DEEPER Look at Saying Goodbye
My Richly Shared Experiences in the Midst of a Big Change
Hey everyone. Before turning the page on the big change in my life following Dad’s death, I thought I’d share a few more intimate moments with you. Thank you so much for being a supporter of my writing. ❤️
Sunset
Something about this particular sunset captured how I felt after my last phone call with Dad. I sensed a fading beauty.
No father is ever perfect, mine included. But I knew he loved me. That was the beauty.
Looking through pictures of Dad over the years brought back so many memories of life growing up; where we lived, and what adventures we had as siblings. The photos are a bit surreal because one of our sons is nearly his spitting image.
Let me share just a couple of stories with you; one from our childhood, and one from our time here in Albania.
Thanksgiving
With Thanksgiving approaching, I am reminded of the years Dad took orders from neighbors for fresh turkeys from a farm a couple of hours’ drive from the tiny town we lived in.
The Saturday before Thanksgiving, some of us would ride with Dad in the old brown-paneled station wagon to pick up all the turkeys for everyone and deliver them to their homes. It was a long day, but it was fun. We got to see how the turkeys were raised and butchered and played with some ducks.
We loaded up all the boxes and headed home. The back of the wagon was stacked high. We all had to sit in the front seat because we had to lay the middle seats down to fit them all in.
I still know exactly what the smell was like inside that car. It became a traditions until we had to move for Dad’s job promotion.
The other story is about this picture.
A couple of weeks before Dad passed, Jeff and I went to breakfast at our favorite restaurant here in Sarande. As we were choosing where to sit, a friendly stranger said, “You’re welcome to sit by us.”
I could tell he was American by his accent or lack thereof. We sat down and started chatting. Whenever I meet other Americans in Sarande, I immediately want to hear their stories—where they are from and what the heck brought them to Albania, of all places. Most Americans have never heard of Albania, let alone be able to find it on a map. So we are always intrigued to find out.
The conversation usually goes like this:
“So you are American. Where are you from?”
“Washington, the State, not D.C. The Pacific Ocean, not the Atlantic. It’s near Canada.”
“Oh, Seattle.”
“Well, about 3 hours inland from Seattle, right in the middle of the State.”
This conversation was no different. Except they asked: “What town?”
We told them Moses Lake, and they said, “Oh yeah, we’ve spent many summers there with our kids when they were growing up and playing on sports teams.”
Come to find out, their American home was less than 2 hours from ours!
It's crazy, for sure!
They were leaving Sarande a week later, so we asked if they had been to Haxhi, our second favorite restaurant. They had not, so we told them it was a must before they left. A few nights later, they asked if we would like to join them for dinner there. Definitely!
We spent 4 hours together talking about our families, our travels, and simply getting to know each other better. Connections are always amazing.
We discovered she had grown up with a teacher Jeff had worked with. This same teacher knew my oldest sister and had taught my niece and nephews. What a small world! It was truly a wonderful time. We traded WhatsApp contacts to stay in touch and then said goodbye.
Fast forward a week later, the night after Dad had passed, I posted on my Facebook to let our extended family and friends know what had happened.
The next morning as we were driving to the airport in Corfu, I got a message from our new friends. She wanted to let me know how sorry they were that Dad had passed.
And how special of a man he was. (!)
She had been one of Dad’s physical therapists at the facility where he had been living. (!!)
Mind. Blown.
I immediately burst into tears…
Dad’s life was extended in many ways by staying as active as he possibly could through his physical therapy sessions. He told me many times how grateful he was for having his therapy continue because he knew if he stopped, that would be the end. I am truly grateful.
You never know the impact of the connections you make wherever you go. And how God places people in your life at the perfect time.
Perfect timing
My brother was supposed to pick us up at the airport in Seattle and we had a miscommunication about the time, so he was going to be late. Because of that, we ended up in the departure ticketing/check-in area of the terminal on our way to get some food.
As we’re walking along, Jeff suddenly drops his suitcase and runs across the corridor, grabbing and hugging some strange guy. Only that strange guy wasn’t a stranger after all. He was a friend we met in Batumi, Georgia a year ago! He, his wife and and daughter were checking in for their flight back to Batumi after having to come back for her father’s funeral.
It was sooo good to see them and hug knowing we were all walking through similar circumstances.
And then…
On our way back to Sarande, we had a 2-day layover in Dublin, Ireland. It just so happened that a friend of ours from when we were in high school also was going to be landing in Dublin. He lives in northern Ireland but had also been away for a funeral.
Jeff and I had been trying to connect with him since we first left the States, but it had never worked out. This time was perfect!
We were made to be in relationships with other humans.
Connecting with real flesh and blood is so important; we cannot thrive in this world alone.
Even as we travel, we intentionally get to know people who live in the places we are living. We make friends with those who serve us in restaurants and coffee shops. We even make friends with others eating in the places we are eating (including a group of high school students, but that’s a story for another time :-) ).
Reach out and make someone’s day. It will not only change them, it will change you, too.