‘Not your favorite but probably your funniest!’

I’ve got lots of things going through my head and my heart but they aren’t ready to be shared just yet.  Maybe in a year, maybe in a month, maybe never.

Instead I’ll share a goodbye story that involves all the same characters but at a different time and under much different circumstances.

She didn’t know why she had to go, she just knew she did.  It was that familiar gut feeling that had drawn her to several places before.  She never knew why she had to do it, but she trusted her gut and let the adventures begin. 

But before any adventure could start, good-byes had to be said. 

Burke always hated this part of the adventure. 

Today she stands just outside of her childhood bedroom in the dark.  Burke didn’t want to turn on any lights for two reasons: One it was ridiculously early and two, she didn’t want to have to see what was going to happen next.  Her mom shuffles out of her parents’ bedroom in her pink robe to say good-bye.  Even though the hallway is pitch black, Burke can feel the look on her mother’s face.  It’s an emotion that her proud and strong mother rarely shared: she was crying.  Aggie had to let her baby go.  Sure she’d let three leave the nest before but Burke was different for her.  Not only because she was the baby but because she was such a free spirit.  Aggie worried that Burke wouldn’t grasp how far out she swam this time and she’d have to rescue her from the undertow again.  Aggie and Peter had done it several times before and they’d do it again if Burke needed them to.  She’d seen Burke go down so many paths only to wind up someplace she didn’t want to be she hoped and prayed to God that this was finally the right path for her.  She was proud of Burke, there wasn’t any doubt of that in Aggie’s mind.  She can’t pinpoint it because life sometimes swirls around you so quickly that you feel like you’re on a carnival ride, but at some point, Burke grew up into a strong, independent, kind and sweet woman – just like her mother, Aggie would joke to herself.  But right now in that hallway where there were only shadows, Aggie swore she was saying good-bye to her four year old daughter in a messy ponytail and footed rainbow pajamas.

Burke opens up her arms and reaches out for her mom.  She wants to hug her tight unsure of when she’ll see her next.  She’s never lived further away than a day trip home.  Holding her mom she feels the familiar fuzziness of the pink bathrobe, the one she’s seen her wear a thousand times before.  Her mind flashes to the scene that’s so familiar it’s practically tradition.  Aggie sitting at the kitchen table reading her newspaper, tossing out tidbits of information ranging from recent deaths (making sure to note anyone who’s last name started with a “D” to an “H” for her husbands benefit.  Working with elderly folks she felt she gave him a little cheat sheet as to what cases were now ‘closed’), to weather reports to traffic violations.  As Burke wraps around her mother, she inhales the familiar scent of Estee Lauder, and the perfume dances up her nose and wraps her mind, triggering a type of comfort and reassurance that only a mother can give her child.  She fights back tears wanting to appear as strong as her mother thinks she is but in all honesty, it’s excitement that overrides any nerves she should have.

“You have everything?”

“Yeah, I think so.  Well whatever will fit in my car at least.  It’s Vegas.  I’m sure what I forgot to pack or wouldn’t fit in the car I’ll be able to find there.  Maybe they got one of them there Wal Marts.”

Aggie chuckles through the tears she’s trying to hide.  Humor has always been the best deflector of emotion in this house. 

“Okay, well make sure to call us when you get out of New York.  I think you’ll have good weather so you’ll be okay.  Just watch the traffic and don’t speed.  You know the troopers are always sitting there on 81 just waiting.  The last thing you want to do is get a ticket that you have to come back for!”

Burke had heard this speech before and knew that this was Aggie-speak for “I love you and I’ll miss you.”  It was part of Aggie’s charm.

Maybe because she wasn’t sure how long it’d be before she was back in this house again or maybe because of the adrenalin rush she was starting to get, but Burke’s senses were on heightened alert.  Turning away from Aggie, she started down the stairs she’d walked, ran, jumped, slid and even fallen down a million times before.  But this time she heard and felt every creak and crack each step gave, each one echoing louder in her ear than the next as if the house was even in on saying good-bye. 

In the kitchen comes the second good-bye.  This good-bye is instantly the opposite of the previous one.  All the lights are on in the kitchen and even the small t.v. has been turned on – maybe for the news, but Burke would bet it was more likely being used as a distraction.  It kind of goes hand in hand with using humor as an emotional deflector.

Sitting in the chair that for as long as Burke can remember, has always been Daddy’s chair, is Dad.  He’s dressed and sitting with his legs crossed ‘watching’ t.v. absent mindedly strumming his fingers across the kitchen table.  Behind him, the big bay window that overlooks the backyard acts as a mirror, making Burke feel like a voyeur of her own life.

“Did you say good-bye to your mother?”

“Yeah, she came out to the hall to say good-bye.”

While Burke juggles with the one bag that she’s allowed herself to live out of for the next three days, Gus, the handsomest pug you’ve ever laid your eyes on looks up at her as if to say “Where ta hell are you going this early?”  Glancing at the familiar bag, Burke swears she can see right when it clicks in Gus’s mind and he realizes that she’s going to leave him – again.  Gus is a treasured reminder of a different path Burke’s gut instinct had taken her down a couple years before.  She loved Gus but since moving home, Dad and Gus had become best friends.  Burke knew that it’d be selfish for her to take him with her. 

Curses.  Another good-bye to say.

Peter picks up the bag that Burke just dropped and heads towards the door. 

“You’ve got everything?”  There’s a lilt to Peter’s voice and Burke can’t tell if it’s because of the hour in the morning or because he’s trying to fight back tears.  In an effort to keep her emotions in tact, Burke chalks it up to the hour.

Just like Aggie, Peter was nervous for Burke and where she was headed this time.  Vegas is a huge move for his little girl.  He would never doubt that she couldn’t handle it (he was always his children’s biggest cheerleader), he just wished he could make it fool proof for her.  There wasn’t any question that Peter loved that his daughter was bold enough to make such a big move.  Secretly, he had movie scene visions in his head of her becoming a big shot and taking over Vegas.  Shaking hands with the high rollers, limousines and just being the new ‘it’ girl.  Then the rational part of him would kick in and he prayed that she would be able to just get a job and make ends meet.  Baby steps, right?

Out the back porch and into the driveway they walk in silence.  Parked in front of them is a Nissan Altima that is packed so tightly a ray of sunshine can’t pass through it.  Burke and Peter had made sure of that the day before when they worked everything they could into the car.  Through an intricate series of flips, turns, pushes and of course wiggles, their literal game of Tetris with Burke’s belongings was successful.  This car was essentially a one bedroom apartment on wheels, minus the bathroom of course.

Cramming her travel bag into the seat next to her, Burke turns to hug her dad good-bye.  He doesn’t offer the same advice as Aggie, because after 40 years of marriage, he already knows the sage advice she has doled out.

“Drive careful and have fun.  Call if you need anything.  Here’s some gas money.”  He slips her $200 and hugs her tightly.  The words ‘I love you’ almost dance across his lips but they get pulled back quickly.  That’s just not something they say to one another.  It’s an unspoken and understood truth.

Settling in behind the wheel, it begins to finally sink in with Burke what she’s leaving behind.  Slowly, she pulls out of the driveway and turns to head out of town.  Illuminated by the lamppost in the driveway and streetlights, she sees Dad waving, Gus pressing his nose against the living room window and upstairs, an arm draped in  light pink is waving from the bedroom window.  Tears well up in her eyes as she pulls away.