Bonds That Defy Time: Letters, Legacies, and Living with "Enough"

Can love truly survive death? In celebration of America’s 250th birthday, this episode of Everyone Dies explores the enduring power of remembrance, devotion, and profound farewells across generations. https://bit.ly/4vJJAyh

In this episode, we discuss:

• The Legacy of "Enough": A touching airport goodbye between a father and daughter that reveals a beautiful, intergenerational blessing for a meaningful life. 
• Letters from the Frontline: The deathless Civil War love letter of Major Sullivan Ballou to his wife, Sarah, written just days before the First Battle of Bull Run. 
• National Healing & Hope: How Abraham Lincoln’s call to "bind up the nation's wounds" and Emma Lazarus’s iconic poem The New Colossus re-framed national grief into an endless welcome. 
• Continuing Bonds: How those navigating hospice, palliative care, or grief can maintain deep, lasting connections with those they have lost through values, traditions, and story. 

Read the full blog post, get the recipe, and get resources at: www.every1dies.org

Every day is a gift. And we wish you enough. 

#IWishYouEnough #GenerationalWisdom #FinalBlessings #GriefAndBereavement #LoveLetters #AmericanHistory #GriefSupport #FamilyLegacy  #CivilWarHistory #EveryoneDiesPodcast 

Timestamps:

00:00 - Intro: The Enduring Power of Love
01:19 - Recipe of the Week: Pulled Pork Sliders
02:05 - I Wish You Enough - An Aging Father's Last Wishes for His Daughter
05:05 - Love and Duty on the Frontlines of the Civil War - Sullivan and Sarah Ballou
08:13 - The Reality of the Battle of Bull Run
10:09 - A Grieving Widow and Sullivan's Comforting Last Words
11:59 - Emma Lazarus’s Iconic 1883 Poem, "The New Colossus"
13:01 - Outro with Words from Mark Twain

Transcript

Hello and welcome to Everyone Dies. Relax and settle in for our podcast about serious illness, dying, death, and bereavement. Because even though everyone dies, no one must face it unprepared.

In this episode, we are celebrating America's 250th birthday with a look at never-ending love. There's the love between a father and his daughter, a husband and wife, and an immigrant in their country. I'm Marianne Matzo, a nurse practitioner, and I used my experience from working as a nurse for 47 years to help answer your questions about what happens at the end of life.

And I'm Charlie Navarrette, an actor in New York City, and here to offer an every-person viewpoint to our podcast. We're both here because we believe that the more you know, the better prepared you are to make difficult decisions. Remember, this podcast does not provide medical or legal advice.

Please listen to the complete disclosure at the end of the recording. In the first half, I have an essay about having enough in our recipe of the week. In the second half, Charlie takes us back to the Civil War from the Foundation for a Better Life.

And in our third half, I have a poem for our nation's birthday by Emma Lazarus. So happy 4th of July, everyone. I can't believe we're almost halfway through the year already.

Our recipe this week is equally comfortable at a funeral lunch or a barbecue. These pulled pork sliders are always an amazing appetizer option. The yummy glaze and delicious sprinkled seasonings on top of the buttery buns make this a recipe everyone will be begging for.

They're easy to put together, super tasty, and a definite crowd pleaser. Stay safe this holiday weekend. Stay hydrated, wear sunscreen, drink responsibly, and wear a life jacket.

Happy birthday, America. Recently overheard was a father and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure standing near the security gate.

They hugged and the father said, I love you and I wish you enough. The daughter replied, Dad, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever need.

I wish you enough, too, Dad. They kissed and the daughter left. The father walked over to the window where I was seated.

Standing there, I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever? Yes, I have, I replied. Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye? I am old and she lives so far away.

I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral, he said. When you were saying goodbye, I heard you say, I wish you enough. May I ask what that means? He began to smile.

That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone. He paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and he smiled even more.

When we said, I wish you enough, we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them. Then turning to me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory. I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting. I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest joys in life may appear bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final goodbye.

And then he began to cry and walked away. Please go to our webpage for this week's recipe and additional resources for this program. This is the part where we ask you for your financial support.

Your tax-deductible gift will go directly to supporting our non-profit journalism so that we can remain accessible to everyone. Can you donate? Go to www.everyonedies.org that's e-v-e-r-y the number one dies dot org or at our site on patreon under everyone dies. Charlie? Thanks Marianne.

