CENTRE COUNTY — I knew what I was going to write about in this column right up until I sat down to write it. I had great quotes and stories that I wanted to share, and then I received a text. The text was from Moyer Bauman Jewelers telling me my necklace was ready. I started to reply and then stopped. Tears began welling up in my eyes and I thought to myself, I can’t reply right now. And then I asked myself, “Am I avoiding something?” And the answer was a resounding, “Yes!” So I decided to go deeper.
As I went deeper, I realized I was avoiding feeling the emotions that were stirring in me. I didn’t want to feel the grief.
You see, our son, James, asked Moyer Bauman Jewelers to create a necklace for him. A necklace that represented a piece of his spirituality, a piece the two of us share. I loved his necklace so much, I asked them to make one for me too. The text saying my necklace was ready arrived two days before James was to get into his car with as many of his belongings as he could fit, and drive across the country to start his new life in Minnesota.
I’ve been telling everyone that I’m excited for James and I am. He’s taking his recently earned MBA, moving in with a very good friend and continuing his work for an incredible organization, Uplifting Athletes — an effort that started here at Penn State and harnesses “the power of sport to invest in the lives of people impacted by rare disease so that everyone has hope for the future.” These are all great things I want for James.
However, even though I’m excited, I’m also sad. In his five-and-a-half years in college, James was never more than four hours away and came home for breaks. In the last year, he’s been home a lot more due to knee surgery and starting his new remote job. He is now embarking on his professional “adulting” career, and life and coming “home” will be different.
This is a transition countless of us have gone through. I know my family will survive and even thrive. We have with our daughter, Miss J and her move to Virginia. But gosh, the goodbyes can be hard.
I have always found goodbyes to be hard and sad. I remember it starting when I was a child. I cried when my parents dropped me off and picked me up at summer camp, when my brother moved to Los Angeles and when I moved to Orlando, to name a few.
Then, when I became a mother and the goodbyes involved our children, things intensified. And believe me, I’ve done my best to control and avoid the sadness. When Miss J was getting ready to move to Florida to go to college, I tried to manage the tears by crying daily as I listened to a song that reminded me of her. It didn’t work.
It’s curious that goodbyes are so hard for me, yet I’ve chosen work that is a lot about goodbyes. I companion people and their families as they journey toward death. I create and officiate at funeral and memorial services. I facilitate grief education and support gatherings. All of these involve goodbyes to life itself. Obviously, more intense goodbyes than the transitions and moves I previously described.
But maybe me working in goodbyes isn’t curious at all. Goodbyes unravel me at my depths and help to reveal the part of me that is always there and never changes. The part of me that knows joy. As poet and writer Kahlil Gibran wrote, “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”
I get why we as humans want to skip the pain and just go to the joy. I’ve obviously tried to do it myself. What I’ve learned, and many people have confirmed for me, is that it doesn’t work that way. Avoiding pain is ultimately harder than sitting in it. As the expression goes, in order to heal it, you have to feel it. Plus, more joy is available only after the pain.
I’ve just learned that lesson again. I’m not saying I’m once and done, but as I’ve written these words, I’ve allowed myself to feel my sadness. I now feel more present and peaceful than I’ve felt all week as I jumped from one thing to the next and did not listen to the stirrings inside. I even replied to the jeweler’s text.
So in the next couple of days when we mark James’ move with a ritual of letting go — writing down on paper and throwing into a fire what we don’t want to take with us into our new seasons of life — I feel ready. There might be more tears, but I’m reminded now to trust them and let the ritual help guide us over the threshold. I’m also reminded of the more joy ahead for all of us.
To talk more about goodbyes, you are invited to join us at the following Koch Funeral Home’s community outreach gatherings:
- Virtual Monday’s Moments Gatherings, “Following Your Longing” on Monday, Aug. 11, from noon to 1:30 p.m. on Zoom.
- Med-Knit-ations: Knitting Our Hearts Back Together in Partnership with Centre Region Parks & Recreation on Tuesday, Aug. 12, from noon to 1:30 p.m. at Spring Creek Park, Pavilion #1, 901 Houserville Road, State College.
- Stories of Loss in Partnership with Juniper at Brookline on Tuesdays, Aug. 12 and Aug. 26, from 4:30 to 6 p.m. at Juniper at Brookline, 1950 Cliffside Drive, State College.
- Monday’s Moments at Spring Creek Park in Partnership with Centre Region Parks & Recreation on Monday, Aug. 18, from noon to 1:30 p.m. at Spring Creek Park, Pavilion #1, 901 Houserville Road, State College.
- Death Café Virtual Gathering on Monday, Aug. 18, from 4:30 to 5:30 p.m. on Zoom.
More information on all of these programs can be found on the Bereavement Gatherings and Events page under Resources on the Koch Funeral Home website. To reserve your spot and receive the invitation links, email Jackie@JackieHook.com, call 814-237-2712, or visit the Koch Funeral Home Facebook page.
Jackie Naginey Hook, MA, is a spiritual director, celebrant and end-of-life doula. She coordinates the Helping Grieving Hearts Heal program through Koch Funeral Home in State College. For more information, please call 814-237-2712 or visit kochfuneralhome.com.
