Jan 22, 2023·edited Jan 22, 2023Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Holly Huitt
My dad passed away from cancer in the 9p.m. hour on December 23, 2001. He embraced so much in his life. He memorized The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe one summer, having written it on scraps of paper. While he mowed the grass, he would stop and read a line, his lips moving as he committed it to memory, and walk along as he added it to what he had already learned. By summer’s end, he had learned it all, proudly giving me a recitation of it in the living room one evening.
The day before he passed, I curled up next to him in his bed, and read The Raven to him, his lips moving occasionally as I gave The Raven back to him.
One of the most meaningful things I’ve ever read is a quote from Ram Dass, “The truth is, we’re all just walking one another home.” My dad walked me into this world, and I helped walk him out.
Thank all of you for what you’ve shared here, and Suleika, I love you girl.
My friend has been in the ICU since November 27. On Friday I visited him again and truly absorbed, for the first time since admission, following a motorcycle accident, that he will survive this accident. I leant in close and said “I don’t come here because I think you’re going to die and each time could be a goodbye, I visit you because I know you will leave this place and remember that we were here.” It’s an investment in both our futures.
When my dad was I’ll in the icu in Miami Beach, Florida, I flew down there to be with him in his last days. It’s the first time I saw my family so panicked and frightened about being with him. Dad was exhausted and the family, to calm their own fears, kept talking to him and asking him questions, even with all the tubes he had in him. I just sat there and watched and held my dad’s hand. There was a time limit in icu and the family was asked to leave, but I didn’t! I put my chair in the doorway, partly in his room and partly in the hallway. The family said to me “ you have to leave!” I said “no, I’m staying!” When the family left the room I sat quietly watching over dad, and then got up, opened his right hand and put a smooth and beautiful moonstone rock in it. It was the first time I realized I could be there for someone I love in the dying process. He’s been gone since 1980, but there’s not a day that goes by that I want to pickup the phone and call him. “I love and miss you so much dad.”
Mamma, though you've been gone for 25 years i never really said Goodbye to you so this morning at 3:30 am in Denver Colorado i want to tell you I love you, even though you never told me you loved me and even though you told me i was a mistake and was not supposed to be born, even though you were married, you actually did the best you could and you did not realize that it hurt me, I want to tell you I always loved you, goodbye and I forgive you
LaTonya this is beautiful. Thank you. I know deep in my heart I need to say a goodbye. It is not to a person, it is to a dream. A dream of my younger self. I don’t think I am alone. Your reference to Serena was perfect. Jacinda Ardern’s news this week hit me hard. As a feminist, I really believed I could have it all. “In her remarks, Ms. Ardern addressed her partner, the television presenter Clarke Gayford, and their 5-year-old daughter Neve. They were, she said, “the ones that have sacrificed the most out of all of us.”” However, I am also inspired by “The Radical Hope of Patti Smith” interview in Bazaar. She keeps showing up in ways that completely inspire me. The 80s feminist icon is unachievable for most of us. Goodbye. I need to let go of the expectations I had in my 20s. When I do, I will be set free. Also, we will be celebrating my husband’s grandfather passing. We actually do this on his birthday every year (not the day he passed) 1/31. We eat oysters for Frass:) Frass was one of my biggest champions. He was the stand in grandparent for me. He took more interest in my life than my parents. Goodbyes are challenging but really are about living to our fullest. I wrote about my goodbye to my grandmother in a previous post here. That is now my goal - a full life - shifting my ideas of achievement. Ego is what gets in the way.
My Dearest, Dearest Mom...you are still "alive" but have no memory of me or of your life. You are still the kind soul you always were and as I saw you slipping away, I stayed away. My insides turned to grey, shivering with a sorrow for the loss of the person in this world who always, always believed in the uniqueness of "me". Someday, we will be at the point, where you will leave this world and I won't have said "goodbye" to the you I knew. I miss her so deeply and so dearly. I learned everything I know about social justice, about the power of kindness and non-judgment, about everyone having baggage, and an untold story. Goodbye Sweetest of Souls. I don't know why you left but perhaps you needed to preserve yourself. I always sensed a sadness behind your eyes of something that had happened to you, that you could not say. I am most sorry that you "left" and I knew you were leaving but stayed away...I stayed away because every time I saw you and see you now, I leave, sobbing in my car with grief that consumes. Goodbye Mom and thank you for taking care of me, raising me, lifting me, cherishing me, and teaching me to be the person I am. Please forgive me for my fear and cowardice then and now.
