Tag Archives: loss

Saying Goodbye.

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My dog Hansel

This is Hansel. It was snowing. He was the best dog ever.

Yesterday, I had to say a painful and oppressively final goodbye to my dog Hansel. He was old but he was the best dog any girl on the contrary could ask for. He protected me when I felt threatened, he comforted me when I was afraid, and he soothed me when I was ill. In some ways, it felt like Hansel took care of me and not the other way around. He was an incredibly intelligent dog and had the sweetest heart. Saying goodbye was more awful than I could have ever imagined. I miss him.

So, I’ve been thinking about “goodbye”. Why do we say it? Where did it come from? And why does such a simple word hold such power. Goodbye can be liberating, sad, happy, thoughtful, kind, cruel, or confusing. Basically, choose any emotion and it can be goodbye.

Upon some light (very light) research, I discovered that the word “goodbye” is delineated from the phrase “God be with you”. Why did people say that? Well, my guess is that it’s because the plague and cholera and syphilis were ravaging the world and people were dying all over the place so it was best to part with a nice sentiment to send each other into the hereafter. Just a guess. Like I said, it was only light research.

As to why that word is so powerful….well, I think that’s because it feels final, even if it isn’t. I think that if we said “shark farts” to people in parting it would be just as powerful. Maybe even more so because now I’m wondering if sharks even fart and thinking that would actually add a deeper layer of mystery to the parting. Anyway, I think it is the act of parting or letting go that gives goodbye it’s power.

In case you were wondering why some people say “So long” it’s because it’s derived from the word “Salaam” which in Arabic is a parting phrase conveying the deepest levels of goodwill, but English people heard it and thought everyone was saying “so long” so now we say that. True story. I think that’s probably why it doesn’t have the sting of “goodbye” because we aren’t even really saying the right thing or in the right language for that matter.

Just something I’ve been thinking about since yesterday. What do you think of goodbyes?

Save Him

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Zoe had been in love with Frank her entire life. They met in elementary school when he tripped her on the playground- she broke her arm and lost her heart all in the same day. From that day on Zoe had only one mission: marry Frank and spend the rest of her life making him happy.

Zoe knew all about how to make a husband happy. She had watched her Mother cater to her Father’s every wish her whole life, and she didn’t know anyone happier than her Father. Her Mother made him three meals a day, washed and ironed his clothes, rubbed his shoulders every night, and she even bathed him. Her Father always had a smile on his face, and who wouldn’t in his position? He went to work every morning, although, if you mentioned it Zoe could never remember what it was he actually did for a living. Zoe always had a notion that he managed some sort of cosmetic factory because he always smelled like perfume and had lipstick smeared on his shirt collar when he came home at night.

Occasionally, her Mother would make a mistake and rub her Father’s shoulders too hard and then she would feel so bad about making that mistake that she would be sick and have to spend a few days in the hospital. One time, when she burned the potatoes, Zoe’s Mother was in the hospital for a month. When her Mother came home she made sure to spend extra time with Zoe, teaching her how to make her own husband always happy when she grew up.

Zoe made sure to always do whatever Frank wanted. She even did all of his homework in high school and is probably the reason he graduated. Frank left her once, to go to college, and Zoe didn’t leave her bed for three months. He came back though, because he loved her and also because he had a little “trouble” with a girl at college and also he never went to class and even if he had wouldn’t have been able to pass the class. Frank wasn’t intelligent but Zoe loved him anyway. So, Frank married her and Zoe’s Father gave them a house and a car and gave Frank a job. Although, Zoe was never quite sure what the job was. It didn’t matter though because Zoe kept Frank happy and she was fulfilling her life’s goal and using every trick her Mother taught her.

Zoe made a mistake with Frank’s dinner once and she felt so bad about it that she was in the hospital for two weeks. When all her bones healed from being sick Zoe came home and promised Frank she would never make a mistake like that again. Frank was happy and Zoe kept him that way.

Poor Zoe wasn’t able to keep her promise. The dry-cleaners lost one of Franks shirts. When Zoe told him about what happened Frank lost all his happiness. He was so sad about his shirt that he took one of the kitchen knives and began swinging it wildly at Zoe. For the first time in her life, Zoe’s first thought wasn’t about Frank’s happiness, it was about keeping the knife away from her. Frank swung and swung and hit Zoe in the shoulder and the leg, then Zoe did something her Mother never did, she fought back. The neighbors heard the ruckus and called the paramedics who walked into Frank and Zoe’s house and saw an awful scene. Zoe seemed to be bleeding from everywhere and Frank had wounds on his ankle and arm. Before Zoe lost consciousness she implored the paramedics for one thing.

“Save him!” “Save him!” she begged.

And they did.

The Girl Who Cried

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There once was a girl who cried at just about everything. Movies, books, weddings, people yelling at each other on the street, old people eating alone, getting valentines from boys she liked, getting valentines from boys she didn’t like. She would bite her bottom lip and a few tears would escape from her eyes. She wasn’t loud, in fact, she tried not to draw attention to herself. Everyone in her town knew about her and everyone had the decency not to stare when she cried and to keep all of their judgement to themselves until she left and then they freely discussed her predicament. Some people called her an empath, others a nutter, and a few people called her Lou. This last group were people who actually knew her and spent time with her everyday, they called her Lou because her name was Louisa although no one in the town had ever called her that.

So, Lou cried and people talked about it. Who wouldn’t? No one knew why everything made her cry, Lou didn’t know why. Whenever she felt any emotion that was stronger than indifference she would bit her bottom lip and the tears would flow. She used to try and prevent it but that only made her cry harder. It was just her way. She knew it was considered abnormal, but what was to be done about it?

One day, when the time was right, which is to say, whatever time it was at the time, Lou met a boy she liked very much. She liked him because he stared right at her while she cried and always asked her what it was she was feeling that had caused her to cry. No one had asked her that since she was a little girl and when she was a little girl she hadn’t had the vocabulary to describe what she was feeling as she did now. Of course, it only makes sense that when she couldn’t describe it she was asked to, and when she could describe it no one cared to ask. That’s called life. Life was, coincidentally, what made Lou cry the most. It all makes sense you see. So, Lou and her inquisitive boy fell in love. He always asked and she always answered but she cried the exact same amount she always had and nothing really had changed for Lou except that everything had changed because she was in love. They went on like this for some time until the boy told Lou he didn’t love her anymore and was moving to Decatur, Georgia because that was where he wanted to move. Lou said she understood and then stared at him with perfectly dry eyes.

“Aren’t you going to cry?” the boy asked.

“Am I not?” asked Lou.

“No.” said the boy.

“Oh, sorry.” said Lou

The boy moved to Decatur, Georgia. Lou never cried again.