Hollow

I speak to lots of people in the course of my day job. Sometimes our interactions are brief – a one off phone call; a quick email – and others I speak to almost every day. Since it’s work, a lot of my conversations are geared around actions and expectations: the other party wants something and I do my best to deliver it. Or I’m chasing something.

I do make time for people though and I like to think my chatty, conversational style makes me more approachable. A lot of business is so fast paced and pressured, the niceties aren’t always observed. I try to be an exception mostly.

Today I’m reminded how fleeting our time with other people can be; and how our paths may cross but we’re sometimes heading in different directions. Still, the ripples of those meetings can be felt long afterwards. We’re human. We feel and form relationships naturally. Some need a lot of care and attention, others just ‘click’ and endure, becoming ever closer, fulfilling and self-perpetuating.

I found out today that a colleague has taken their own life. We didn’t work together but i’d spoken to this person a lot over the summer and we met in person only a short few weeks ago.

I don’t know the whys or wherefores, but ultimately it doesn’t matter: Someone who touched my life has been ripped away and I’m left just feeling.. numb, helpless, reeling at the senselessness of a life cut short.

We didn’t really know each other, we were acquaintances, but every time we spoke we found a common humour and a little place of honesty and friendship of our own. I loved our conversations and felt the ripples long afterwards. Now, the bottom has fallen out. There’s a little less colour in the world.

Today I’m thankful for the people still around me. I consider myself truly blessed with my closest family and a handful of true friends. They bring real joy to my life and always pick me up and set me on the right path. I know they will always be there for me and they know I would do anything for them.

My heart goes out to my colleague’s family. To lose a loved one so tragically is unthinkable. There are no words. Really.

Rather than end on speculation and cliché  sentiment, I’d rather open the floor to positive thoughts. We’ve all lost someone: through illness or tragedy or old age. Below is a space to remember them.

I lost my Uncle to Cancer. Year’s later I wrote this sonnet to remember him. I still carry his picture with me every day, reminding me of some of the happiest times of my childhood.

Have you lost someone? How would you like us to remember them?

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