Janie contacted me about how to write her own Goodbye Letter. She followed the outline provided here and wrote a beautiful letter to her father. She wrote it around Father’s Day, but just now was willing to share it. Thank you for your courage, Janie. Your letter will inspire others to do the same.
Photo by emdot and courtesy of everystockphoto.com
My first memory of you was when you were flying me on your feet. You are laying on the shag carpet on your back and you are wiggling your bare toes under my belly as your legs fly me around. You are holding my sides with your hands and they feel tight on me. You are laughing and I am laughing and Jilly is crying because she wants a turn.
Then I remember you and mom fighting. I remember you yelling and slamming the screen door. You wanted to be alone, but I tried to go outside and sit next to you. You would let me sit next to you if I didn’t talk. Mom would yell at me to come inside after a while and I did because I was afraid not to. I hated you and mom fighting.
When you moved out and said goodbye it was hard. I knew why you and mom were getting divorced. I knew your drinking had gotten bad and that you didn’t work all the time and that mom didn’t love you any more. But I didn’t care. I didn’t want you to leave because I still loved you.
For a while Jilly and I had two houses. You always said we were lucky because we had two houses to live in and most kids only have one. But then you didn’t have your house and then we stopped visiting and you stopped calling. But I still loved you.
Now my last memory of you is when mom called me at Jilly and Tom’s house and she told me you passed away. She sounded so tired, but she wasn’t crying. I guess I was too stunned to cry, too. I wish I could just cry and cry, but I can’t get it all out. I knew this would happen. In my heart I knew one day the drinking would get you. But I always hoped you would get the better of it. I guess I was wrong.
I will miss you. Even though I haven’t seen you in a while, I know I will miss you. I will hold you close to my heart. I will remember the daddy that used to fly me on his feet. I will forget the hard times and remember the good times.
It’s Father’s Day and I want you to know that I still love you.
This letter was given to me by a friend suffering from breast cancer. It’s amazing how women identify with their hair.
Hair photo courtesy of Image*After.
Dear Lovely Tresses:
It’s time to say goodbye. You have always served me well.
I am a plain person with no outstanding skills or qualities except for you.
I am short. You are oh so long.
I am nondescript and dumpy. You are luxurious and glamorous.
People never comment on my clothes, but they always comment on you.
No one remembers what I do or say, but they remember you.
My grandkids love to play with you. I love when they comb you and style you and spend time with me because of you. You have brought me closer to them. You have made them think of me and tell their friends about me.
But now I have to cut you off. I want to cut you off before you fall out on your own. I will miss you. My family will miss you. I wonder what will happen without you. I know I have cancer, but I’m sadder to loose you. What if I scare my grandkids without you? What if people don’t talk to me because I don’t have you with me?
I will save you and have you framed in five little frames so that I can give one to each grandchild to remember you. I know you will be back one day, but it will be many, many years from now.
Now my next goodbye will be to cancer!
I came across this story by Jim Stingl from the Milwaukee County Journal Sentinel and felt it was something to share with you. Very touching.
Click this link to read the entire article.
Until this embrace, these pen pals had not seen each other in 25 years. Photo courtesy of Jim Stingl.
These women didn’t have to write goodbye letters to each other–they’d been writing their whole lives, so I’m sure, nothing was left unsaid.
As Christmas arrives, we remember to give thanks for our friendships.
I guess we all grieve in different ways. This person wrote a letter to Robin Williams whom, I assume, he never met in person. Writing a letter to someone you don’t know personally didn’t cross my mind before today. But this letter, hopefully, helped ease the pain in the author’s heart:
You made me laugh. You brought joy into people’s lives. You were so upbeat. You were a genius. I’m so sad that you left us. There was so much more you could give to the world. I’m so sad to know that that you were sad when all you did was to make others happy.
I’m sending you this letter in my heart. I wish I sent it to you before you felt like you had nothing left. You gave so much. We will miss you.
I encourage you to write a letter to a loved one today! If you’d like me to share it with others, please send it to me at letters@LastGoodbyeLetters.com.
This came my way and, after cleaning up the punctuation and a word or two, I’m posting it for you. I don’t understand all of it because, apparently, I’m not cool. But the gist is plain to see for everyone: Don’t allow yourself to be a target. Love yourself even if you think no one else does. You are a person of value. Let’s say a prayer for all the Angels in the world:
It’s time to lace it up dude. You are cool. You’re beautiful. You’re not fat. You’re not cray cray. I know you. You’re clean, chido. No molly. No weed. No more caguamas.
Next time they come at you, turn around dude. Swerve. All you need to prove is to yourself. You don’t need to fight back. You don’t need to cut to feel anything. You’re the bigger man dude.
I’m down with you. And that’s the only thing that matters. F@*# those other guys. No hay bronca. Orale!
I received this letter today and I wondered if I should post it. It isn’t all flowery and nice, but it is reality. And there is definitely love in it. I thought I should post it so that others who are primary care givers for loved ones with dementia will see that it’s OK to feel scared, mad and alone. Read on:
Dear, dear Mom,
As I sit here looking at you napping in your chair, I realize that you’ve been gone from me for such a long time. I miss you. I miss that we used to have such stimulating conversations with Dad. I miss that you used to smile and laugh at my jokes. I miss you taking care of me. I miss your intellect, your insight and your bright spirit.
Now, I’m taking care of you. And it’s hard. And I’m tired. Sometimes I want to go to sleep and not wake up. You are healthy, except your mind is gone. My friends and sister all tell me to think of myself and place you in a home. Do you know that I’ve called several, been on the list to get you in and when the phone call comes that says there’s room for you, I just can’t do it. They’ve stopped calling me because they know I can’t place you. You’re my mom.
