Faith | In loss there’s gratitude for gifts left behind-a legacy

This article is composed in memory of my longtime dear friend and former colleague.

I write as part of grieving my loss of “Sam” (not their real name) and because to the best of my knowledge there was no obituary or funeral to allow others to pay their respects to a wonderful and remarkable person. That said, amid my reflection learning can occur.

I met Sam at work back in the day when the institution was much smaller, with a greater sense of community and connection. It’s funny: we were different in as many ways as two people can be. For just one example, we could not see eye to eye ... due to a height discrepancy!

But despite our dissimilarities — actually because of them —we cooperated and collaborated on a daily basis, each trusting and gleaning from the other for their expertise and experience. As a result, I learned the sum of our relationship was greater than the respective parts: a true gestalt!

One grace-gift was the insistence on proper greetings when encountering the other each morning; on a daily basis to not take the other for granted.

Thus, when I would see Sam and promptly launch into whatever was on my mind, they would turn their chair, look me in the eye, put up a hand to stop my verbosity, and say warmly and calmly, “Good morning, Tim. How are you today? How’s your family?”

In this most simple of ways, I was invited to first be seen and greeted as a person, to first see and greet a person, and thus to pause my agenda in order to be present and aware. I learned that when people are deficient in seeing and treating others as somebodies and not mere objects, mutual respect enhances our humanity.

Another silly-but-serious quirk, er, gift of Sam’s was at the beginning of yet another project together: to stop the initial banter of ideas and declare that we needed a binder before proceeding. With a mutual chuckle, a new three-ring binder was produced, the title page created and slipped into the cover sleeve, and only then would the work commence.

I learned the value of being organized while celebrating another chance to work together as we thought, teased, wondered, and supported each other along the way.

Sam’s final gift may seem like a contradiction, but makes sense in the larger scheme of things. Our working and laughing together during the week was strengthened by being apart on the weekends.

Leading separate lives, we did not socialize or play or worship together. Thus I learned that differentiation enhances connection; autonomy enhances community.

After retirement, I regret we rarely saw each other. In fact, as noted in the opening words, my friend died, months ago, and I just found out. Feelings of sadness are tempered by gratitude — yet another vital lesson!

Requiescat in pace, friend, rest in peace.