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Writer's pictureHeather Burkett-Ocasio

The Long Goodbye (by Author HR Burkett)


Mom & I...another house, another favorite chair...
Mom & I...another house, another favorite chair...

Author Note: This was originally written on June 29th, 2015. At the time, I was sitting vigil by my mother's bedside in hospice care, waiting for her last goodbye.


Earlier that day, I made a reference to the fact that NO ONE tells my mom when it's time to leave a party. Upon thinking about it, I started to remember one of my mom's beloved habits and it set me to giggling to the point that I nearly cried.


If you've never attended a party with my mom, she was usually hosting the party, assisting the host of the party, or cleaning up after the party whether she hosted it or not!


Most importantly, she was usually one of the very last people to leave - in her healthier days, often helping the host by carrying leftovers or gifts to their car, or carrying out the last bag of trash.


In the incredibly rare event that Mom was not the last person to leave a party - my dad and I often teased that she had a five step process to leaving. With this in mind, I present to you: The Long Goodbye.

 
Dad & Mom at her favorite chair in my cousin's home.
Dad & Mom at her favorite chair in my cousin's home.

STEP 1: WARNING OF OUR NEAR DEPARTURE


This usually occurred from a favorite spot in someone's house. In my cousin's house, this would take place from the head of her dining room table, near the hall. In my Grandmother's old house, she'd make the announcement from the right hand end of the sofa. In my Uncle's house, this step would happen in the reclining chair of their family room. At my brother's home, this usually happened from the dining room chair nearest to the front door.


The announcing that we would soon depart was always followed by the very valid reason for not staying longer. Something like: "Yeah, we have to get going soon. Hubby has to wake up early for work tomorrow."


STEP 2: FIRST ROUND OF KISSES AND HUGS

About fifteen minutes after the warning was given, the first found of kisses and hugs would ensue. Originally, Mom would go around the house to say her goodbyes but, in later years it was more difficult for her to move around, so family and friends were beckoned over to her favorite spot (see Step 1). After the first round of kisses and hugs commenced, this step was followed by additional cleaning or assistance, which lead to further, in depth discussion.


STEP 3: ANNOUNCEMENT/CONVINCING


About 45 minutes to an hour after the warning, Mom would make this second, more determined announcement - though I'm not sure who she was really trying to convince at this point.


This usually lead to me putting our left overs in our car, then Mom and I gathering our purses and such, and the three of us heading towards the living room/front door where Round 2 of the kisses and hugs would ensue. Normally, children and/or pets would do something adorable at this point in time, which would require further investigation.


STEP 4: THE GREAT OUTDOORS


At this point, Dad would breathe a sigh of relief as the three of us and the host officially crossed the home's threshold and spilled out onto the front porch.


The car doors would be unlocked. He'd slyly slip Mom's purse off of her shoulder without her noticing and carry it to the passenger side of the car. He'd ease her water mug or thermos out from her hand, take a sip from it and then place it into the car's cup holder. He'd stand, changing from foot-to-foot impatiently, before finally giving up and sulking away to sit in the car and crank up the A/C while he waited. Mom would remain oblivious as - now that she was alone with the host, they could engage in more private, intimate, secret conversation that was inappropriate for the party and guests going on inside.


STEP 5: THE CAR


As Mom's back or knees began to hurt, or she grew hot from the Miami humidity or tired from the long day, she'd tell the host to excuse her, but that she really needed to go to the car to sit down. Sometimes, it was because she needed a sip of the water that my dad had cunningly put in the car. Other times, it was because "David and Heather are obviously tired - sitting and waiting in the car for me - so I really need to go."


The host would oblige and walk Mom to the passenger seat of the car, see her thoroughly seated inside and close the door. Mom would then roll down the windows for a kiss and a hug and resume the conversation (or start an entirely new conversation!) from her new comfy perch inside the vehicle. Depending on how many guests were left inside the party, this final step might take anywhere from 5 minutes to another half hour.


Over the past week, many people have offered suggestions for why my mom is fighting so diligently to remain with us. They've suggested that we let her know we will be okay, that we love her and that we will take care of each other. They've suggested I remain by her side 24/7, or that I step away to give her moments alone. The advice has been numerous and varied - but I think my last update may have hit the nail on the head.


In death - as in life - Mom's just really having a hard time leaving the party.


And this is her long goodbye.


Mom in her favorite chair at my brother's house.  The icing was my doing.  ;-)
Mom in her favorite chair at my brother's house. The icing was my doing. ;-)

 

My much beloved mom passed away in my arms two days later on July 1st, 2015...but her joy and laughter live on...they live on in me.

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