Final moments before departure

The following was the seen and overheard conversation of a father and a daughter in their last moments together at a local airport after her departure plane was announced.

Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the father said, “I love you and I wish you enough.”

They kissed and the daughter left.

The father walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there, I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied. “Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?”

He replied, “I am old, and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back will be for my funeral.”

I replied, “When you were saying goodbye, I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?”

He began to smile. “That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and he smiled even more. When he said, “‘ I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.” Then turning toward me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I wish you enough pain, so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final goodbye.

He then began to cry and walked away.

Readers, especially those over seventy, have you ever said goodbye to someone knowing their next trip to see you will be at your funeral? Genie and I have.

P.S. The basis for this column was from an article by a young lady named Brenda Gonzales. I suspect she has gone through the trip before the funeral.

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Bob is a retired AAL (Aid Association for Lutherans) agent, currently working on his master’s degree in Volunteering. His wife, Genie, is a retired RN, currently working on her doctor’s degree in Volunteering. They have two children, Deb in North Carolina, and Dan in New York. Bob says if you enjoy his column, let him know. If you don’t enjoy it, keep on reading, it can get worse. Words of wisdom: There is always room for God.