This past weekend we were provided with an assortment of reminders of the fragility of our lives. It all started Thursday evening when Dave came home from work. After almost forty years together, I can read his face pretty well so I knew something was “up” the minute he walked through the door. He said there had been a late afternoon conference call announcing the company’s plan to trim expenses by eliminating 10% of the upper management. (As any good gardener knows, the best way to prune is from the top down.) All affected parties would be notified by 11:00 on Monday.
Dave was reasonably certain his job would not be cut. Based on the criteria provided, he was fulfilling the requirements the company expected. While I didn’t doubt that, I am wise enough to know that there are always exceptions to any company guidelines. Sometimes the good folks are let go and the inept prosper. Either way, it was going to be a long way from Thursday to Monday. Fortunately, we were travelling to Virginia Beach for the weekend to visit friends and celebrate the Chinese New Year at the Peking Duck as we have for the past several years. The distraction of “busy-ness” from business was welcomed.
We got a late start on Saturday morning because the roads were still iced over following a day of a “wintry mix”. As I sipped my coffee, still in my jammies, I scanned my email, checking and deleting the scores of sales adds I receive every day when I spied a note from Wendy, my college roommate, labelled “sad news”. In it she briefly related that her older son had been killed in a car accident last week and provided the service details and a link to the local news paper coverage. I can’t even imagine how the pain from this type of loss feels, but just the thought of it caught me in the gut, as if taking on some of her burden. I sent her a short reply expressing my sorrow and acknowledging my frustration in not being able to effectively do anything to ease her pain.
Once I the road, I made a couple of phone calls to firm up our evening plans. Since Dave and Vanya had a prior commitment, we were planning on attending evening Mass at St. Mark’s and then joining some old friends for dinner. During that conversation I learned that a friend had passed away on Sunday. He was an elderly gentleman, in his eighties but in reasonably good health. Friends saw him at Mass Sunday morning where he went up to the altar at the end of Mass to get Communion to take home to his wife. Later that afternoon while he was at the Library returning books, he suffered a massive stroke. About 11:00 that night, after receiving the Sacrament of Healing, he passed. He’d led a long and full life and died with his wife and family at his side. It’s sad to know his wife will be alone for a while, but other than that, there isn’t too much to feel bad about.
So, with these three definite examples of just how quickly like can change, we headed back to Virginia Beach to gather with dear friends and celebrate a New Year.
Car trips are always a time of introspection for me. Perhaps it is because the monotony of the Interstate highway or the constant low hum of the road noise that acts like a mantra and keeps me focused. It was a cloudy day, with ever so brief breaks when the sun peaked through. Whatever the reason, I had plenty to ponder as the miles ticked by. Aside from the obvious, the fragility of life – not only of other peoples’ lives, but also of my own, I marvelled at the trilogy of examples provided me and now wonder what kernel of truth I am to glean from it all – what action, if any, I am being called to take.
I have an old friend who has what she calls her “Test for Truth”. The test basically calls for some kind of verification from three unrelated sources. Got three. I’m just not quite clear what the question is. I suppose that given the clarity of the answers, the question will reveal itself in time. Perhaps another car trip will hasten its disclosure.
p.s. Dave’s job was spared. At least for now, the threat of our own life change was only a soft reminder.