Kiss Your Wife
Goodbye
August 5, 2002
In a tiny, 20-by-50-foot air pocket, 24 stories
below the ground--nine miners huddled in frigid water--praying
for their lives. In a cavern so dark they couldn't see their
hand in front of their face, the men passed the hours snuggled
close to each other, and reminiscing about their families. At
one point, when it seemed they wouldn't be rescued, Blaine
Mayhugh, a 31-year old miner, suggested they all write a final
note on a piece of cardboard. After each man penned an
expression of love, they placed their note in a bucket and
sealed it shut. That bucket, containing the final words of the
miners, is still sealed. They said it would never be opened. "We
wrote those notes to be read after we died. And we didn't die,"
one of them said.
Later, during a nationally televised interview,
Blaine Mayhugh sat with his wife at his side and reflected on
the ordeal. "I thought, this is it. I knew I was facing death.
My father-in-law tied us all together so we wouldn't float away
from each other."
And then Mayhugh said something that shook me to
the core. "It was the only day in my life I never kissed my wife
goodbye before I went to work." Chocking back tears, the
tough-as-nails-miner said, "That had to be the day."
Blaine climbed out of the rescue pod knowing two
things for sure. He would never enter the bowels of the earth to
mine coal, and he would never leave home without kissing his
wife goodbye.
I've thought a lot about Blaine's words. I
reflected on the day my dad died last December. The last words I
spoke to him were, "I love you, dad. I'll see you tonight." And
amazingly, his last words were an expression of love to me."
I have three sons. Ryan lives with his wife Serene
in Philadelphia. Paul currently lives in D.C. and David lives in
downtown Portland. Hardly a day passes without a call in which
we tell each other about our day. And then I say, "I love you."
Every day, I try to tell Cindy, "You're gorgeous, and I love
you."
It would be easy to go a day without expressing
love to my family. What's a day? It's only 24 hours. So I skip a
day--no big deal. And then Blaine's words echo in my mind--"It
was the only day in my life I never kissed my wife goodbye
before I went to work."
Life is fragile. The psalmist tells us God has
numbered our days. He alone knows when any of us, our wives or
children will die. And God isn't telling. It's his secret. Most
of us don't give a lot of thought to dying. We know our day will
come, but figure it won't arrive any time soon.
But perhaps we should consider the fact that some
of us will die an untimely death. We won't see it coming.
Perhaps with that truth in mind we should ask ourselves, "What
do I want my final words to my wife or kids to be?" If I found
myself in a plane headed down or trapped in a mine I would want
to know, I kissed Cindy goodbye. I told her how much she means
to me. My boys know their dad loves them.
As Mighty Men we've made a commitment to express love to our
families on a daily basis. Let's learn a lesson from a tough
miner--let's express love to our families every day, one day at
a time.
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