Wednesday, January 09, 2008


So my favorite boss in this vacuum of an office, the one who reminds me quite a bit of Dad, went home from work last Wednesday to find that his perfectly healthy 54-year-old wife had passed away. We drones didn't hear anything more than that, so the assumption is aneurysm or stroke. I heard that and all I could think was, my god, at least with Dad, we were given 36 hours to get used to the idea. She was a perfectly nice lady whom I'd trained to work QC remotely; she leaves behind Joel, a grown daughter, and assorted family.

Can't think about this too hard, because it sets my brain in a's hard enough to think about the drunk driver that could take you while you're heading to the store for milk; that at least is a cause-and-effect kind of thing, but for God to reach down and pluck you from the fold so's rubber room material. But I certainly empathize with Joel, so I slid a sympathy card under his office door the other day. He's coming back to work pretty quickly, half day here, half day there; probably keeping him sane.

Today mid-morning, I'm typing away on Mods and suddenly feel two hands on my shoulders. He leans down to thank me and I reach a hand up for a quick awkward hug. As quickly as he appears, he's heading back down the aisle, and it's a good thing because I surprised myself by tearing up, and as I'm catching my breath and regaining control I realize why: our hug was very similar to what I felt on Samhain night with Dad. My missing him flared up anew, but instead of being accompanied by anger at the loss, there's this bittersweet feeling. And I'm glad, because the anger is such a draining emotion.

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