I've been thinking about this since I'm leaving for college soon and I have to say goodbye to a lot of people. I wrote it on the car trip to my gramma's. Enjoy!
CHERISH EACH GOODBYE
“Nick!” Trina squealed, and flew into his open arms. “You’re home!”
Nick’s mouth collided with hers for a few moments, and he laughed as she clung to him. “I never get tired of coming home to this.”
“I missed you,” she breathed against his shoulder.
“I know, but I have three whole weeks before I have to leave again.” He twirled her wedding ring around her finger and kissed her again, achingly sweet. “Let’s make the best of it.”
Three weeks went by too fast for Nick and Trina’s comfort. Just an hour remained before Nick met his brothers at the studio and headed out for yet another road trip, this time a series of radio station appearances around the country. He and Trina ate breakfast together, talking casually and ignoring reality, until he had to go. He hoisted his duffel bag onto his shoulder and crooked a finger at his young wife. “C’mere, baby,” he asked, and she fell into his arms and let him cover her face with kisses. “I love you. I’ll be home in two weeks.”
“I hate saying goodbye,” she muttered as he trailed his lips across her cheek.
“I love it,” he retorted, and chuckled when she looked at him in slightly insulted surprise. “It promises me something much better to come. Saying goodbye leaves me with the promise of coming home again.” He kissed her nose. “Cherish each goodbye.” He saw the tears in her eyes and gathered her into his arms. “Bye, my baby.”
Two weeks felt like a year, every day a full month. Friends whose husbands had the same sort of traveling schedule told Trina she would get used to it, that once she and Nick had been married more than a couple of years, it would be easier.
She didn’t believe them.
When she heard the rumble of his Mustang coming up the street, she shot out the door and across the driveway. He waved, smile splitting his face, and she opened the car door and leapt into the passenger seat even as he turned into the driveway. She was kissing him before he had shut off the car.
Time proved Trina’s friends wrong. Years passed, and Nick’s homecomings never became less joyous, nor did saying goodbye become less difficult, but she learned to appreciate it for the same reason he did: it promised hello sometime in the future.
“Say goodbye to Daddy,” Trina said to the toddler in her arms
“Bye-bye, Daddy.”
“I love you, Daddy,” said the six year old boy hugging Nick’s waist, face pressed to his stomach. “Come home soon.”
“One month,” Nick promised as he kissed the younger of the two children. “Mommy will help you count down, okay?” He pulled Trina close for a swift, tender kiss. “I know she’ll be counting down, too.”
“As always,” Trina agreed. “Have a safe trip, Nick.”
A month later, someone covered Trina’s eyes as she ate lunch with the kids. “Guess who?”
“Daddy! Daddy home, Daddy home!” squealed the toddler covered in peanut butter and jelly.
“Oh, man, my cover’s blown.” Nick grinned. He spun her into his arms and kissed her deeply, then attended to the excited girl and boy at his feet. “Dad, Dad, look!” His young son help out a piece of paper full of red X’s. “Mommy and me—“
“Mommy and I,” Trina corrected.
“—Mommy and I made a calendar for you coming home! Looked, I exed off the days all by myself.”
“Oh, I’m so proud of you,” he praised. “That’s special.” He smiled up at Trina, who was bouncing on her heels with excitement at her husband’s return.
“It was as much for me as for him,” she admitted, blushing like a newlywed despite their approaching nine year anniversary.
And so it went for years, until Nick retired and finally spent every day by Trina’s side. Yet there was still one goodbye left to say. Years of touring and performing onstage had worn on Nick’s body, as had his diabetes and a few too many Red Bulls. He lay, weakened and grayed, in the hospital bed, every breath shallow and labored. His two children, now middle aged themselves, sat soberly at his bedside, but his attention was on Trina. Her face was drawn with wrinkles and sadness, her once-golden hair silvering over. His hand slid, trembling, across the sheets, searching for her. She clasped their fingers together and he whispered, “It’s time for goodbye.”
“Not yet,” she answered desperately, “please, not yet.”
“Time,” he insisted, and pulled on her hand just firmly enough to urge her closer. She leaned over him, face to face, tears blurring her vision. “Love you, Trin,” he struggled. “’member… goodbye… a promise.”
“Goodbye promises us something better,” she quoted. “It promises hello later on. Cherish each goodbye.”
“…see you again,” he murmured, and stroked her cry wrinkled cheek before kissing her, soft as air, for the last time. “Goodbye.” She saw the smile in his eyes before it creased his face.
Just like that, he was gone. Her son and daughter cried quietly, but she wiped her tears away. “Goodbye,” she said, not as a farewell… as a promise.
