New Beginnings.! But First ! Good bye , Farewell, Vaya Con Dios. I Wish you Well.

I have said a lot of goodbyes.

A few the gut wrenching, final farewells which only happen in death. If you’re young enough, you are lucky you haven’t had to  crawl and scratch your way out of that kind of pain.

We all experience those temporary good byes, from our first day in kindergarten, to kissing and hugging our own children as they venture out on their first date and then, too soon, on their honeymoon. All of us clutch tightly, cry, afraid to let go, worried, yet hoping in our excitement that our goodbyes  to our loved ones are, in fact, temporary.

There are the hurt and angry goodbyes. You know the ones. “I don’t ever want to see you again. Goodbye!” 
These, too, I have said at one time or another. Even if I  haven’t voiced them aloud, there have been times I screamed the words in my  mind at night, alone,  in the dark, for no  one to hear,  because I didn’t have the courage to voice my threat aloud.

And then there are the “Vaya Con Dios,” “Go with God” good byes. These brandish the sharpest edge. The   keen blades of these farewells draw a line in the sand, as if it makes its mark in blood ... not knowing if the farewell  will  be temporary or final, but knowing we  must let go,  we need to let go, yet dreading the act.

It's best to say these goodbyes while I'm  still strong enough, knowing  if  I wait, I   will be too weak, too far gone, too breathless to form the words and push them from my heart. 
 So, I wrench  out the words, “Thank you for the memories,” and I whisper, “I wish you well in your journey,” while at the same time my want   to stay cuts deep.   The days pass and  I imagine my body and soul bleeding out, wasting away to dust.

But as sure as good byes are the click of the lock, the slamming of the door, or the light in the window, they are only a disguise for new beginnings.

I turn around.

  I put my  back to the door and see the candlelight stretching through the window pane, across the road ahead. That is the way. Scary but exciting, it is the way ....  not the comforting chair behind the door I shut.

Each  state, each town, and each  campground, with its gurgling river, shifting surf, or vast forest lands lures me to stay, to relax, and give up  on facing the uncertainty of new adventures. But I start the engine and step on the gas. As Thoreau  once said, "How vain is it to sit down and write, if you have not stood up and lived?" 

Today with my back to the door, I face new thunderstorms and lightning to find my place in the sun. They ignite my energy and spur me  onward. Life is about living. During the   final hours on one's  death bed, the soul struggles and fights with a fierceness that brings the watcher to tears.

Don’t wait until you are too weak. Fight with a fierceness now, before you are too weak. Show the world how to live, and it will rejoice.

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