For the first time in world history enlightened leaders were calling upon nations to end the evil of human bondage. The early 19th century saw anti-slavery movements boil over into conflict from skirmishes in Great Britain to its outlying colonies to all-out civil war in the young United States. In the mind of abolitionists the torment of slavery would bring about the wrath of God and a civilized people would never truly be free until all the inhabitants of the world were free.

The turmoil of conscience spread across the United States and fiery speeches ignited the rage of a population divided. Was slavery the divine order or was it the God-given right of all human beings to be free? Amid this tinderbox waiting for a flame was Sullivan Ballou, a 32-year-old attorney viewed as a rising star in the political world who believed strongly in the manifest freedom of all. He had a young family, a promising career and a conscience that would not be still.

In 1861 he said goodbye to his family saying to his wife If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for any country I am ready. I have no misgivings about or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged and my courage does not halt or falter and I am willing, perfectly willing, to lay down all my joys in this life to help maintain this government and to pay that debt. Sarah, my love for you is deathless.

It seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but omnipotence can break and yet my love of country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly on with all those chains to the battlefield. My dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you, nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battlefield it will whisper your name. Ballou was stationed at Bull Run, the first battle of the Civil War after the Confederate Army fired on Fort Sumter.

It was clear the Southern Army was going to be aggressive from the start yet few predicted a long battle. Abraham Lincoln, hoping for a quick end to the war, called upon all loyal citizens to favor, facilitate, and aid this effort to maintain the honor, the integrity, and the existence of our national union. Bull Run was expected mostly as pageantry between the two sides until the shooting began.

Picnickers watching from the hillside were horrified as bloody soldiers rushed toward them leaving mayhem and slaughter below. Neither side was militarily prepared and they certainly were not ready for the number of wounded that needed care. Major Ballou directed his troops toward a hill and was soon swept up into chaos.

He was being fired upon from all sides with many soldiers killed by friendly fire. He was struck in the leg by a cannonball and dragged to a makeshift surgeon's tent. Medical science of the day had not yet discovered germ theory and the hospital conditions were often more dangerous than bullets and cannonballs.

Days later, Major Ballou died in the hospital. The reality of the war fell upon the nation like a dark plague. Overcoming centuries of slavery would require the bloody sacrifice of over half a million soldiers and their families.

In his second inaugural address, Lincoln's reflections on the long war led him to the conclusion that the war was a sin to be paid for by both sides and finished with a call for peace. With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish as just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations. The words must have seen little consolation to Sarah, the grieving widow.

She never remarried and kept the flame of her love for Ballou alive until the day she died, keeping his words in her heart for 56 years. I shall always be near you in the garish day and the darkest night amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours, always, always. And if the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air cools your throbbing temples, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah, do not mourn me, dear. Think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again. Hmm.

I think we should go back to writing letters to each other. You know what? As I read this, I thought the same thing, too. Geez.

I mean, what are we going to save all of our instant messages and stuff like that? Nobody's going to want to read those. Oh, they're available, though. So it's not like they'll disappear.

I know, but who wants to read them? Yeah, I know. I know exactly what you mean. Yeah.

God. Wouldn't it be something to just once in your life receive a letter like that, you know? I have. It's been a long time.

But it's nice. And for our third half, we have a poem by Emma Lazarus, the New Colossus. Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, with conquering limbs astride from land to land.

Here, at our sea-washed sunset gates, shall stand a mighty woman with a torch, whose flame is the imprisoned lightning, and her name, Mother of Exiles. From her beaconed hand glows worldwide welcome, her mild eyes command the air-bridge harbor that twin cities frame. Keep ancient lands, you storied pomp, cries she with silent lips.

Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-lost to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

Please stay tuned for the continuing saga of Everyone Dies, and thank you for listening. You can find more episodes on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or your favorite podcast app. Follow and subscribe to the show.

Share it with someone today. This is Charlie Navarette, and from author Mark Twain, death, the only immortal who treats us all alike, whose pity and whose peace and whose refuge are for all, the soiled and the pure, the rich and the poor, the loved and the unloved. And I'm Marianne Masso.

We'll see you next week. Remember, every day is a gift, and I wish you enough. This podcast does not provide medical advice.

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