Cook County News Herald

Goodbye to the Long Goodbye





 

 

I’m weaning myself off the “Long Minnesota Goodbye” and believe me, it’s not easy.

All native-born Minnesotans know what I’m talking about. We never walk away from each other after only one goodbye. We’ve honed the art of leave-taking to the nth degree. In other words, Minnesotans never leave a social gathering when we say we will.

My first “long goodbye” experience took place as a child at holiday dinners hosted by friends of my parents. To the best of my memory, the conversation would go something like this.

My parents, pushing away from the dining table, would say “Well, time for us to go.”

I’d perk up. Yay. I’d get to go home. Too late to go skating but maybe I could still watch the “Ed Sullivan Show.” I’d start bolting from the table but would be stopped by the next statement.

Our hostess Millie would reply, “Oh, it’s way too soon. You can’t go yet. I’ll pour another cup of coffee.”

What did she mean, too soon? We’d been here for hours.

“Well…” my parents would concede and pull their chairs back to the table.

Hadn’t they already slurped down two cups?

After what seemed like an eternity, my parents started the whole thing again. “We really should go,” they’d say, standing up and leaving the table.

I would brighten as our hostess and her husband also stood. But Millie wasn’t done with us. “Wait.” She’d move away from the table. Was she going to the door? My mood cheered up but soon sank. No, she was heading for the kitchen. “I’ll wrap up some pie. I’ve got so much left-over.”

I’d run for my coat, but too soon. Another conversation concerning her pie crust recipe developed and seemed to go on forever.

Finally, declaring, “We really must go,” my parents would shrug into coats but continue talking. I must have chewed through at least five nail cuticles before my parents finally walked down the front sidewalk (with host and hostess following) and got in the car. After at least one more farewell, Dad hit the gas pedal, and we’d drive off.

Recently, in a phone conversation, I told my daughter of my attempt to stop doing the Long Minnesota Goodbye. We chuckled and vowed to shorten our farewell. Without success. After we finally ended the phone call, I texted: “We only said five goodbyes.”

She answered, “I can’t help myself.”

Last but not least I wish a Merry Christmas and Joyous New Year to readers and hope all your goodbyes are short and sweet.


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