Learning from the piece of 'Saying Goodbye'

My today's entry is a derivation from my friend's fantastic piece of writing that impress me a lot. I wonder how he could write in such a lovely way. Smartdog 670 expresses his feeling regarding to his mother's journey to the second life , the eternal destiny of all . I keep reading on this time after time. It's a sad tale of life written with beautiful language and style. Here it goes...

My words tremble as I pour every ounce of my soul into them. They are for my mother; They are for the world. And she drinks them in to her tired body and her nascent soul. She drinks them in as she lies in bed and we say goodbye – maybe for the last time.

I drink in the beautiful image of her eyes. They held me in tenderness when she first gazed upon me in New Rochelle Hospital, June 6, 1970 – the day I was born. The eyes that for 35 years watched me with affection, frustration, joy, pain, ambivalence, fidelity, impatience… love. The eyes that now compel me to realize that I had been wrong about so many things, and how lucky I am to have a chance to make everything right.

I had expected myself to be a complete mess in this moment; a sobbing, remorseful, overwhelmed child who is scared to have his mother leave him for one moment, let alone for the rest of his life. Surprisingly, I’m not. Though my words waiver from time to time under the weight of those particularly hard things to say when you say goodbye, I am generally composed; and so is she.

Instead of the crushing sadness I had expected, I am infused with a fortifying dose of gratitude and respect. Respect for the moment, respect for everything my mother has been through as she battles her cancer, and respect for the extraordinary woman who did so much for the world she brought me into.

There are of course tears and whispers and touches that cannot possibly be translated into words. There is that utterly indescribable essence of the moment; time stops, every molecule of air listens, and you can feel the light around you. You may or may not know what I’m alluding to here, but if you don’t, I hope someday you will.

What now carries me through the difficult hours of the day is a simple realization. I had always been afraid of death – whether my own or someone else’s. I’ve learned there is nothing to be afraid of. Dying is just another way of finding peace. Because of the grace my mother has shown though all of this, I know she’ll be at peace when she decides it’s time for her to leave this world.

One last hug and kiss, and I’m out the door, into the car, dropped off at the airport, and on my way back home. And this is where I finally get to the point.

If you ever have a chance to say goodbye, don’t be afraid to make it count. You’ll never regret it.

Thank you smartdog 670. I learn from you, your beautiful language and style of writing. One way of learning language is by imitating the best piece of writing. It is just like to be success by imitating successful people's principles.