The call came at 3:30 am thirty six years ago. My father sobbed uncontrollably; my mother was dead of a heart attack at sixty-two. I remember with crystalline images the frantic flight home, the visits to the funeral home, the funeral Mass, the last time I kissed her cold still forehead. But I am haunted by the moments I can't remember. Did I say I love you before I rushed to the airport that last time I visited? Did I tell you how much I always looked forward to making Christmas cookies with you when I called for the recipe --just hours before you died? My dear indomitable mother -- truth is, I have never said Goodbye.
Poignant also for saying goodbye to parts of ourselves we have to let go of, stages of our lives we have to move on from. Perhaps writing a proper goodbye to those too could help ❤️
I lost my college roommate this week. Two weeks before another roommate died . They were best friends - their deaths for different reasons. I had not kept in touch with them as much as I should have - our lives went tin different directions - and when we were together the conversations were never very deep. but they did represent the great years of my youth - and in losing them that part of my life is dying too. They were key players in that stage of my life - I mourn them and I mourn that part of my life. I will miss them both.
Life is full of love and loss. The pain of loss is a testament to how much we loved and received love. My recognition, realization and fear of life being short deepens my relationships with loved ones. The fleeting of time always fueled my creativity -wanting to capture and hold onto special moments I want to preserve.
Over the years, I have lost significant family members and friends( my mom died young while my dad died old). I am pretty sure some of my friendships would not have blossomed into such deep connections had it not been for our shared diagnoses and lived experiences of cancer. I feel lucky I had them in my life. They still speak to me in memories of strength, courage, grace and spectacular inner beauty. One friend, in particular, truly lived her life to the absolute fullest- knowing her days were coming to an abrupt halt. My life is richer because of all those that have come in my life and left deep marks- scars of love.
Suleika, I’m so happy for you to have been able to vacation and honeymoon with Jon.
May all in this community live life and love to the fullest!
Back in 1981 when my dad walked me across a field overlooking the ocean as a bride, he knew (& I knew) it was his last act. But I was so young I had no idea how to say goodbye. When my family packed up to go to the airport we said we’d see each other soon. He died 2 weeks later far away from me. I felt like a chicken after that....you should have said something profound or a acknowledging!
When my mom was in ICU in 1997 three of my siblings & I made it to Texas and sat with her for 3 days as she slowly left her body and I’m so grateful for that experience, I’d never look away again. It’s such an honor to be there as they pass over.
Saying goodbye, especially if it really is the end, is incredibly hard for me. I always hold out hope that there will still be more time. With the people I love who I lost unexpectedly, there were no goodbyes, and i think of the last meaningless words we said to each other--in both cases over the phone--over and over and over again. But if I did have the chance, have one more hour with them, what I would want to say is not good bye, but I love you, and forgive me, and you have been so good to me and are so incredibly beautiful, and I am so grateful, for you.
Your words really ring true for me. I was with my dad when he passed in August 2015. He died at home with my stepmom, my sister and I by his side. Although he was essentially unconscious for five days before he died (thank you, Ativan and Morphine), I have to think that he knew I was there and could hear me. Loss and grief are so intense, but make us who we are. I like to think that although I’m part of “a club” that I never wanted to join, I can offer support for others who have experienced loss. Thank you, friend, as always for your insightful thoughts. I am so grateful for you.
Friday was the fifth anniversary of my father's death. I was in Houston when I got the call from a hospital in Salisbury MD. As the holder of the medical directive, I was led through the complicated dance of decision making, slowly and repeatedly explaining what was happening to my mother who has dementia, trying frantically to notify my brother (doesn't believe in cell phones) and other relatives and friends. My office got me on the last flight east to Baltimore that evening and a rental car was waiting. A friend in Augusta GA talked to me as I spread through Maryland and Delaware's Eastern Shore until my car pulled into my parents driveway at 3 AM.
