Last Day

Fortunately I’ve never had to experience what the last day of life is (or have I? In a previous life?) but I have to imagine there’s some of the same feelings one has at the last day of a workplace.

Unfortunately, some people don’t have the privilege of knowing when their last day is going to come. Just as a car crash or freak accident can cut a previously undisturbed short, in my line of work the end can come at any time, and in some cases you don’t wake up knowing it’s your last day of work.

For me, I knew it was my last day of work; I’ve known for a week since I put in my notice. Much like how I would like to go in real life, I went out on my own terms, and fortunately I was allowed to do so. I woke up knowing how the day would go. I tried to cherish the last moments at a workplace even though I’ve been here for the better part of a year and have gotten somewhat tired of the same environment day in and day out. In another sense, though, the boredom represents a sense of safety, security, of predictability, knowing that I would have a place to call (not home but) my workplace every day, where I would be accepted among my peers and feel like a contributing part of society.

There is of course melancholy and sadness on the last day of a workplace, much as I’m sure a dying patient knows its their last day on Earth. There’s the reality of dying alone, where no one else is accompanying on the final journey, where you know there are people you will miss and never see again, or at least in the workplace’s case people you won’t see working in the same environment in the same capacity as a co-worker ever again. There’s the regret or agony of “what if I just stayed?” or “what if I just had a couple more days?” Despite all the boredom and monotony and being tired (from presumably being ill right before my death) I suspect there is a sense of want to live, to go back to the way things were and to hold on to that forever, of remorse about “where has all the time gone?” and “this is it.” One of my law school friends characterized in a brilliant way that emphasized the deceptive brevity of law school, which can also be applied to life: “Welp that was law school.”

I think the last day of life, more than the funeral when the said person can no longer participate, is a great time to celebrate the joyous times of the life that person led, which hopefully was full and vibrant and full of memories, yielding many conversation topics to talk about. It’s a day where hopefully celebration of old friends and new friends and hopefully friends for life is able to overshadow the anxiety of separation and closure. There’s the sound of laughter and camaraderie that I cherish more than any paycheck, the “Remember when?” stories that are rehashed and shared, the realization that everyone has gotten closer through the course of being together. It’s when of the best feelings of belonging and togetherness, kind of like the (spoiler alert! About to discuss a movie 17 years after it was released!) end scene of Titanic where Jack and Rose reunite in the center of the Titanic ballroom. Touching.

Ultimately, though, it really helps to know that this is not the end; it’s just the start of something new. There are of course differing opinions on the afterlife, but I tend to think of it this one: It didn’t kill me before this life (kind of paradoxical, so I’m going with it) so I’m not TOO afraid. One has to believe that there’s greener pastures ahead, more adventures to come, and that the best is yet to come. Looking at it that way, it’s not so bad, the end; it’s the ushering in of something new, and for me now, where I am moving on to another opportunity, it certainly feels like a positive change, that something else is out there waiting for me, even though this past life/ opportunity was very very good.

Btw, if you're ever having a "last day" at a basektball court or sporting facility, end your last time there with a swish or a made goal, something special to remember by. Half-court shot to end my collegiate court at the University of Illinois intermural basketball court? I'll remember that forever.

Fantasize on, and live on,

Robert Yan