Long Goodbyes

Years ago, a national magazine published my article entitled A Medal for Two, a glimpse into living with our intellectually disabled son, Kristoffer. It began with a quote from Pearl Buck, a diamond of wisdom forged by caring for her mentally disabled daughter. Buck said this.

There must be acceptance and the knowledge that sorrow fully accepted brings its own gifts. For there is an alchemy in sorrow. It can be transmuted into wisdom, which, if it does not bring joy, can yet bring happiness.

Those words drilled into me, and the older I get, I see how acceptance does indeed have alchemical power, especially with events that elicit grief, sorrow, or regret. This transformation is necessary if we are to maximize our happiness and fulfillment.

But, as Hamlet said in his famous soliloquy, “ay, there’s the rub. Certain painful experiences are reluctant to relinquish their hold. They require long goodbyes as they recede further on the horizon. I spoke about this in a recent post entitled Those Wounds That Keep on Wounding.

I have some hopes for all of us. In the midst of these prolonged farewells, I hope we come to understand the wisdom they impart. I hope these gradual widenings of awareness reveal new insights and power for living.

Here are some examples of what I am still learning to accept.

Acceptance of past mistakes: We’ve all made errors, and sometimes the memories of those choices still hurt. Learning self-care includes extending grace to these earlier versions of our selves. As writer Stewart O’Nan says, “You can’t relive your life, skipping the awful parts, without losing what made it worthwhile. You have to accept it as a whole…” The wisdom that arises from this is a greater capacity to love both ourselves and others, despite every human flaw. We certainly need more of this ability in our fractured world!

Acceptance of limited relationships: How often have we longed for deeper connections in key relationships? There is nothing wrong with our desire for intimacy, but sometimes clear limitations keep us from breaking through. Our personality types, our worldviews, our emotional intelligence quotients, our cultural and racial backgrounds—all these can form barriers. It’s especially painful when we hit these walls in our families, even marriages. We see the differences and we want to assign blame, either to ourselves or others. We want to exert more control. But the real wisdom lies in a deeper awareness, summed up by writer Abhijit Naskar: “Acceptance is simply love in practice. When you love, you accept, when you lack love, you judge.” This kind of love enables long goodbyes to our expectations of others, our images of who we want them to be. It clears our vision for a beautiful refocusing of who they are in the present.

Acceptance of unrealized dreams: Motivational and self-help writers share a similar mantra. Our dreams, they say, will only die if we give up on them. Can you hear Steven Tyler belting out dream on, dream until your dreams come true? But what if we’re clinging to desires that are unrealistic and self-limiting? What if there will be no room for the next amazing chapter of our lives until we release them? We’ve been taught that hanging on tenaciously to our dreams is an emblem of strength, but sometimes it is far stronger to let go. The surprise is that often we discover new dreams that are truly in our reach!

In her book The Child That Never Grew, published in 1950, Buck shared her journey with her daughter Carol. It was a vulnerable “coming out” at a time when children with intellectual disabilities were often kept hidden, considered shameful to the family. Buck told how she found a home for Carol at the Vineland Training School in New Jersey, and though Carol would come home occasionally, she always returned to the institution for long-term care.

I cannot presume, I can only imagine what it was like when Buck said goodbye to Carol each time she dropped her off. She would look in the eyes of her precious child, seeing the obvious limitations, feeling once again that sorrow that was slowly being transmuted into acceptance, even happiness.

I often feel the same as I look into the eyes of Kristoffer.

It’s a long goodbye to the old sorrows and an embracing of the beautiful human being God has given us.