Never Have Liked Goodbyes

25 Apr

I remember being a little girl and traveling from Alabama to Kentucky to visit all of my grandparents (and aunts, uncles, great-grandparents, and cousins, too!). It was usually around Easter, Thanksgiving, or Christmas and we would stay for several days, sometimes a week I think. We slept on pull-out sofas or cots in a small house that only had one bathroom. But I didn’t mind. Well, I take that back. The only time I minded was when Dad would try to follow through on his threat to fold us up in the pull-out sofa if we didn’t get up. Haha!! Oh, how us girls loved (still love??) to sleep!


This is me around 3 or 4 years old – in the aftermath
of Christmas at my grandparent’s house.
I’m pretty sure those pants weren’t supposed to be
cropped pants, but hey – I was rockin’ them!

Whenever we got into the car to go home, I would cry because I didn’t want to leave them. Even as I grew older, as a teenager, my eyes would tear up as we pulled off that gravel drive and headed down the street to travel home. I always felt like a part of my heart was staying behind.

Barry and I visited my parents a few weekends back and I experienced the same feeling as I hugged their necks and got into our car to go home. The tears started to form and I tried with all my might to choke them back refusing to let them leave my eyes. But then as we drove down the driveway, I saw my folks standing there waving goodbye. And the tears came.

I’m not a kid anymore, and I still don’t liked goodbyes. Most of us don’t, I suppose.

My sweet cousins are having to say a very difficult and painful goodbye to their dad this week and my heart hurts so badly for them. I want them to have more time, give more hugs, and create more memories. But, sadly, that is not to be.


You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.
Psalm 56:8

Goodbyes just stink. And it seems like our hearts are never ready for them.

Those who believe in God and have accepted Him as our Father have hope. That hope can lessen the pain of loss because we know that although the goodbye feels permanent, it is not. But today, hope is struggling to break through their pain. Right now, the pain is fresh and harsh and breathtaking at times. And it hurts.

If you are someone who prays, would you mind saying a prayer for my cousins today? It would mean so much to me.



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