What followed was a week of arrangements and two on years of untangling investments, filing tax returns, setting up accounts to automate my mother's finances.
In hindsight on the five year anniversary it is clear I never said goodbye, never mourned, just pushed through doing what I thought Dad would want me to do.
A former colleague who has been living in Jakarta for sometime was recently diagnosed with a rare blue cell brain tumor that has spread to his spine. This after months of miss-diagnosis. He lost precious months and while he and his wife relocated Friday to NYC for proton therapy at NYC I know his blog updates and our messaging through the Messanger app will abruptly end - in a few weeks.
So this prompt is timely today. Adopting the Tunisian custom seems a strong forward strategy.
Just, I'm glad Mexico represented "hellos." Well done.
Wow suleika this one really touches a nerve. You talk about the past goodbye. I lived a regret of not being or staying when my grandmother took her last breaths. Within the last 2-3 yrs I've come to forgive myself considering how young I was then and had a hard dealing with death. I'm scared to write the slow goodbye I'm saying to my dad because it gets me emotionally. Ever since he became transparent with me about happening to him I've been trying to come to terms with it. We usually have weekly call where we chat about whatever. Part of me can't help but think he wanted to do this because he realizes how bad things are. Everytime we miss that weekly call I worry something has happened to him. I've quite a bit of reflection after I almost lost my daughter last January when she had a really serious kidney infection. That has left me in a state of alertness and a bit of shock which I'm trying to shake so I can start to work on me.
Thanks to both of you amazing women for sharing your thoughts on saying goodbye. At my age (75), goodbyes are rather frequent, and many times we don't know that a conversation, electronic communication, or face-to-face visit will be our last contact with that person. Maybe that's for the best (?) I can only hope my last contact with that person was loving in some way. I've been thinking there are different ways a conversation can be loving without actually saying "I love you," e.g., shared laughter; sharing of ideas; plans for the day, the week, the year; how our kids drive us crazy; that the clothes dryer is on its last legs, etc. I'm fortunate to have family and friends with whom I can have a range of conversations. Anyway, you have both provided me with inspiration.
My dad passed away from cancer in the 9p.m. hour on December 23, 2001. He embraced so much in his life. He memorized The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe one summer, having written it on scraps of paper. While he mowed the grass, he would stop and read a line, his lips moving as he committed it to memory, and walk along as he added it to what he had already learned. By summer’s end, he had learned it all, proudly giving me a recitation of it in the living room one evening.
The day before he passed, I curled up next to him in his bed, and read The Raven to him, his lips moving occasionally as I gave The Raven back to him.
One of the most meaningful things I’ve ever read is a quote from Ram Dass, “The truth is, we’re all just walking one another home.” My dad walked me into this world, and I helped walk him out.
Thank all of you for what you’ve shared here, and Suleika, I love you girl.
My friend has been in the ICU since November 27. On Friday I visited him again and truly absorbed, for the first time since admission, following a motorcycle accident, that he will survive this accident. I leant in close and said “I don’t come here because I think you’re going to die and each time could be a goodbye, I visit you because I know you will leave this place and remember that we were here.” It’s an investment in both our futures.
When my dad was I’ll in the icu in Miami Beach, Florida, I flew down there to be with him in his last days. It’s the first time I saw my family so panicked and frightened about being with him. Dad was exhausted and the family, to calm their own fears, kept talking to him and asking him questions, even with all the tubes he had in him. I just sat there and watched and held my dad’s hand. There was a time limit in icu and the family was asked to leave, but I didn’t! I put my chair in the doorway, partly in his room and partly in the hallway. The family said to me “ you have to leave!” I said “no, I’m staying!” When the family left the room I sat quietly watching over dad, and then got up, opened his right hand and put a smooth and beautiful moonstone rock in it. It was the first time I realized I could be there for someone I love in the dying process. He’s been gone since 1980, but there’s not a day that goes by that I want to pickup the phone and call him. “I love and miss you so much dad.”
