It’s a frightening thought. Death. For me, especially, when I consider my child. Perhaps when you consider anyone you love being left behind to mourn you. Knowing that you caused them pain. You did it and you can’t take it back. You can’t say you’re sorry. I don’t want to place that kind of anguish on someone. I have felt the agony of loss and my heart grieves at the thought. Even more so when I envision my son.
I think about him at work, at the grocery store. Pushing buggies, unaware that something has happened to me. Something like death. I picture him sitting on that bench outside, trying to call me to let me know he’s off work, but I don’t answer. So he waits. Watching the headlights from cars pulling into the parking lot, wondering if it’s me. Wondering why I’m not there. Wondering if I forgot him.
I could never forget him.
And I think of him, sitting on that bench alone. Feeling sad or worried about me, and it makes my heart weep. I don’t want to leave like that. Without a goodbye. Without a kiss from his cheek to take with me.
I’ve been on the other side of that kind of leaving. The one where someone you love is stolen from you. No chance to say I love you, I’m sorry or…see you soon. That is the worst kind of goodbye. I know. I have said a lot of them.