There will never be another good-bye

It was five years ago today;  I walked alone to the entrance of Royal Victoria Hospital – on the sidewalk leading to you.  But you were not there… you were already walking beside me;  You were already holding my hand.  The sidewalk was cold and wet.  There was no sun.  I felt abandoned.  You would never do that;  That was my choice to feel that way.

You never left me, Mom.  Not before now.  Whenever I had a bad day – I could call you.  I would cry to you.  I never knew how that must have felt. You were always strong, always comforting, always there.  You rejoiced in my celebrations.  I would never tell anyone else the things I told you as I feared they would think I was bragging.  But you – you celebrated with me.  You were proud of me.  You told your friends about me.  When I was upset, you would comfort me and tell me things I wanted to hear – not what were right – but what I needed to hear until I came to my own senses.  You knew what was best.  We fought.  You apologized – even when you were not wrong.

This morning I walked with you once more.  It was five years ago today.  I wondered if anyone thought me to be crazy as I spoke “out loud” with you.  I needed to hear myself speak so that I knew I was not dreaming.  To be honest, even after I spoke, I still wasn’t certain if that made a difference.  The sidewalk was cold and wet.  There was no sun.  I was hastened back to the entrance of RVH in my mind.  I knew you would not be there.

But you were.  At least, what looked like you … I said good-bye.  You didn’t hear.  You didn’t answer.  You didn’t smile.  You didn’t give me a hug.  You didn’t smile… you did nothing.  With your eyes closed, I could not see the blue that once held hearts captive.  I could not hear your laughter when you played with our children.  I could not hear you sing.  “Good-night, Irene”, you would once sing.  But I said good-bye.  You never did.  There was a reason.  You never left.

You are in my heart.  You do still feel my joy.  You do still rejoice with me.

Another good check -up, Mom.  I am still in remission.  I am still walking, Mom.  The cold, wet sidewalk doesn’t seem so bad when I think of you.  The sun doesn’t need to come out when I think of you.  When I think of you, I hear your voice, I see your smile, I am comforted by your presence.

I’m still standing, Mom.

Five years ago today, I said good-bye.  Today – I am saying good morning.  I may have said good-bye, but you never left me.

And I – will never say good-bye again.

About inmycorner

This blog began as an opportunity to tell my Dad's stories. I sat with him and the computer and together we told stories. It was a wonderful way to get to know Dad. He was 9. He and Mom had a wonderful life together and since she passed away a year and a half before him - Dad was ready to join her. I no longer tell his stories but have found stories of my own. The impetus to resume this blog was the discovery that I had stage 4 ovarian cancer. Since blogging had been so therapeutic for my dad and I to get through our grief, I felt maybe this would be a good outlet to process my situation. I also hoped it may serve as an outreach to anyone else who is facing this very ominous journey. So far, so good.
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10 Responses to There will never be another good-bye

  1. pixieannie says:

    Stacey, as I read this, every hair on my body stood to attention, every nerve fired….. a brave piece. My thoughts are with you x

    • inmycorner says:

      i think it may be because you can relate. thanks – a mixed emotions kind of day — hope you had a good work out in some colourful clothes!!!! grin.

      • pixieannie says:

        Hi Stacey, your news is the best news I’ve heard of in a long time. I know it doesn’t take away the uncertainty of tomorrow…. little steps.

  2. This is so beautiful. I’m sure it took courage to put your thoughts on paper; thanks for sharing this heart-memory with us.

  3. pixieannie says:

    I thought you’d like to read this; a poem by Leo Marks, used during the 2nd World War, as a code poem.

    The life that I have
    Is all that I have
    And the life that I have
    Is yours.
    The love that I have
    Of the life that I have
    Is yours and yours and yours.
    A sleep I shall have
    A rest I shall have
    Yet death will be but a pause.
    For the peace of my years
    In the long green grass
    Will be yours and yours and yours.

  4. So very lovely Stacey. I believe she is with you always.

  5. Gwen says:

    Beautifully written again. (even had me shedding a tear or two). I LOVE that you still feel her walking with you, so GREAT to know she still has your back.

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