Back when I was only working part-time, and even when I would sleep in on work-from-home days, my husband would often try to sneak out of the house without waking me. I know he was trying to be courteous, allowing me the extra sleep he wouldn’t get that morning. However, I need the proper good-bye. Most mornings, no matter how quiet he tried to be, I would hear the door close behind him. then I’d bolt out of bed, run downstairs and out the front door in my jammies, and I would demand my good-bye hug and kiss.
For a while I think he looked at it as a kind of game – could he succeed in getting out of the house without my noticing? But I kept telling him that I wanted…no, needed…that good-bye. Mornings that I woke up after he’d left, without my good-bye, I would cry. It took a while, but I finally got him to understand how much I needed that good-bye, and he would at least come upstairs and kiss me before he left for work – he had figured out that this was much less disruptive to my sleep than bolting out of bed to track him down.
To be honest, I’m not sure I even knew why I felt I needed the good-bye every morning – afterall, I would be seeing him again in a few hours, right? But if I think back, I have a feeling it comes from the death of a high school friend of mine. I still remember the last words we exchanged. He and I were walking out of chemistry class into the melee of the high school halls. It was a Friday. He said, “Have a good weekend.” I said, “I’ll try!” That was it. What a stupid thing to say. Why not, “Thanks you have one, too”? No, just “I’ll try”.
I know that we can’t plan our last words to anyone because life is unpredictable. But I do know that I can give my husband a hug and a kiss every day before we part. I suppose that has to be enough.