Stand at the doorway

At her husband's funeral, the eulogizer spoke of how he greeted us at the door. He'd swing the door wide with a big smile on his face and say, "ello, ello, ello." Every time. At the funeral, I smiled with my eyes closed during that story.

When they told me she was in hospital following a heart attack, it wasn't her hellos that I thought of, it was her goodbyes. Whenever we left her place she'd stand at the doorway and wave until we were out of sight. I always wanted her to go in before that, wanted to make sure she got in all right. Didn't want to turn the corner and she'd fall. On the phone, her goodbyes were always long and painful. First was an awkward silence. Then she would say, "ok. Right-oh. Bye bye, love."