The original ‘goodbye’, dating from the 1570s, was godbwye – a contraction of the farewell phrase ‘God be with ye’. Saying goodbye; a casual farewell, au revoir, a parting from person or persons one may or may not see again or a deathbed farewell? Personally, I indulge daily in the first and as yet have been spared the last. (Both of my parents died in a care home, and I was only informed afterwards). Most, I suppose, fall somewhere in between.
At any parting of the ways, of whatever sort, it is possible to say too much or, worse possibly, not enough. I remember my last visit, as it turned out to be, to see a great aunt in her rambling old house in Rotherham, over 50 years ago now. I was sent upstairs to see Aunt Ethel, a lady into her 80s, was bed-ridden and lay in the gloom of her bedroom, lit by weak sunlight through a gap between the curtains – no artificial light. It was like an audience with the ageing Miss Havisham – lost in her past. Born before 1890, Ethel had lived all her days in this house, seen both younger brothers leave it for the Great War, never to return. In the garden stood large statues carved by her eccentric father. Tongue tied, a callow youth of 17 or so, rather than asking if I might read her brothers’ diaries and letters which I knew to be on her shelves I just exchanged pleasantries until I could make my shy escape. I remember thinking how, as I left the room, I was looking on this woman, flesh and blood link with a fascinating past, for the last time. I sense now that we both felt it. The moral of the tale perhaps; if you have questions to ask, then do ask them, before it is too late.
Saying goodbye can be bitter-sweet and has been captured in literature, fictional or otherwise, on film and in songs without number. So, putting a brave face on it, we have, from the First War ‘Good-by-ee, Good-bye-ee – Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee’ (1917). In the Second, support was given by Vera Lynn’s ‘We’ll Meet Again’ (1939). Further hope was offered by the same artist in the ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ (1942).
Final departures from this life have provided some classic last words of course. In 1936 King George V, before being dispatched by his physician, Lord Dawson, with two lethal injections (so he might die in time for the morning papers) is reported to have left us ‘Bugger Bognor’. Oscar Wilde, in 1900 left us with the lines: ‘My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death. One or other of us must go’.
As we have seen, there is, more often than not, a certain sadness in saying goodbye. But I do not wish to end this piece on a sad note – rather, as my more usual, I hope, playful self. Watching a recent stage production by the Peoples’ Theatre, Newcastle, of Noel Coward’s Brief Encounter, I was reminded of a sketch from the late 90s TV series ‘Goodness Gracious Me’. In the original the illicit lovers make stilted last farewells before their separate trains leave the station. In ‘Briefly Encountered’, the wonderful parody, the fond farewell is rudely interrupted by a chai (tea) vendor, a woman selling toy trumpets and balloons and then by a blind beggar. Finally, the heroine suggests she has a seat booked on the roof of the carriage (a very Indian mode of travel). The hero offers her a ‘leg up’! I strongly recommend the clip if you can find it.
In the late 60’s John Ebdon presented and commented on excerpts from the sound archives – a favourite of mine. Each week he would end his musings with the words ‘if you have been, thanks for listening’.
In my own case, after nine years of musings, I have decided to pull the plug on my stint as author of As I Please. If you have been … thanks for reading. So, that’s me, saying goodbye.