My Turn: 'See you later' is easier than 'goodbye'

My younger brother Mark has observed that all the fans filling the seats at any packed sports arena will someday die. My youngest brother Joe offered that Father Time is undefeated when I shared a photo of an aging pop star.

My daughter, Christina, needed to fulfill a class assignment by visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Eager to spend time with her, I drove her into the city. Rather than waste precious minutes hunting for free curbside parking, I turned into a garage, explaining our time together is short.

While these sobering reflections may disqualify us as guests at your next New Year’s Eve party, you would be hard pressed to prove us wrong.

My wife, Mary Ellen, has differentiated between the Italian and Irish goodbye. The Irish move quickly through a room as they head for the door, while Italians behave as if they will never see each other again. How can you be sure we won’t, I have asked.

What is retirement other than a colossal goodbye? Clients, colleagues and even how you made your living fade into the past. Bid adieu to the street vendor who sold you a cup of coffee and bagel each weekday morning. Arrivederci to waitstaff at your favorite lunch spot, the conductor on the Long Island Rail Road and security personnel at the front desk.

Early in my career I spied a recent retiree while riding the Long Beach branch of the Long Island Rail Road. His casual windbreaker and chinos did not camouflage his discomfort while speaking with fellows who had once accepted him as one of their own. As an outcast who had ceded membership in their circle, his loneliness was painful to witness.

Why do I find goodbye to be so difficult? Isn’t it rooted in every aspect of our lives? I have lately realized I will see many people I have known my entire life only a handful of additional times. Birthday parties, barbecues and dinners spent in each other’s company were once riches too plentiful to count. After adjusting for moves and the responsibility of grandchildren, we can now count time we will spend together on the fingers of one hand.

A man I knew explained goodbye was a contraction for “God bless you.” As he and God had ceased relations following the painful death of his young bride, he vowed to never speak the word again.

I avoid the pain of goodbye by substituting, “See you later.” This is what I said to my barber, dry cleaner and other shopkeepers before moving from our first house on the Jersey Shore 30 years ago. They may still be wondering what has become of me.

Our daughters end each phone call with “Love you,” which I recommend as another useful substitution. When my mother was dying, she asked who will tell the jokes in her absence. I told her she was irreplaceable, and I let this be our goodbye.

Although I love the house and neighborhood in which we live, I realize our time together is short. Rising property tax and daughters who live out of state will soon force our hand. I rationalize our sorrowful parting by telling myself only the lucky man receives the opportunity to say goodbye to what he loves, rather than flee that which is unpleasant.

Frank Salerno

Lloyd Harbor