Mamma, though you've been gone for 25 years i never really said Goodbye to you so this morning at 3:30 am in Denver Colorado i want to tell you I love you, even though you never told me you loved me and even though you told me i was a mistake and was not supposed to be born, even though you were married, you actually did the best you could and you did not realize that it hurt me, I want to tell you I always loved you, goodbye and I forgive you
LaTonya this is beautiful. Thank you. I know deep in my heart I need to say a goodbye. It is not to a person, it is to a dream. A dream of my younger self. I don’t think I am alone. Your reference to Serena was perfect. Jacinda Ardern’s news this week hit me hard. As a feminist, I really believed I could have it all. “In her remarks, Ms. Ardern addressed her partner, the television presenter Clarke Gayford, and their 5-year-old daughter Neve. They were, she said, “the ones that have sacrificed the most out of all of us.”” However, I am also inspired by “The Radical Hope of Patti Smith” interview in Bazaar. She keeps showing up in ways that completely inspire me. The 80s feminist icon is unachievable for most of us. Goodbye. I need to let go of the expectations I had in my 20s. When I do, I will be set free. Also, we will be celebrating my husband’s grandfather passing. We actually do this on his birthday every year (not the day he passed) 1/31. We eat oysters for Frass:) Frass was one of my biggest champions. He was the stand in grandparent for me. He took more interest in my life than my parents. Goodbyes are challenging but really are about living to our fullest. I wrote about my goodbye to my grandmother in a previous post here. That is now my goal - a full life - shifting my ideas of achievement. Ego is what gets in the way.
My Dearest, Dearest Mom...you are still "alive" but have no memory of me or of your life. You are still the kind soul you always were and as I saw you slipping away, I stayed away. My insides turned to grey, shivering with a sorrow for the loss of the person in this world who always, always believed in the uniqueness of "me". Someday, we will be at the point, where you will leave this world and I won't have said "goodbye" to the you I knew. I miss her so deeply and so dearly. I learned everything I know about social justice, about the power of kindness and non-judgment, about everyone having baggage, and an untold story. Goodbye Sweetest of Souls. I don't know why you left but perhaps you needed to preserve yourself. I always sensed a sadness behind your eyes of something that had happened to you, that you could not say. I am most sorry that you "left" and I knew you were leaving but stayed away...I stayed away because every time I saw you and see you now, I leave, sobbing in my car with grief that consumes. Goodbye Mom and thank you for taking care of me, raising me, lifting me, cherishing me, and teaching me to be the person I am. Please forgive me for my fear and cowardice then and now.
The call came at 3:30 am thirty six years ago. My father sobbed uncontrollably; my mother was dead of a heart attack at sixty-two. I remember with crystalline images the frantic flight home, the visits to the funeral home, the funeral Mass, the last time I kissed her cold still forehead. But I am haunted by the moments I can't remember. Did I say I love you before I rushed to the airport that last time I visited? Did I tell you how much I always looked forward to making Christmas cookies with you when I called for the recipe --just hours before you died? My dear indomitable mother -- truth is, I have never said Goodbye.
Poignant also for saying goodbye to parts of ourselves we have to let go of, stages of our lives we have to move on from. Perhaps writing a proper goodbye to those too could help ❤️
I lost my college roommate this week. Two weeks before another roommate died . They were best friends - their deaths for different reasons. I had not kept in touch with them as much as I should have - our lives went tin different directions - and when we were together the conversations were never very deep. but they did represent the great years of my youth - and in losing them that part of my life is dying too. They were key players in that stage of my life - I mourn them and I mourn that part of my life. I will miss them both.
Life is full of love and loss. The pain of loss is a testament to how much we loved and received love. My recognition, realization and fear of life being short deepens my relationships with loved ones. The fleeting of time always fueled my creativity -wanting to capture and hold onto special moments I want to preserve.
Over the years, I have lost significant family members and friends( my mom died young while my dad died old). I am pretty sure some of my friendships would not have blossomed into such deep connections had it not been for our shared diagnoses and lived experiences of cancer. I feel lucky I had them in my life. They still speak to me in memories of strength, courage, grace and spectacular inner beauty. One friend, in particular, truly lived her life to the absolute fullest- knowing her days were coming to an abrupt halt. My life is richer because of all those that have come in my life and left deep marks- scars of love.
