I attended church a few Sundays ago and listened to a sermon on how life on earth isn’t always Fair. The sermon was based upon a parable (Matthew 20: 1-16).  Much later that night,  for whatever reason, I decided to  google a former “Boss” I had in California whom I hadn’t heard from in a very long time. (Will anyone else reading this ever admit to googling random people late at night?) Shockingly, I came upon her archived obituary.  Sadly, she passed away over a year ago entirely unbeknownst to me. (I am still trying to contact a few of her family members so out of respect, I am keeping her identity private). Reading that my “Fomer Foreperson”/Boss died at  Fifty eight (58) years old seemed so incredibly unfair!

We had been in contact loosely over the many years despite the fact that we had both relocated from the Bay Area to other places in the country.   I remember letting her know that my daughter was diagnosed with cancer in 2008.  Once my own cancer journey began (unless a person stayed connected via CaringBridge or email) I was pretty much “out of commission” socially.  I don’t recall hearing anything from her after I had informed her of what had transpired with my daughter’s diagnosis.

I have Found it interesting how traumatic events distinguish time and have a way of distinguishing people.  A long time Friend once gave me the Following advice while recovering from sexual assault: “Pay close attention to how people act during this time.  You will see who they truly are, only magnified!”  I have discovered people under these circumstances typically either rally with support or Fade away.  Being consumed in my own cancer journey with my child for six years,  I also Faded away from some people.

Since Finding out about my Former boss’s death, I have reflected upon a quote from the 1983 movie, “The Big Chill”.  The movie’s character,  Nick,  said: “a long time ago we knew each other for a short period of time; you don’t know anything about me.”  For those of you who may not have seen this Film, the quote arises amidst conversations between old Friends who are gathered to memorialize their Friend who committed suicide.  Being so removed from my Former boss’s life and Finding out about her death a year later has caused me to regretfully acknowledge that perhaps the quote pertains to me, my Former boss and Friend and our “Faded” relationship.

I don’t want to accept that my Former “boss” was just someone I knew a long time ago for a short period of time.  My Fondness for her never diminished. Rather, proximity, Family and life’s commotion interfered with an ongoing Friendship.   I considered her more than my Former supervisor. Despite our having not seen each other in years, I always assumed I would see her again and pick up where we left off, so to speak.  I thought it would happen perhaps when the mayhem of raising kids was over and when I had an abundance of time and Freedom on my hands? Clearly, I am not yet at that juncture in life.

The next morning I payed a nominal Fee to have the archived obituary available to read on line.  From there, I deduced she succumbed to cancer’s deadly grip while leaving two grown children behind.  To date, I have no other details.

I Feel incredibly Forlorn and Full of sorrow.   What do I do with a death that leaves me Feeling so helpless and empty? I’m not proposing that death is ever comfortable, mind you. Yet, Finding out about her death a year later feels particularly perturbing to me.   I wish I would have known of her illness. I wish I could have had the opportunity to say goodbye. I wish I could have told her how much she meant to me.  As her protege,  I wish I could tell her she taught me EVERYTHING I knew about nursing management, how I still use her Format for writing meeting minutes, how I subsequently tried to emulate many of her “ways” in my professional life and much more.  While reading the memorial page someone had recounted and written about her 5 P’s philosophy: “Proper Planning Prevents Poor Performance”.  Upon re-reading them, I instantly remembered her Frequently reciting those 5 P’s.   This “Boss Lady” was a perfectionist like none other. She was the quintessential “old-school” nurse.   I was innately a lot lazier than she was, therefore working under her scrutiny was difficult at times.  Still, I adored, admired and respected her beyond measure.   She trained me well,  over the approximate Five year span I worked for her.   So well, that I eventually assumed her role as nurse manager when she decided to leave and obtain her master’s degree in nursing.

There is no shortage of memories of the time I spent with her.  Many memories have Flooded my mind over the last many days.  A couple of Favorite scenes are in the Forefront: Vivid moments  conversing while smoking on a certain roof deck of Alta Bates Hospital, the glorious, stunningly beautiful city of San Francisco and the surrounding Bay as our backdrop.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alta_Bates_Summit_Medical_Center

She’s laughing while recounting the oddities of the day (of which there were always many and could be singular blogs in spades).  While we are sitting outside, escaping from the renal/medical-surgical unit we worked on, a  dialysis patient or two are begging her to give them one of her cigarettes.  She compassionately and occasionally doled them out.  For goodness sakes, who was she to judge?  I’m not sure upper level hospital executives would have approved but what they didn’t know didn’t hurt them. (In my humble opinion).   The other scene? Away from the hospital where she’s still my mentor.  We’re sitting at an iconic bar near her Former place of residence.   The Persian Aub Zam Zam on Haight Street.  She Frequented this place back in her day, introduced me to it and to drinking martini’s therein.  For some reason, the FUN times we shared (not the work) seem most meaningful now.

I suppose there are many ways to memorialize a person.  I intend to make every effort to return to  the Persian Aub Zam Zam on 1633 Haight Street the next time I’m in SF. I won’t be smoking but I hope to be sitting at the bar, drinking a martini while recalling a superlative boss, mentor and Friend whom I will hold in my heart Forever. “The tables are all closed” (Only those who have visited the Persian Aub Zam Zam when Bruno was the bartender will understand that quote) for my friend at the bar on Haight Street.

http://sfstories.com/post/haight/index.003.shtml

Hopefully though, there’s a grander version in paradise that she’s sitting at now. Until I arrive at that destination,  I intend to remind myself AGAIN that life on earth can be incredibly short and seemingly unfair.

Despite my six years of contemplation via my own cancer journey, hearing of my Friend’s death has reinforced the belief that tomorrow or “someday when life calms down” is too late to let the people I care about know what I’ve learned from them, how much they mean to me and how much I love them!

I would LOVE to hear if anyone else has experienced Finding out about a loss and not being able to adequately express what you Feel to that person?  How do you/did you resolve your disconcerting Feelings?