Nov 09 2009
The Wave
I’m not sure where we got the idea. I think it’s probably from my Oregon family, because I know my cousins Jackie and Claudia do it, as did their parents. Anyway, wherever we got the idea, it’s become a standard operating procedure for us.
Everytime one of us leaves the house, we wave.
At first, I thought it was an “Oregon” thing, because my Oregon family all do it. But I’m pretty sure that’s not the case, because most people think we’re a bit loopy. Actually, most people think we’re a bit loopy anyway, but they think we’re particularly loopy about the wave.
Even if I’m in the middle of something important when Jessica leaves– and even if she’s just leaving to run to the store and come right back– I’ll stop what I’m doing and go to the door or to the window and wait for her to drive away… and wave. And when I leave, I always look back to the house and see her standing there and, just before I drive off or walk away, we wave.
It’s a really good feeling, surprisingly good, actually. And I can tell just how good it is by the very bad feelings I get when one of us very occasionally forgets. It’s like something is wrong, and will continue to be wrong, until we see each other again.
It’s hard to explain. The wave is like a final “I love you.” It’s like a sacred blessing. It’s like the knowledge that, whatever happens while she’s out there on her own, the last thing I did with my loved one was wish her a final bit of happiness. It’s our sacred ritual before we step foot on the road on our perilous journey.
I know it’s loopy.
I know that tripping down to Safeway to pick up some pasta for dinner is not exactly the voyage of Odysseus. But if we see every leaving as something of a voyage, then we get to see every leaving as a good excuse to wish each other all of our love, and our strength, and peace and good tidings. If we send each other off on every leaving with a farewell, then every leaving becomes a moment of togetherness.
And more than that, we get the opportunity to have a few sacred seconds of nothing. A few moments dedicated not to the stresses of life or the worries of the day, but simply to watching our beloved while they get into the car or walk away. A few moments to think about how much we love each other, and to realize that this 30 seconds where I can’t work because she’s adjusting the car seat is not time lost, but time gained. It’s gained because it gives me a few extra moments that otherwise wouldn’t be there. It’s a few extra moments to think about how much I love her, and to send her on her way with that love.
I know that she’s just going to work and it’s no big deal, but any trip might turn into the voyage of Odysseus. If this trip should be that fateful on, she’ll know that the moment of her leaving was spent in the eyes of her lover as he wrapped her in his blessing. She’ll know that she leaves on this journey with love, as she pulls away from the house and looks back to see me standing in the window watching her…
and we wave.
