“How lucky I am to have something 
that makes saying goodbye so hard.” 
~ A. A. Milne

I know neither where Joe was going, nor where he was coming from. What I do know is that something unexpected occurred. Joe was involved in a traffic accident which left him on life support at Valley Medical Center in San José for one week. At the end of that week, at the recommendation of Joe’s medical team, his family made the painful decision to withdraw life support. There was no hope of recovery.

I’ve been thinking about Joe for the past few days. The day of the accident was, more than likely, quite a normal one. He went about his business doing whatever he did from day to day. When he left home earlier in the day, he probably said goodbye to his wife and daughter, never knowing it would be the final goodbye.

I’ve also been thinking about Joe’s wife, Thuy, and his daughter, Vivian, for the past few days. They, like Joe, were more than likely going about their business doing whatever they do from day to day. When they said goodbye to their husband and father earlier in the day, they could not have known it would be for the last time. 

Goodbyes are like that. Most of us assume that saying goodbye to a loved one is “Goodbye for now. I’ll see you later.” Every now and then, however, we are reminded that any goodbye has the potential of being the final goodbye.

Growing up as the son of a San Francisco firefighter, I never truly recognized that saying goodbye to my Dad as he left home for his next 24-hour shift at the fire station might possibly be the final goodbye. Only in retrospect do I acknowledge that the risks to which he was exposed on each shift could have resulted in his death. When he did pass away, on July 31, 2008, I had no way of knowing that the goodbye I said to him on the phone at 6:30 p.m. that evening would be the final goodbye.

During the time my mother was in hospice care, we knew that her death was imminent. For this reason, I was fully aware that each day’s goodbye might be the last. Finally, one day it was. 

I mention all this as a reminder to myself, and to anyone reading this article, that life is precarious. We just never know when our life, or the life of a loved one, will end. For this reason, perhaps I should be a bit more conscientious in my goodbyes, acknowledging that any one of them could be a final goodbye.

Go Fund Me page for Joe’s family: 
https://www.gofundme.com/f/dung-joe-nguyen