Little Sadie says Good-bye
Chris has been in town the last few days packing up his partner and her children to move them to the West coast with him. He called a few times, we missed each other then finally today I was able to drive over to say good-bye. Again. We've been in the good-bye business for the last year.
The Red Diamond Inn was jumping with friends and family helping with the packing. I made my brief appearance and headed out to the street where I saw five year old Sadie sitting alone on the stoop with her head lowered to her fists.
What's wrong Little Sadie, I asked sitting down beside her.
I miss my friends, she wailed.
I pulled her onto my lap.
You'll make new friends in Seattle and it's beautiful there.
She said, I don't care about seaddle! No one asked me if I wanted to go, I was told. I wasn't given a choice!
I was astounded by her self awareness, eloquence, and understanding of choice.
I realized telling her about Seattle was only dismissing her grief.
Why will you miss your friends, I asked. Because I know the power of separation and how poorly I had just handled it with Chris. I was practically indifferent not wanting to become emotional and distract him from packing and the time line.
They are nice to me and fun to play with. They like me.
She then told me about one of the older boy she would miss as I admired the part of her hand where she has dimples and I have knuckles.
What else will you miss?
This house. My bike, I don't get to take it, my Mom is donating it (this was said with a bit of despair). I want to stay here!
We dawdled a bit as I talked about the mountains and flying in an airplane. The people will look this big she said as she jumped off my lap and showed me a small rock.
I took her plump hand, and we crossed the street so she could take a good look at the Red Diamond Inn. To say good-bye to it I guess.
I see something you don't see she announced.
I remembered the game and asked about the color. She grinned. We played the gane for ten minutes.
Eventually she pushed her bike back into the yard, hugged me and waved good-bye. A good-bye much more graceful and poignant than I had managed.
Chris, I forgot to tell you I love you.
Of course you know that...I just needed to say it.