Recentemente, ouvi uma mãe e a sua filha nos seus últimos momentos juntos no aeroporto, quando a partida da filha tinha sido anunciada. De pé perto do portão de segurança, elas abraçaram-se e a mãe disse:
“Eu te amo e desejo-te o suficiente.”
A filha respondeu: “Mãe, as nossas vidas juntas tem sido mais do que suficiente. O teu amor é tudo que eu sempre precisei. Desejo-te o suficiente, também, mãe.” Elas beijaram-se e a filha partiu.
A mãe foi até à janela onde eu estava sentado. Parado ali, podia ver que ela queria e precisava de chorar. Tentei não me intrometer na sua privacidade, mas ela acolheu-me perguntando: “Já disse adeus a alguém sabendo que seria para sempre?” “Sim, já”, eu respondi. “Perdoe-me por perguntar, mas porque é que é um adeus para sempre?” “Bom, eu estou velha e ela mora tão longe. Tenho desafios pela frente e a realidade é que a próxima viagem de volta será para o meu funeral”, disse ela.
“Quando estava a se despedir, eu ouvi dizer: “Desejo-te o suficiente.” Posso perguntar o que é que isso significa?”
Ela começou a sorrir. “É um desejo que tem sido passado de outras gerações. Os meus pais costumavam dizer isso para todos.” Ela fez uma pausa e olhou para cima como se estivesse a tentar lembrar-se de detalhes e sorriu mais ainda.
“Quando dizemos ‘Desejo o suficiente’ estamos a desejar à outra pessoa que tenha uma vida cheia de coisas boas o suficiente para sustentá-las.” Em seguida, voltando-se para mim, ela partilhou o seguinte, recitando-o de memória:
“Desejo-te Sol o suficiente para manter as tuas atitudes brilhantes.
Desejo-te chuva o suficiente para apreciar o Sol mais ainda.
Desejo-te felicidade o suficiente para manter o teu espírito vivo.
Desejo-te pequenas dores o suficiente para que as menores alegrias na vida pareçam muito maiores.
Desejo-te que ganhes o suficiente para satisfazer os teus desejos.
Desejo-te que percas o suficiente, para apreciares tudo o que possuis.
Desejo-te que tenhas ‘olás’ o suficiente a acompanhar-te até o teu último adeus.”
Ela, então, começou a chorar e foi-se embora.
Dizem que levamos um minuto para encontrar uma pessoa especial. Uma hora para apreciá-las. Um dia para amá-las. E uma vida inteira para esquecê-las.
~ Jeremias 29:11
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Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter's departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said:
“I love you and I wish you enough.”
The daughter replied, “Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom.” They kissed and the daughter left.
The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?” “Yes, I have,” I replied. “Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?” “I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral,” she said.
“When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?”
She began to smile. “That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more.
“When we said ‘I wish you enough’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.” Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory,
“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough ‘hellos’ to get you through the final good-bye.”
She then began to cry and walked away.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person. An hour to appreciate them. A day to love them. And an entire life to forget them.
#
Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter's departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said:
“I love you and I wish you enough.”
The daughter replied, “Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom.” They kissed and the daughter left.
The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?” “Yes, I have,” I replied. “Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?” “I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral,” she said.
“When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?”
She began to smile. “That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more.
“When we said ‘I wish you enough’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them.” Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory,
“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough ‘hellos’ to get you through the final good-bye.”
She then began to cry and walked away.
They say it takes a minute to find a special person. An hour to appreciate them. A day to love them. And an entire life to forget them.
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