Every Farewell should be a Memento Mori
I have written about the Power of Hellos. This is about the second half of that equation, and arguably the more important… Goodbyes.
Goodbyes have always had a great significance to me. Perhaps partly as a result of my old world foreign family traditions, but I believe it is mostly a result of something that lives in our hearts, deep down in everyone’s soul, something simply human. Something all of us need to receive and need to share.
Over the years I have reluctantly watched as goodbyes lost most of their sincerity, love and value, as well as any true appreciation for life and its fragility, becoming simply routines.
Goodbyes are important. They aren’t some passing gesture to conclude a moment of meeting. They are a tiny ritual that could mark a final encounter. We should take them more seriously.
Every goodbye is a Memento Mori. Memento Mori is a primary element of Stoic philosophy, often translated as “remember you will die”. The Romans propagated the concept to ensure victorious generals and powerful leaders remained humble by reminding them of their mortality, that their end could come at any moment.
I see the connection between Memento Mori and goodbyes in the fact that we may never see each other again. I may disappear, you may disappear. The very little energy a proper goodbye requires to demonstrate gratitude, love, tenderness and value is abundantly worth it. If you are familiar with Stoicism or follow any modern day self-help mindfulness, then saying a proper goodbye should be the foundation of your existence.
I believe that a key part of a good goodbye is a desire for the moment never to end. We will go on and meet other people we love, experience other happy moments, other places that provide safety and security, but each time we leave one of those behind should be a moment we reflect and cherish them.
Goodbye is also a powerful tool to express love and appreciation. Looking back repeatedly as you part, waving, crying and doing one final frantic farewell flutter, hopping and smiling until the very last minute… These are all performative nonverbal expressions of deep love, sincere gratitude and longing. Embarrassment and societal expectations disappear, supplanted by a powerful human emotion. The receiver of a good goodbye feels warmth, worth and love. A well executed goodbye can make someone feel that something almost transcendental is happening, something very difficult to describe and very powerful.
Towards the end of a dinner party, whenever a guest departs, my wife and I stand outside the house as they walk to their car. Wave and thank them for coming as they approach the car. Wave after they enter and settle in the car. Inevitably the windows roll down, a couple quick taps of the horn sound off and hands and arms continue to wave until the car disappears down the street.
Now we could just do the more common thing, wish them well, let them out and shut the door behind them, but doesn’t that strike you as a bit “Thank god that’s over! I’m so glad they’re gone!”? Whereas my suggested form of goodbye says something more akin to “I am so glad we got together. It was such a pleasure. I don’t want us to part. I can’t wait to see you again.” Which of the two would you rather experience?
In my lifetime I’ve seen some of the kindness that used to be part of our everyday lives replaced with a cold flippant nonchalance that I truly don’t believe is good for any of us. I know the lengthy ceremonial goodbyes at the airport, crying, hugging and waving seem like overkill to some. I know taking three cars to the airport with everyone in tow to say goodbye might seem a little ridiculous. I know standing out in the cold watching your guests leave and repeatedly thanking them, waving and saying goodbye until they disappear seems a bit ludicrous.
In the past, people did all these things without a second thought. It was natural, it was done without hesitation, it was part of life. They had a better understanding of Memento Mori even if they hadn’t ever heard of the term. I for one will continue these old traditions, not just because I love them and believe they make everyone feel just a tiny bit better, but also because I believe if people made a proper goodbye a regular habit, it would make the world a slightly better place.
Several decades ago my little brother died suddenly at the age of 13. An event none of us at the time could predict or prepare for. Afterwards I tried but couldn’t remember our goodbye. I assumed it was a gruff, tough, boyish brother goodbye. We were both young, and we had no clue of the true devastations life could throw our way.
Everyday, I deeply regret not having taken advantage of that last moment we had together, our last goodbye. That little life lesson taught me to treat every goodbye like it was the last time we would ever see each other.
One day it will be.
If you enjoyed this you will also enjoy these:
The Importance of Goodbye II… French Style…
Renato Passalacqua 