A Very, Very Long Week...

 It's Friday, the traditional end of the work week. Most people love Fridays...it's their favorite day. Like everyone else who works "traditional" schedules, my work week ended, too...

And it was one of the longest work weeks of my life.

The problem wasn't the work itself. As far as that goes, it was normal, or as normal as things go with my particular job. I had a few unusual cases. "Unusual" makes my job a little harder. With most things, when situations arise that are out of the ordinary, it's like throwing a stick into the front wheel of an already-moving bicycle. It messes things up.

No, it wasn't the work that caused this week to feel longer than it was. No, it was something personal, something that changed at work...a change that cannot be reversed.

Our team got some bad news a week ago today. I returned to work Monday and tried to do my job as well as I could. I managed the cases, budgeted my time, and cleared the work, but as soon as I got in a rhythm, those thoughts I tried keeping in my subconscious crept into my conscious and a wave of sadness washed over me, throwing me off and forcing me to remember...

To remember.

Grief is a strange animal. It's like a ghost...something you can't touch, but you know it's there, and when you're at a point where you think you can confront the ghost, reason with it, maybe even bring resolution to the situation, the ghost disappears and for a fleeting moment, you think you've won.

Then, the ghost reappears, again, and again, and again.

This week, I did my job, but those thoughts returned. When I logged off for the last time this week, it was like I had run a long race and I could finally stop. 

In two days and two three nights, I'll wake to my alarm, sit at my desk, and log in to my computer. I'll open all the programs, the screens that allow me to do my job. Maybe next week won't be a long, or feel as long. That's my hope, anyway. 

As with all things, time will tell.

Darren...One Of The Best

 They tried reaching me this morning, but didn't know how, since I do not work Fridays. They got emy team together on a group call and delivered the news...our boss, our supervisor and friend died. Heart attack. I got the news from a friend.

I'm gutted.

There are people in your life placed there for a reason, people who you seem to draw more from them than you can ever give back. These people...they're stabilizers, a solid foundation when all around you life is unsure, crazy, and even terrifying. And as you age and the troubles from yesterday end and even bigger troubles appear on the horizon, those people...those rock-steady people always seem to be there, always willing to talk, to listen, to smile back when you answer their question of, "how are things going?"

When you find those people, they don't just leave an impression...they touch your soul. They become something more than a co-worker, a friend.

And when they're gone, everything that once seemed solid disappears like waking up from a dream and what you thought existed only moments before, may have never existed after all.

My boss and I started with the organization the same year. I'm six month younger than him. He was my boss for more than a decade. Before moving to his team, I was a supervisor, different department, but same level, and I was constantly surprised at how well he did his job. Usually, someone who excels at that level gets promoted, but he didn't seem to want to move up. He liked where he was, liked the interaction between management and the front-line workers. I always respected that, and I understood it, too. When you first start, you want to climb that ladder as fast as you can and those that do, sometimes leave broken relationships in their wake. No, he was different, and I'm not alone in thinking how lucky those on his team were because he was our boss and no matter how crappy the job, we knew he had our backs.

On Tuesday, he and I chatted for our monthly one-on-one meeting. He met with everyone on the team for an hour each month. A few years ago he and I go the idea that instead of always meeting on screens, we'd meet for lunch. Since he and I work five counties from each other, we'd meet somewhere in the middle. The last time was last fall. On our monthly zoom meetings we'd always say we needed to continue the in-person lunches. On the last call we talked about work, about college sports--he's one of the biggest (and best...) BYU fans I've ever met, and when either BYU or Utah beat the other team, both he and I were magnanimous, no matter the outcome.

The news broke hours ago. I'm still numb. We used to joke about retirement and how long we both thought we'd work. We could talk sports, comic cons, work, missions, losing parents, even adoption. And I was just one of his team...everyone had that kind of relationship with the man. He was the best boss I've ever had, and an even better person. When you lose someone like that, there's a void that can never truly be filled, a hurt that can never fully be healed. 

We lost a good one...one of the best. I'm forever blessed to know him and to call him friend. God's speed, Darren...until we can have that next in-person one-on-one.

When A Friend Passes...The World Is Not The Same

 Last night, after posting pictures and blogs, I remained on social media, something I usually do most nights. A story caught my attention. An Ogden Utah man was killed in a motorcycle accident. I thought it was strange someone was riding his bike at night in the middle of a northern Utah winter.

Then the story left my mind...

Until this morning, when after church my wife told me the man who lost his life was a family friend.

When news like this hits, it shakes your world, weakens your foundation, hurts your soul. We've known this man's family for decades. We first met the family when they had two children, just like us. They lived in our neighborhood and we both lived in basement apartments. Even though both families have moved over the years, we've stayed close. My wife and the man's mom chat together, their phone calls sometimes lasting hours. We know what is happening with their children, and they ours. We've laughed together, prayed together, and now, mourn together.

Their son was their oldest, married, living away from home. He worked hard, a blue-collar man who loved engines, especially when surrounded by muscle cars and beautiful bikes. Whenever I interacted with him, his smile was infectious. He was a big bear of a man, but that smile burned bright.

There is but one undeniable truth upon which all can agree (or should agree...). That truth is, if you're born you must one day die. The body that gives life will one one day stop living, stop growing, stop loving. Just as a sunrise guarantees a sunset. But, looking at it differently, a sunset guarantees a sunrise.

The sun will rise tomorrow, just as it did this morning where the earth had one less person able to see it. Left behind are those with broken hearts that will never fully mend.