Waits and Measures

Word is going around my professional world that we lost a colleague and friend today in a most unfortunate accident.  She was 42 – my age.  It is shocking, to put it mildly.

I’ve known this woman for about 8 years.  Once upon a time we even served in the same division although we were in very different positions.  She was always someone I’d want to stop and visit with if I walked past her office.  She was sassy, a bit irreverent.  You know, fun.  She was an amazing woman – a single mom to 2 girls who seemed to be able to do it all.  She bought a house on her own.  She made sure her girls got into the best possible schools in this town – no mean feat.  There was tennis camp every summer.  She always did it without seeming stressed.  She did it by herself.  She did have a significant other – he may have even been a fiancé – but she wasn’t about to move and disrupt her kids’ schooling.

Over the past several years, we both moved to different positions within the agency, moved to different floors.  But we would always stop and speak to each other when we saw each other in passing.  I would always walk away with a smile on my face, often giggling because of some wonderfully inappropriate comment she had made.  I’m sad that there won’t be more of those moments.

And her girls… Now without their glorious mother.  I can’t imagine their sense of loss and absolute sadness right now and for a long time to come.

I don’t do death well.  I’m not religious.  I don’t entirely understand funerals.  They say they’re more for the living than the deceased, but they’ve never done anything for me but make me intensely uncomfortable.  I suppose I would rather use my own memories to celebrate someone.

All that said, this is one of those times when I’m reminded that this is all very ephemeral – we are not promised anything.  In this woman’s memory, I’m going to try to be better about being more present, more available, more connected.  When it’s all said and done, these connections are what’s important – not vacations or houses or stuff.  And time is limited.

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Waits and Measures

  1. ksbeth says:

    so sad and what an important reminder to us all –

  2. raphaela99 says:

    I am so sorry to hear this sad news. X

  3. Uggh, that is my age too (well 43, but close enough). I hate when I get reminders like that when we see how short life can be. Hopefully her kids will be okay.

  4. 1) not to denounce such a serious post but, I love a good pun and you do it well! 2) I, also, will be 42 this year and it is a sobering thought. I’ve been watching Party of Five (that old tv show, because I never saw it the first time around) and it is a fairly realistic portrait of a family who loses a parent when they are relatively young. So sad. Funerals are a bit odd, but they are for the living. Closure, if you will. My father passed when I was 9 and I still feel a sense of loss for not attending the funeral (it was decided we were too young)

    • larva225 says:

      Thank you for your kind words. I’ve been fortunate not to have attended too many funerals so far – no more than 7 or 8 – and none for someone as close as a parent. Maybe I will feel differently when that happens. Thus far I’ve found greater comfort and closure having a drink or two and telling stories about the person. Not always appropriate, mind you.

  5. joey says:

    Sad and yes, a bit scary. Now is all we have. I’m sorry for your loss. It will be sad for you, not getting that much-needed smile. My heart goes out to her kids.

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