A year ago I received an e-mail from a co-worker saying you left this world after a second round with ovarian cancer. I’ll be frank – the news felt like a huge slap in the face since everyone around me seemed to imply that things were rough, but it seemed like treatment was working out. Surprisingly I didn’t cry too much until I got home, watched The Fault in Our Stars, and cried myself to sleep.
Waterworks is an understatement for how I was at your memorial service. I’m not sure how much I cried but I reckon it was enough to fill a good sized bucket. A lot of the people we worked with seemed shocked that I cried so much but I had a feeling it had to do with the fact that it had been bottled up until then. Sadly, working a full week for 3 departments prior to the holiday season doesn’t give one a lot of time to pause and mourn properly, especially if your mind is distracted with meeting deadlines and delivering quality projects and results.
It’s hard to not drive past the El Super grocery store on the way to work without remembering the time we bought lunch and caught about things unrelated to work. You asked about my mom’s broken elbow and I was happy to announce that she managed to fully heal, courtesy of her determined, Elvis-loving therapist who kept her on a strict physical therapy schedule. I asked about your husband’s job and you said he was doing well and loved the area you moved to.
I kept telling myself that when I got a permanent position with our current company that you would be one of the first I would tell. You probably know about it, except…
I didn’t get to tell you in person.