When I was just a wee lad, we used to spend two weeks every summer in Orchard Park, NY, where my mom was born and raised and where she met my dad and they began dating. As my mom came from a good-sized family (3 sisters and 2 brothers) and many of them still lived there, it was always a lot of fun to visit as there were plenty of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents to hang out with. The end of the trip was always very predictable though – after all of the hugs had been hugged and goodbyes had been said, my sister and I would pile into the back of our Datsun station wagon with my parents up front and we would slowly make our way through town on our way home. It never took more than a mile or two though, for the tears to slowly start making their way down my mom’s face as we drove away. The first couple of times I noticed this (it was probably happening for a couple of years before I noticed – I apparently am not the most observant individual), I tried comforting her – being a fairly young age I was concerned why my mom was sad suddenly. As the years went on, however, and this scene repeated itself time after time, we began to kid my mom about it. “Oh here it comes!” we would say as her eyes once again began to well up. In between her tears she would laugh a little bit at herself while chiding us as well “Stop it. I can’t help it!”. As I continued to get older, I would tease her about this a bit more each time – never really going over the line but getting a kick over how she would cry at the tiniest goodbyes. It moved on from not just when we would leave Orchard Park, but when we were old enough and my sister and I would leave each break to go back to college. Or after we had graduated when we would leave at the end of the holidays to go back to where we were living at the time. And we would all kid her as we started the goodbyes and she would reply with her standard “Stop it! I can’t help it!”. Well, I bet she is having a good laugh herself these days at her formerly chuckling son.

Yup, these days I’m a card-carrying member of the “Boo Hoo Buddies” club. I’m not exactly sure when I signed up for membership in this club (my gut says my mom signed me without me knowing), but it must have been at a pretty early age. I have a vague recollection of the last time I hung out with my high school buddies before we all headed off to college and as we came to the final goodbye, someone said something to the effect of “No one get all emotional now.” And another one, who shall remain nameless but was called Jerry, pointed at me and said, “I’m just worried about this guy.”  So apparently, I’ve had these tendencies since at least the end of high school. Sadly (no pun intended), they have only progressed from there. Whether it be my own children heading back to college, watching old family videos or finding out that the bag of potato chips is empty, it doesn’t take much to get my eyes to watering. And there are my kids, having a grand ol’ chuckle at my expense (politely mind you, but still chuckling). Being the analytical type (ok, emotionally analytical type), I was curious as to how I went from the “chuckling kiddo” to the “boo-hoo buddy”. And I have a theory.

You see, I’ve come to understand that there was a big difference in the goodbyes that I was saying when I left Orchard Park as an 8-year-old versus the one that my mom was saying as a 38-year-old. By the time I was 8, I had invested a whopping 18 weeks in Orchard Park (between summer and Christmas visits). I had made some great memories, between the snowstorms, fishing on Lake Erie, a trip to Darrien Lake and many awesome adventures with my cousins.  But while I was sad to say goodbye to my family up there, I had not “invested” a large amount of my life. My goodbye “cost” was very low. My mom on the other hand, had invested a good bit more. She had grown up in the house we stayed in. She had 18 years of memories with her brothers and sisters in that house and in Orchard Park. Had graduated high school with all of her friends in Orchard Park. Met her husband in Orchard Park. Suffice it to say, the “cost” of her goodbye was a good bit higher than my own at the time. So my “theory” is – as we get older, the “cost” of our goodbyes inevitably goes up as we continue to “invest” more of our time and memories into whomever/whatever we have to say goodbye to. Yes, I know, that seems rather obvious. No one ever accused me of being Plato (or even Vizzini from The Princess Bride for that matter). But I like having a theory. It’s either that or, as Mrs. Chump says, “Maybe you are just an overly sappy wussy-boy.” Sigh. She has a way with words. And maybe a point.

My mom had a wonderful laugh that she shared with her friends and family quite often. Anyone who heard it could not help but join her in laughing in that moment. And I’m fairly certain that, on what would have been her 85^th birthday, she is having quite the laugh at her son who used to make fun of her for crying all the time knowing he is just as bad, if not worse, at goodbyes as she was. And while she did not drink often, she would enjoy an occasional glass of wine on the holidays, usually a Pinot Noir. So, in honor of her birthday, this week’s wine is “Laurene”, from Domaine Drouhin, an elegant Pinot Noir from Willamette, Oregon. Mrs. Chump and I first tried this wine on our previously mentioned trip (It’s Willamette, Dammit!) to Oregon and were instantly smitten on the first sip. The first sniff after swirling provides instant aromas dried rose petals, spiced vanilla and wild herbs and only gets better with the first taste. On the palette you will get dark cherries, some candied orange and toasted oak. It is elegant and silky and like a favorite memory, can last for quite a while. At a cost of $80, it is a beautiful bottle meant for beautiful occasions.

Goodbyes were never easy for my mom. These days I understand a bit better why. It was because of how full of a life she led. It makes me think, maybe hard goodbyes are a good thing. So cheers to you, Mom, and cheers to everyone reading this – may your life be full enough that some goodbyes are hard.

Wine Stat Sheet