It’s been a struggle saying goodbye to our puppies as they leave for new homes. Four are gone. Two leave next week. That leaves one definitely for sale, and the other pup we wanted to keep? Well, let’s say we are getting too old for this much youthful vigor!
Each puppy has a unique personality. We’re watching their ears develop their typical German Shepherd salute! “V” as in Victory! Right now, they are acting like velociraptors with only sounds that can emanate from a movie’s sound director via specialized computers to go with the drama. These remaining five. Bear. Samantha. Byrd. Max. Baby (for want of a permanent name.) They’ve been wrestling, growling, thumping all over the porch like a herd of wildebeest fleeing the crocodiles in some backwater river in Africa!
You can’t help but love them all!
That’s what they want you to know. When they calm down, slip into your grasp for loving and petting, you find each one is special. We pray for good homes where our puppies will be loved like we gave them love.
It’s solemn business, this struggle to say farewell. It’s not just to these puppies, but it’s been to favored pets through the years. Some of my hardest tears have been saying a final farewell to a beloved pet. Sitting on a veterinary clinic floor, as first one needle, and then the other, and they slip from our grasp.
Saying Farewell
We’ve all learned to hate saying our farewells as we move on in life. Growing up, I went to four school districts. Deer Park. Seabrook. Channelview. LaPorte. Each district paints its boundaries up and down the Ship Channel leading from the Gulf of Mexico to downtown Houston. As we leave one school, I never remember it being tough to say “so long…” as I looked ahead to a new adventure. I did not even attend graduation. Mail me my diploma. I’ve moved on! Before I was out of High School, I took college classes and worked a full-time banking job.
Leaving jobs was the same way. New Adventures! Mr. Sulu? Take us out of here!
When it comes to saying good-bye, it’s mainly to a few individuals that we will miss. Names and faces pass off the scene, and memories capsulate the only scene you can remember. Looking back, I remember saying goodbye to the astronaut and NASA families as we moved across the ship channel. Of course, good-bye was after school started, and Mr. Robichaux helped me stay connected to my 5th-grade class a little bit longer as we traded letters for a few weeks. I sure wish I had kept those letters!
I left a job for Texas to go to Alaska, and it was tough. I left Alaska for Texas. Ditto. It’s not just the money or career choice. I left churches, family, and friends at the same time. Neighborhoods and communities. Starting over. Strange New World.
There’s something about finally realizing how tough it is to say farewell. It’s serious business. You better think a hundred times about changing your foundation and replacing it with something different.
Past Few Years
It’s sad to think we wait until a memorial service to say our farewells. When tragedy strikes, you are caught off-guard. It is a struggle to deal with your emotions in public as we all gather one final time for sharing memories. During the pandemic, faces have dropped out of the picture of life only later to find they had succumbed to one situation or another. Immediately, we (at least I do) feel guilty. Why did I not stay in touch better? They were friends, family, even part of my community of believers and co-workers.
After leaving Texas Commerce Bank for Alaska in 1994, I hated to whisper my farewells to several good friends. In the North Country, a particular friend and ex-boss (Henry Gonzalez) would reach out to me as one after another passed away. It was tough hearing about J. David Craig. My bosses, bosses, boss. He sat with me many a morning chatting about life. We were both early morning workers. Me? I’m an early morning person. Dave? Probably because it was his manager’s nature to spend as much time as necessary to do his job. Me? I just wanted to get off early and enjoy family and church in the evenings. Why did he talk with me so much? Only time will tell.
From across the nation, I’ve said my farewells in front of a computer screen as I watch memorial services from afar. It’s not the same as being in the building, but it’s better than nothing. The pandemic has made it harder to attend.
Struggling to Say Farewell is Serious Business: This morning, thinking of those gone before and how much they impacted me. A lengthy list I could share.I don't forget your investment in me. If anything, I pay it forward. Isn't that the… Share on XIf Time Could Speak
There will come a day when others will speak similar farewell messages about me. I guess. Who knows?!! I plan on making it to triple digits (100+), so I will probably outlive most who knew me back then or even today.
Life has a way of moving on. I pause. What if this were my last blog post? Hmmm. Re-read. I’ve left so many people and moments out of this short posting. For a moment, I feel like I’m on a stage giving thanks for an award I’ve just received, and blinded by the attention, I stumble through the names of those I would like to thank. My bride of nearly 48 years. My children. Parents. Siblings. Cousins. Aunts. Uncles. Those who like me, and those who didn’t. Friends. Enemies. Frenemies. Those who prompted you forward, and those who held you back. Teachers. Administrators. Neighbors. Pastors. Co-Workers. Saints of the Most High God I’ve gone to church with!
Pause with me a moment.
If you could read your future memorial service today, what would it read like? It’s not too late to prepare your life for it to sound better than that! Make amends. Build bridges. Smooth out the rough edges. Pick up those scattered by your passing through life like a bull in a china closet. Plan better. Tie up loose ends.
Think about that future moment. It’s not too late. The farewell time will come. Let’s make it memorable.