For the second time in a month, I received news of loss of another ex-work colleague… This seemingly out of the blue scenario has hit me unexpectedly hard as I’d worked closely with both of them over the years.
Strangely, we weren’t super close when we worked together but we had a number of shared experiences and roles that were intertwined and interconnected.
A part of it is that his kids are a similar age to Zach and Sam which brings this particular passing into sharp focus…
Perhaps it’s because I was unprepared for the news, but to be honest it’s more than that, it’s about reflecting on our mortality and the fragility of life that has brought me to this place of contemplation. Loss is never easy, even if you haven’t seen the other person for some time, it’s still confronting.
I guess we’re never fully prepared or expect to lose someone from our lives, nor hear about a friend or work colleague that passes away, but as we age it happens more often.
Given that we’re at a time in our lives when this will begin to repeat itself it doesn’t make it easier to adjust.
The reality is that there are no guarantees to the length of our lives, nor the quality of life. I learned this harsh lesson with the passing of both my mum and dad. Albeit my mum had been sick for several years before she died but it still came as an enormous shock when it happened.
As for my dad, his brain cancer diagnosis ended after a six-month battle. At the time I was shocked that he went from a healthy and active working man to a cancer patient who lost half his body weight before falling into a coma and passing.
At the time of his diagnosis, I realized that we’re all healthy and vibrant until the day, we’re not and then after that all bets are off. His decline was fast, even after an 8-hour operation, followed by chemotherapy and radiation – we had six-months, of which about four-months he had a reasonable quality of life.
The end came fast…
I still remember vividly arriving at the hospital and being directed to the hospice room with my siblings late on a Friday night, where we sat by his bedside and reminisced about stories about dad from our childhood. As we arrived the nurse told us it would only be a matter of minutes given his breathing…
But dad, being dad was a stubborn man and he rebounded, although still in a coma he remained alive until the following Tuesday afternoon.
Fortunately for me I was by his bedside when he took his final breath… but the profound sense of loss was still overwhelming no matter how much you try and prepare yourself emotionally for the inevitable.
Over the years I’ve lost a few close friends and several work colleagues which is often not regarded as real loss nor that there should be any associated grief – but this isn’t true. Well, at least for me anyway.
I think that each time we lose a friend or acquaintance a little piece of us, or the memory or our friendship disappear and the moments or shared experiences are gone forever.
Clearly, not all loss is created equal, but irrespective of the magnitude of the relationship these moments always have an impact. Indeed, they all hit us individually and a little differently based on our shared history and relationship.
Perhaps it’s the stability and predictability of our relationships with others that are important to us, and with any change or break in this sense of continuity it forces us to confront our own mortality, and loss of stability in some ways, thus triggering our grief.
Now I’m beginning to contemplate an acceleration of this type of loss buttressed up against my own personal sense of mortality.
Age doesn’t seem to play a part in the overall equation of our life expectancy, so it makes me more determined than ever to live life to the fullest.
Take that holiday, buy that gift for yourself, splurge a little and most of all don’t have any regrets for the life you’re living as there are no guarantees nor timelines.
Easier said than done but trust me I’m going to do my best to continue to strive for this type of life.
Until next week.
Ciao.