye.  I knew she would miss her Mom, the daily life kinds of stuff, but I didn't understand the weight of a goodbye ... until now.  Now I know that when my Mom hugged my Grandmother, she wasn't shedding tears for the moment.  The tears that trickled down her face where full of emotion.  These tears contained message like ...

... when will be the next time we see each other?
... you've changed and I wasn't here to notice.
... this hurts and I can't do anything to change it.
... I don't want to forget how you smell.
... I loved eating your home made friend chicken.
... I've changed and you don't understand me.
... is this our last goodbye.

I know, because I've been in her shoes.

Today comes another goodbye.  Today, my family will gather in Texas to say goodbye to my cousin, Casey, who died this week.  The details aren't important; the goodbye is.

I remember Casey as my punky kid cousin who imitated Steve Irkle and took seriously the call to chop anything and anyone in an effort to call himself a Karate expert.  He had a round face and a smile that made his eyes invisible when he flashed those pearly whites.  He gave good foot rubs, until he became a teenager and that became too "uncool" for him.  He wanted to be a chef.

One memory that sticks out is a car ride from Arkansas City, Kansas back to our home in Oklahoma City.  My Grandmother had passed away.  Chris and I were newly married.  Casey rode home with us (we were probably the "cool" older cousins then) and we listened to an oldies rock -n- roll station and sang every song we knew at the top of our lungs.  A song called, "Momma said there'd be Days like this" came on and Casey took over the role of lead singer.  We laughed and laughed and laughed until we thought we would pee our pants.

I don't know how I feel about this goodbye.  This is an unexpected one - it's taken me by surprise. I know this goodbye brings a lot of pain for my Aunt and Uncle, two people that mean a great deal to me ... two people that have helped shape my view of God, life, and family.  Alongside this journey walk my two cousins, Cory and Cameron.  These guys have been like brothers.  They've seen me during my "ugly" years and still love me.  They still think they can tease me like a 7th grader ... and I like that.  Cameron conducted the ceremony for Casey's wedding.  Shannon, Casey's wife has 3 kiddo's to raise alone.  I can only imagine the pain she's carrying around right now ... real or imagined.  I know they are all hurting and it feels like there is nothing I can do about it.

These are the moments when I think God is surprised ... or kept something from me ... or dare I say is off in the distance?  I think these things ... if we are honest, who doesn't?  However, I know (even if it doesn't "feel" like it) these things aren't true.  God is not surprised.  God knew what this day would bring.  God is near.  It doesn't have to "feel" good, but I can believe it.

Today, in my own way, I say goodbye to Casey.  My tears hold messages, too.  My tears carry questions and bear pain and hold memories and bring laughter and desire closeness to my family.  It's funny how physical death can make you feel alive ... and brings every experience into HD.

To my family, Aunt Kelly, Uncle David, Cory and Cameron ... and Shannon ... you are loved.  In this pain I pray you see God, see yourself, and see Casey in the light of truth.