Suleika, I’m so happy for you to have been able to vacation and honeymoon with Jon.
May all in this community live life and love to the fullest!
Back in 1981 when my dad walked me across a field overlooking the ocean as a bride, he knew (& I knew) it was his last act. But I was so young I had no idea how to say goodbye. When my family packed up to go to the airport we said we’d see each other soon. He died 2 weeks later far away from me. I felt like a chicken after that....you should have said something profound or a acknowledging!
When my mom was in ICU in 1997 three of my siblings & I made it to Texas and sat with her for 3 days as she slowly left her body and I’m so grateful for that experience, I’d never look away again. It’s such an honor to be there as they pass over.
Saying goodbye, especially if it really is the end, is incredibly hard for me. I always hold out hope that there will still be more time. With the people I love who I lost unexpectedly, there were no goodbyes, and i think of the last meaningless words we said to each other--in both cases over the phone--over and over and over again. But if I did have the chance, have one more hour with them, what I would want to say is not good bye, but I love you, and forgive me, and you have been so good to me and are so incredibly beautiful, and I am so grateful, for you.
Your words really ring true for me. I was with my dad when he passed in August 2015. He died at home with my stepmom, my sister and I by his side. Although he was essentially unconscious for five days before he died (thank you, Ativan and Morphine), I have to think that he knew I was there and could hear me. Loss and grief are so intense, but make us who we are. I like to think that although I’m part of “a club” that I never wanted to join, I can offer support for others who have experienced loss. Thank you, friend, as always for your insightful thoughts. I am so grateful for you.
Friday was the fifth anniversary of my father's death. I was in Houston when I got the call from a hospital in Salisbury MD. As the holder of the medical directive, I was led through the complicated dance of decision making, slowly and repeatedly explaining what was happening to my mother who has dementia, trying frantically to notify my brother (doesn't believe in cell phones) and other relatives and friends. My office got me on the last flight east to Baltimore that evening and a rental car was waiting. A friend in Augusta GA talked to me as I spread through Maryland and Delaware's Eastern Shore until my car pulled into my parents driveway at 3 AM.
What followed was a week of arrangements and two on years of untangling investments, filing tax returns, setting up accounts to automate my mother's finances.
In hindsight on the five year anniversary it is clear I never said goodbye, never mourned, just pushed through doing what I thought Dad would want me to do.
A former colleague who has been living in Jakarta for sometime was recently diagnosed with a rare blue cell brain tumor that has spread to his spine. This after months of miss-diagnosis. He lost precious months and while he and his wife relocated Friday to NYC for proton therapy at NYC I know his blog updates and our messaging through the Messanger app will abruptly end - in a few weeks.
So this prompt is timely today. Adopting the Tunisian custom seems a strong forward strategy.
Just, I'm glad Mexico represented "hellos." Well done.
Wow suleika this one really touches a nerve. You talk about the past goodbye. I lived a regret of not being or staying when my grandmother took her last breaths. Within the last 2-3 yrs I've come to forgive myself considering how young I was then and had a hard dealing with death. I'm scared to write the slow goodbye I'm saying to my dad because it gets me emotionally. Ever since he became transparent with me about happening to him I've been trying to come to terms with it. We usually have weekly call where we chat about whatever. Part of me can't help but think he wanted to do this because he realizes how bad things are. Everytime we miss that weekly call I worry something has happened to him. I've quite a bit of reflection after I almost lost my daughter last January when she had a really serious kidney infection. That has left me in a state of alertness and a bit of shock which I'm trying to shake so I can start to work on me.
Thanks to both of you amazing women for sharing your thoughts on saying goodbye. At my age (75), goodbyes are rather frequent, and many times we don't know that a conversation, electronic communication, or face-to-face visit will be our last contact with that person. Maybe that's for the best (?) I can only hope my last contact with that person was loving in some way. I've been thinking there are different ways a conversation can be loving without actually saying "I love you," e.g., shared laughter; sharing of ideas; plans for the day, the week, the year; how our kids drive us crazy; that the clothes dryer is on its last legs, etc. I'm fortunate to have family and friends with whom I can have a range of conversations. Anyway, you have both provided me with inspiration.