Gary Coal Man
Footballguy
I’m on the tail end of my two week vacation where I’ve been trying to live in the moment with my family rather than dealing with work, caring about social media, or posting on Footballguys. No offense or anything.
Late Monday night I saw that I had a new email notification on my work email account. I figured it would be regarding some mundane work BS, but I checked it anyway in case it was something important. I then stood there in shock. I couldn’t process what I was reading. I still can’t.
The email was to regrettably inform me that my coworker, easily my best friend at work who I’d spend hours talking to each day about our kids, life, and just dumb stuff, is dead.
She was about to embark on her own vacation with her family when she slumped over at the airport and never regained consciousness. She died of a ruptured brain aneurysm.
I’ve lost other people in my life. People who based on family relationship or total time spent with them were technically closer to me, but their deaths didn’t hit me as hard. Those deaths either involved people who were in my past or you could see the death coming based on their deteriorating condition. This death, however, came out of nowhere. It involved someone who is very much part of my daily life, and struck someone that appeared to be the pinnacle of health. Perhaps, most jarring, is that she was the female me. Same age, same job, similar personality, similar hobbies, similar family life. But she was a better person than me. A much better person.
She was only forty-five years old, but looked much younger and had a much younger spirit. She was a marathon runner, and was currently training for the upcoming Berlin marathon in September. And the thing that makes me most sad is that she leaves behind three kids aged 13, 11, and 8. I’m absolutely crushed for them. I’m absolutely crushed period.
This seems surreal. I’ve never experienced this feeling where my brain just wants to reject or can’t process the information it’s been fed.
I know that the saying that you should remind loved ones that you care for them and treat them like it may be the last time you ever see them sounds like trite, cliched BS, but it really is true.
Be excellent. She was.
Late Monday night I saw that I had a new email notification on my work email account. I figured it would be regarding some mundane work BS, but I checked it anyway in case it was something important. I then stood there in shock. I couldn’t process what I was reading. I still can’t.
The email was to regrettably inform me that my coworker, easily my best friend at work who I’d spend hours talking to each day about our kids, life, and just dumb stuff, is dead.
She was about to embark on her own vacation with her family when she slumped over at the airport and never regained consciousness. She died of a ruptured brain aneurysm.
I’ve lost other people in my life. People who based on family relationship or total time spent with them were technically closer to me, but their deaths didn’t hit me as hard. Those deaths either involved people who were in my past or you could see the death coming based on their deteriorating condition. This death, however, came out of nowhere. It involved someone who is very much part of my daily life, and struck someone that appeared to be the pinnacle of health. Perhaps, most jarring, is that she was the female me. Same age, same job, similar personality, similar hobbies, similar family life. But she was a better person than me. A much better person.
She was only forty-five years old, but looked much younger and had a much younger spirit. She was a marathon runner, and was currently training for the upcoming Berlin marathon in September. And the thing that makes me most sad is that she leaves behind three kids aged 13, 11, and 8. I’m absolutely crushed for them. I’m absolutely crushed period.
This seems surreal. I’ve never experienced this feeling where my brain just wants to reject or can’t process the information it’s been fed.
I know that the saying that you should remind loved ones that you care for them and treat them like it may be the last time you ever see them sounds like trite, cliched BS, but it really is true.
Be excellent. She was.
