The First Goodbye, The Second Goodbye, The Third Goodbye

People say goodbye to their loved ones so often, but not all of the goodbyes are the same. Sometimes I don’t even realize I had already said goodbye, and sometimes I know it too well as part of a well-planned schedule.

It can come suddenly and you are not prepared to say goodbye.

It can come unconsciously, but you have already known that you are going to say goodbye.

It can definitely be going to happen, and I imagine too much about saying goodbye.

The First Goodbye

The first one was tricky. Actually, I am not sure if I am going to use past tense to talk about my first goodbye. The process of saying this goodbye seems to be endless. It’s not like giving big hugs and sharing tears on each others’ cheeks. The words are not even spoken. This goodbye is to my mother, who died when I was only five years old. There was a ceremony, a funeral, and several other traditional events, but I wasn't at all sure of the situation. A fact was thrown at me, and that was it. If there must be a specific moment of saying goodbye to my mom, that would be fifteen years later when I was twenty years old (I am twenty-three now), when our family went to pick up the bones from the tomb. There I saw her. I wouldn’t say I saw her lying down there peacefully, but at the moment, my mind wasn’t full of intensity but instead, peace. I finally got to speak the words, although I did that in my mind, and it was transferred into tears. Actually, I think we haven’t said goodbye yet, because there is no such thing between me and all of the memories: the everlasting goodbye.

The Second Goodbye

This was like a tragedy. It had all the materials that a Hollywood movie would love to have: the most popular scene for saying goodbye, LAX Airport; characters, sisters and the rest of the family; date: the end of summer 1991. Now the film is running; the whole family and I are ready to walk toward the departure gate. My elder sister is walking beside us, and suddenly she stops. I turn my head and see her standing there, looking smaller and smaller. I can’t believe she is not coming with us! Everything becomes slow motion; I turn around, let go of my dad’s hand, lift up my right foot and run toward my sister. The background music rises; here comes a crescendo; violins pull long bows before the rest of the orchestra joins in; cellos, basses, trombones and tubas grow thicker with the wind instruments strengthening the main atmosphere. The camera zooms in, captures both of our watery faces, my dad is grabbing my arms, and my Uncle George is grabbing my sister’s. I cry, and I scream. It sounds sharp enough as to make all the buildings collapse. Thunderstorms and lightning combine with heaving raindrops, the ceiling starts to fall apart, it crashes down and all of a sudden….Cut! Of course it didn’t happen that way. I came back home and couldn’t get used to the life without my sister for a long time. I knew this trip was going to end without her, I knew it was going to be, but until it really happened, I was right in the middle of this unbearable reality.

The Third Goodbye

I left my country and came to Chicago this July. My boyfriend was sad about my leaving him, my friend cried when she thought about saying goodbye to me, my dad became upset about saying goodbye: he just kept mentioning how dangerous the city was going to be, how expensive the tuition was going to be, and he didn’t mention how much he was going to miss me. During all the countdowns for the departure, when I saw them expressing those emotions, all my mind and body was as emotionless as a log. Was it because I had already prepared for saying goodbye, or was I pretending not to be as sentimental as I was? My friends asked me, where does the sentimental one go? Where is she? What have you done with her? Well, I told them, I am trying not to be that sentimental anymore. But was I pretending; was I trying to cover up my true feelings? Getting too emotional makes me feel tired easily, especially saying goodbyes is a pretty sensational thing to do. Am I preventing this emotional cause of a sensational moment?

Maybe it is a lesson to learn, as those written words in a book that teach you how to fall in love or, fall out of love that sells in Eslite or Borders. Those big and small goodbyes are like a well-structured seminar in a program of showing paths to become a professional “goodbyenist.” Just follow the instructions, and you won’t get lost in the sentimental castle.

However, my rational, emotionless goodbye has been giving me strong aftereffects. It is like a terrible hangover after drinking one beer, one screwdriver and two shots of tequila in the two hours before dawn. All the emotions sneak into my skin, especially every time I crawl into my bed, which is placed in a mezzanine of a kitchen, besides a doorway, above a bathroom, an awkward place for my sleeping area. When I lie down on my bed with my eyes wide open, staring into the darkness, I start to see precious things from my visual memories. During all the preparation for this rational goodbye, the rational me persuaded myself not to be emotional or sorrowful. I even convinced myself not to bring too many things, such as the pretty red high heels that I never wore before, the retro style dress I wore to my graduation party, the poster of The Wayward Cloud autographed by Tzai Ming-Liang . I even looked through my luggage and boxes several times, trying to find those items I imagined taking along with me to the States. Often I ended up sitting in front of empty luggage and a pile of unwrapped boxes, feeling terribly sad.

It doesn’t make any sense at all. What I have prepared for such a long time has given me a stronger payback.

A friend once asked me this question: “ If a baby was born to know that falling on the ground was going to hurt, he or she would never learn how to walk, right?” “And if a person knew that falling in love would hurt, then he or she would never learn how to love, right?” I find myself standing in front of all the signals and signs that are telling me if you did something and it would cause you this and that, if you didn’t do something it would cause you that and this, and I realize that all the experiences make me stuck in the middle of the known world and too afraid to take any step forward.



One day I was looking for another pair of shoes in a pile of boxes. In between the crumpled newspaper wraps and the other unwrapped shoes that had fallen out from the top of another box, I saw a slice of red sparkling in the back of the mess. They were the red heels.

Maybe a person should improve themselves by learning or getting knowledge from experiences, but in some cases, it is ok to relax and follow one’s instinct. If learning is only to prevent something worse or decrease the encouragement of taking risks from merely showing one’s true feelings, I would rather be a sentimental kiddo.