Let us not say 'goodbye'!

“Let us not say ‘Goodbye’, but as the French say, ‘Au Revoir!’ simpers the brazen George Wickham in my favorite five hour Pride and Prejudice movie. If you’re like I am, you cringe every time Wickham opens his stupid mouth to say that ridiculous line. As if anything he said in French could be better than his saying it in English! There are just times in life when less is more. When silence is better than sound. When you just need to say goodbye and leave, for heaven’s sake!

I can’t decide whether it feels like yesterday or a lifetime ago that I said goodbye to Dan before his first deployment. We had just been married a month and a half earlier, and our marital bliss had consisted of a great honeymoon and a couple weekend rendezvous, since I was in NJ and Dan was in TX. I am absolutely terrible at saying goodbye. In my mind, I prepare all these sweet, wonderful parting words of love and wisdom. And then about 6 hours before departure, I start simmering. My breathing becomes shallower and my tear ducts start leaking and my jaw clenches tighter to keep in all the emotions. And, in that magical moment when I’m supposed to wax eloquently and deliver my goodbye speech, I am reduced to tearful silence. Thus, I was waiting in line at the airport to go through security, trying to be brave, when I turned around for one more look and a wave goodbye. There was my soldier with just a hint of brimming tears, waving back. And I steeled my heart, grabbed a tissue, disappeared from view…. And feverishly texted all the sweet nothings I suddenly remembered I was supposed to say!

I deeply resented not being present for the official sendoff. I was intensely jealous of all the spouses who got to be with their soldier to the very last minute. I could be brave! I could handle the emotional roller coaster! Sure, I was new to this, but by golly I wanted to be the best soldier’s wife ever, and I couldn’t believe I had to say goodbye at the stupid airport…

Coming up on deployment number two, Dan and I talked about how we wanted to say our goodbyes this time. Part of me still resented that airport goodbye, and I was going to have it MY way this time. Since I was the one getting left behind again, I figured I deserved to be selfish, right?!

As per usual, the actual day and hour of sendoff changed a bajillion times in a matter of days. Til almost the last minute, we didn’t know when Dan would need to leave. Lucky for us, the Army chose the most convenient time of 2AM on a Sunday morning. Dan was part of the advance team, so there would be no official ceremony or sendoff- just a small group of guys and a couple spouses sprawled on the grass in the dark. I waited in the car as Dan unpacked his bags… and I started simmering… again… we were getting close to the crucial moment, and suddenly I needed to decide what I was going to do. It was my choice this time, just like I’d wanted. No airport. No security line. I could hold on to my soldier til the very last minute!

“Honey, do you want to come outside and wait with us for a while?” There was no pressure in his tone- just a genuine desire to accommodate MY desires this time.

And do you know what I found myself saying?

“You know… I think I’d rather just say goodbye. Here. Just you and I… Like we did last time. Would that be ok?”

And we held hands and prayed and cried together and said all manner of awkward last minute things that were totally not in our beautifully-planned speeches. Things like, “I’ll try to walk the dog every day.” And “Don’t forget to take care of the cars.” Or “Hey, we should really come up with a name for the baby.” And the ever important, “Try not to die, ok!”

What I realized in that moment is that everybody handles goodbyes differently, and that’s ok! And in that moment, I didn’t want to share my goodbye with anyone else. I wanted to cry and not feel guilty for it. I wanted to give my husband one last snotty, slobbery kiss and not care what anyone thought of it. I wanted to pray with him and know that it was just Dan and me and Baby and our heavenly Father. And I didn’t want to make small talk and pretend that inside my heart wasn’t breaking into a million pieces… again.

There are times when life is romance and butterflies and fireworks and pink ribbons and chocolate milk bubbles and trampolines. When you smile out the window and shout “Au Revoir!” because it does sound so much sweeter! And there are times when life is just a proverbial pile of poop. And ‘goodbye’ is ‘goodbye’, and the next person who tries to turn it into an ‘au revoir’ is going to get punched in the face. Poop stinks, and once you get over that, you hold your nose and get through it!

I’m so glad Dan and I got to say our goodbyes on our own terms. And, God forbid we ever have to do it again, we’ll figure out what will work best for us in that moment, too.  Every phone call and Skype session in the next 8 months will end in another goodbye. And it will still stink like poop. But I’m pretty sure when it’s all over, life will again be romance and butterflies and fireworks and pink ribbons and chocolate milk bubbles and trampolines… and maybe even unicorns!