I know most of you have read this....or heard it in a sermon....but for some reason today I got it as an email and sat at my desk and cried. I wish I could say I had this profound thought but I did not. This little reminder about life is from Bob Perks. I wish I could tell him thanks for sharing it. I have flown many times and I love watching people in an airport. Back before 9/11 I loved sitting in the airport watching people come and go. I loved to see people returning to their loved ones....I always felt sad for the ones that no one met....and I cried for the ones who said goodbye and turned away with tears in their eyes. I have been that person....the one who was met by loved ones, not met at all, and said goodbye....it can be tough. The story he writes goes like this:
"At an airport I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her plane's departure and standing near the door, he said to his daughter, "I love you, I wish you enough." She said, "Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy." They kissed good-bye and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?" "Yes, I have," I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me. So I knew what this man was experiencing. "Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?" I asked. "I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, her next trip back will be for my funeral, " he said. "When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.' May I ask what that means?" He began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with enough good things to sustain them," he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory. "I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Good-bye." I have been there....and done that....on both sides of the coin....it is not easy....especially when you know that this is the forever goodbye. When my father died....I knew it was the end....and when I left...I knew it was just a matter of time. When my mom died it came out of left field and it knocked my knees out from under me.....but I learned a valuable lesson thanks to this story.....to always wish the people I love enough. God bless you real good today.....and may you have enough!...ALWAYS!
I am a woman who wears many hats and loves them all. I am a singer - I sing with the group Still Magnolias. I was part of the original First United Methodist Church Arbor Praise Team until we moved. After 24+ years of teaching English 11 and Spanish I - II at Benjamin Russell High School I decided to take a job closer to home. I now teach Spanish I & 2 at Randolph Co. High School and Wadley. I thought I was getting close to retirement and looking forward to it, but decided to move my cheese and try something different. I am a preacher's wife and a preacher myself. My husband Frank is the pastor at Rock Mills United Methodist Church and I am the pastor at Midway (Wedowee). It has made our conversations interesting, to say the least.