The day after I wrote about my daughter and her move for her dream job, a favorite client of mine died. He died on his 72nd birthday, and it is quite a miracle that he lived that long. He had multiple, severe disabilities, and he was fairly healthy until the very end. I remember him from my interview, sixteen years ago. I’ve seen him just about every day that I’ve gone to work since then. He was special. They’re all special. He was extra special. And he’s not there anymore.
Shortly after that, a friend announced she is moving far, far away (whereas my daughter is only moving far away). I don’t think this is her dream job, but it’s her dream location to live. So that’s good. I really hope losses come in threes and that I’m done for a while now.
As I build up to these goodbyes I am also dealing with my work partner’s husband’s cancer. If he makes it through fine I’ll still have to face the fact that she’s ten years older than I am, and our working relationship won’t last forever. It will end one way or another. She stopped working with me one other time since we began and it was horribly difficult for me. At least for tomorrow, I expect she’ll still be there.
And yesterday I went out on a 12 step call off sorts. The sponsee of a sponsee was in bad shape, and I spent a good part of the day trying to help her. I’ll just say a beautiful, nice, smart, sweet young lady with a wicked story. Why does she want to add to it? I wish she could see herself the way we on the outside can see her. I talked to her after the meeting last night and even after the close call and awful time she’d had, I still heard resistance in her voice and I remember to be grateful, beyond measure, that I achieved some sobriety through Alcoholics Anonymous.
As I think of saying goodbye to these people (not the ones who are moving, I know it’s “see ya later,” just not as often and not as easily as before) I remember (sort of) when one of my grandfathers died, when I was drinking. The feelings and interactions got drowned in such a horrible sickness. These people dying and moving away hurts, but as long as I stay sober I know there will be a way out of the hurt, and new people to pay attention to here, now.