“The Longest Vasso Goodbye”
September 22, 2023
Every family has their traditions, and dragging out saying goodbye after gathering at my parents’ home was one of ours. When one of our visits came to an end, we would start by giving what had become known as “The Vasso Goodbye”. Our goodbye began in the downstairs den, worked its way to the main floor kitchen, into the living room, then by the front door, outside the front door, on the driveway, at each car, and then ended with a final wave to my parents as each car drove away. Why such a long procession? Simply because we did not want to say goodbye.
Just like we did not want to say goodbye to Mom on the evening of September 21, 2023, just two months shy of her 97th birthday. Originally it was prognosed that Mom had hours to days left of her earthly journey. But those hours to days extended to 12 days of sitting by Mom’s side, enjoying tender moments of smiles, kisses, and mouthed sentiments of love whenever she opened her eyes. And we said goodbye every day just in case that day was the day! As a result, my sister-in-law, Kathy, declared Mom the prize winner of “The longest Vasso goodbye!
While Mom may have defied hospice’s prediction of her last day this side of heaven, she was right on time with the appointment God had made for her, “And as it is appointed unto men once to die,” (Hebrews 9:27). And she lived out the number of days He ordained for her, “Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.” (Psalm 139:16).
I’ve talked so much about my Mom over the years, that even people who never met her, felt as though they knew her. And I have been asked a time or two, what I liked most about my Mom. I would have to answer with more than one “most”.
Maybe what I liked most about my Mom was her kind and affectionate ways. Maybe it was the way she loved my Dad and her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren unconditionally. Maybe it was that she never met a stranger or, as my brother Ron would say, that she had great empathy for people, even people she hardly knew.
Maybe what I liked most was the way she took care of my brothers and me, my father, and herself. Maybe it was that her sandwiches, even simple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, were the best tasting sandwiches anyone could make. Maybe it was that she had the ability to turn one kiss on the cheek into multiple kisses in rapid succession, while we’d all roll our eyes, complain it hurt our ears, even though we loved it!
Or maybe it was how she polished our shoes the old-fashioned way, and used Q-tips to clean the outside of our ears before we went off to school. Maybe it was that she made breakfast every day for my brothers and then sent us off with a bagged lunch – every single day of school we ever attended. Maybe what I liked most about my Mom was her ability to produce the best sentences for spelling words.
Maybe it was how she fixed her hair right before she went to the hairdresser. Or maybe it was how she always chose New York City Red nail polish. Maybe what I liked most about my Mom, was her gratitude and how she thanked her children every day for taking care of her. Or could it be how she said, “Thank you, Jesus” every time she took a step. Maybe it was how much she loved the Book of Psalms. Maybe it was how she lived longer than any medical professional predicted because her heart was so strong. Maybe it was that her heart was so strong because it was so full of the love she had for people.
You were the best Mom a daughter could ever wish for. I will cherish all of our memories and all the time we spent together watching the Game Show Network and the Phillies, and being together every day while I worked online and you did word puzzles like it was your full-time job. I struggled saying goodbye for now, but was so thankful that Ron, Rick, and I were there as you closed your eyes, breathed your last breath, and then opened your eyes in heaven where you are now breathing celestial air.
While I already miss Mom beyond measure, I rejoice that she is with Jesus, and reunited with “Mertzie”, her sweetheart. It may be “goodbye” for now, but one day soon, we will be with Mom and Dad once more, and we will have all eternity to never again say “The Vasso Goodbye”.
“13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. 14 For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.” – (I Thessalonians 4:13-14)