Sometimes I’m so angry with you and Dad for leaving me in this situation. I guess I don’t know what else you could’ve done, but I’m still resentful. And I’m scared. I can’t lift you without help from Hospice workers. There’s so much I can’t do. I just try to hold on to any little bit of normalcy. It’s so wonderful for me to get an hour to go to the grocery store by myself. I feel free. And I feel bad that I feel free.
I’m thankful that you know me a little bit still. That’s a little bit that I can hold on to of the old you.
I love you, Mom. And I’m saying goodbye now even though you can’t read this letter. I just want you to know that you are so special to me. Even like you are today. Even though it’s hard.
I love you.
If you would like to share your goodbye letter with others, please e-mail it to me at: Letters@LastGoodbyeLetters.com
This moving letter came to me recently. It shows the love and pain that goes into the decision to take a loved one off life support. I thought I’d share it with you:
Dad, I wanted to talk to you and tell you what’s going on. We are gonna pull the intubation tube out of you in a bit. You most likely won’t be able to breathe on your own after this.
I wanted to thank you for being a great dad and teaching me to be a man of science so that I can understand and deal with what’s been happening. You always told me you didn’t want to be hooked up to machines. So, to keep the promise I made to you in Colorado, I will not let them keep you in a vegetative state. You are probably gonna die today and I wanted to be the one that told you. I promise it wont hurt. I promise you will go painlessly. You will become stardust again. You will be pure energy and get to go see all those places you always dreamed about.
Photo by jimkster courtesy of everystockphoto.com
We will bump into each other again one day– random photons bouncing off each other headed to see a different part of the universe.
Don’t fight it when it happens. We will all be here guiding you to the next phase.
I’m gonna go now. I love you; the rest of the family wants to speak with you. The nurses will start giving you medicine soon so you won’t feel anything.
I love you.
See you out there one day. Godspeed. I love you. Don’t be afraid I’m here.
I hope this beautiful letter moves you into action to write your own letter to someone you love and let them know how you feel! If you would like to share your letter with others and give others inspiration, please send it to me and I’ll share your love.
By now you may have heard about the sweet story of 96-year-old widower, Fred Stobaugh who wrote a love poem to his wife and sent it into Green Shoe Studio’s contest to become a produced song. When everyone else was sending in their entries via YouTube, Fred’s came by US Postal Service. But it’s sincerity touched the producers’ hearts and, apparently the hearts of many others. Today, Fred’s song, Sweet Lorraine, is trending as one of the top downloads on iTunes.
Fred and Lorraine met in 1938 when she was a car hop at the A&W Root Beer stand and their love for each other grew for 75 years until she died this past April. They had so many happy years together to which the photos Fred likes to show can attest. And I’m sure that Lorraine knows how much Fred loved her.
Maybe Fred wrote other poems and love notes to Lorraine. But I’m sad because so many people don’t really tell–tell from the heart–others about the way they feel. It is often to painful to say in person, so writing can be an option.
This web blog is dedicated to helping others put their words down on paper and delivering the thoughts to the loved one before the person is gone from our lives. Maybe it’s a move, or a marriage, or a child moving out of the house. Maybe you are writing a goodbye to the ‘old’ you as you start fresh on a new journey of life.
Please write down your thoughts and give them to your loved one. It’s good for you and wonderful for them. If you need help writing your letter, check out my Tips On How To Write Your Own Last Goodbye Letter.
I was speaking with a friend who told me that he had written his mother a goodbye letter and gave it to her on her birthday a couple of months ago. He said that he was unable to say in person to her all the things that he was able, over some time, to put down in writing on paper. This man told me that his mother just passed away, but before she died, he had a chance to be with her. And, surprise! She mentioned reading the letter in which he had poured out his love and appreciation for all she had done for him growing up and as an adult.
My friend described his mother as “a fairly stoic woman.” And, apparently the extent of their discussion about his letter was her comment, “Well, I’m glad you feel that way.”
As I mention in my How To Write Your Own Last Goodbye Letter, you can’t choreograph or predict how someone will respond to your letter. My own father didn’t even discuss it with me–it was just too emotional.
Photo courtesy of everystockphoto.com. Photographer: Freeparking
But it doesn’t matter whether you discuss it. My friend felt happy that he had made the effort to let her know his feelings. And, it mattered to him that he had written it and that he knew she received it.
Write your own goodbye letter today! To your parent, to your child going off to college, to your loved one being deployed, to yourself as you turn over a new leaf.
I wrote my thoughts–not a letter per se– to my Mom several years ago. I just re-read it and teared up realizing how much my mother means to me. The note I wrote her was almost as poignant for me years later as it was for her when she first received it as her Mother’s Day gift in 2008.
I thought I’d share just a bit from my letter and give you tips on how to write a note to your mom for Mother’s Day:
1. Start by describing your mom–her attributes both physical and emotional. What comes to mind? For me I think “My mom’s mind is complex. It is never quiet. Mom takes on others’ worries as her own because she is a very caring individual.”
2. Think of your first memory of your mom and jot it down.
3. Write down another memory or two. They don’t have to be in any chronological order. Sometimes just a detail or two can be powerful.
4. Sit back for a minute and re-read what you wrote. What do you feel? Write that down as a close. I wrote this: “Mom sees the good in people and small things. And that’s a gift.”
Your mom may not agree with your assessment of her personality. She may not remember the memories to which you refer. But by writing the note, you will share with her how she has impacted you life.
If you would like to share your note to your mom, and have it considered for the book of letters I’m gathering, please CONTACT ME using the LEAVE A MESSAGE tab at the bottom right of this post. I would appreciate your contribution greatly.
Happy Mother’s Day!