Are We There Yet?
Saying goodbye may be a woman's thing
Lori Clinch

Much to my husband's dismay, I am a goodbye person.I feel it is important, when leaving a gathering, to bid farewell to those that we've shared time with. I like to tell others to take care, acquaintances that I'll see them soon, and the people that I love that I'll miss them terribly and can't wait until we meet again.å

I love nothing more than to round off an evening by gathering in a circle with friends, rehash the events of the evening and finish up with a heartfelt, "And a good time was had by all!"

Generally speaking, I leave social settings with a smile. I'm happy, I'm fulfilled and right up to the moment that I climb into the passenger seat and am met with an unflappable glare, I am downright happy.

"What have you been doing?" my beloved spouse will ask through clenched teeth.

"I was saying goodbye."

"For an hour?"

"It wasn't an hour, it was only 40 minutes and you're the one who always rushes to the car."

"Well, you work the crowd as if you're running for election."

"Well, do you think it would be better to be remembered as that great gal who was always the first one out the door?"

Quite frankly, I enjoy my goodbyes. I have my long goodbye, my short goodbye, my rushed goodbye and my own personal favorite - the parental goodbye, which consists of a quick kiss and a "Mommy loves!"

Then there's the kind of goodbye that I give to someone that I'm really happy to see go. Take, for example, the goodbye that I gave my former friend Estelle as she loaded up her hellions and liquored-up husband after a three-day extended stay. Now THAT was one happy and celebrated goodbye.

That being said, how do you suppose it is then that I, a wonderful goodbye gal, could produce a son who is prone to depart without so much as a farewell? Apparently, Vernon has decided to follow in his father's footsteps and hasn't learned to appreciate the value in a heartfelt goodbye. In fact, he has taken it one step further and has been known to leave with nary a wave.

Oh sure, he's going and I know that he's going, but is it too much to ask for a boy to appear at his mother's side, offer a quick peck on the cheek and say, "See ya!"?

Take the other day for instance. When I last saw Vernon, he was slipping out the door with a basketball to shoot a few hoops with his younger brother. Time passed, the clock ticked away the minutes, and when Lawrence stepped back inside an hour later, sans his brother, I asked, "Where's Vernon?"

"Oh, he left a long time ago."

"Vernon," I said when he answered his cell phone, "where are you?"

"What do you mean, 'where am I?' "

"Well," I replied with a bit of impatience, "where are you as in where did you go?"

"I'm at Max's house." He didn't exactly say "Duh," but I couldn't help but feel that his tone implied it.

"But you didn't say goodbye."

"What do you mean, I didn't say good-bye? Didn't you get the hint that I was leaving as I was walking out the door?"

Growing weary of his answering my inquiries with questions of his own, I decided to take the elementary route. "What I mean, Vernon, is that you didn't say goodbye. You're here one minute and gone the next. People say goodbye. It's our nature; it's the right thing to do. Saying goodbye is what separates us from the animals."

"That's what separates us from the animals?" he responded with faux surprise.

"It is."

"Because I thought it was intellect and opposing thumbs combined with our ability to walk upright."

I can't help but wonder if saying goodbye is a woman's thing. That if it weren't for the female gender, men would be leaving social settings all over the nation without so much as a word of departure.

I shudder to think.

Meanwhile, my husband thinks he has the answer to my long and extended farewells. At our last social outing, he turned to look at me before we walked in the door and said, "Start saying goodbye now."

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.