Last Friday was the ‘Celebration of Life’ for my late colleague Ed. The time leading up to this and the event itself affected me in unexpected ways. I felt more strongly affected by Ed’s passing than I had expected as compared to the passing of other former colleagues over the bygone years. Some of which were more tragic than Ed’s passing, which at eighty one (81) was not unexpected.

But there was something else that moved me and I had difficulty in naming. I bought a card for the family and mulled over the various ways I could express my feelings, but what were these exactly? They kept shifting and reformulating from the many shared events in our lives as colleagues since 1973 to the less personal forms of expressing one’s sympathy.

On Thursday I located a tasteful card ‘In Sympathy’ with a short message inside. Socially we had never been close, but we kept in touch about family life. The card also had sufficient blank space to write something more personal. This became the expression of my feelings as these coalesced slowly, attempting a poem, but I became stuck after two stanzas.

I started to realise that having worked with a colleague for so many years since 1973 twelve of which were close, results in bonds which I called colleaguel- friendship.

On Friday morning I had sore throat, a bit of a temp and a cold. I almost sent an email of regret, but left it as a draft. Instead, I decided to go out, buy a paper and see how I felt. I started to realise that having worked with a colleague for so many years since 1973 twelve of which were close, results in bonds which I called colleaguel- friendship’. After all, twelve years of seven hour work days spent in a common cause, you share as much as frequent as you might in a personal relationship.

And I may add that Eddie - as I called him at times - was a very personable guy, caring and not afraid to state his opinion, which made his contribution valuable in our work together. So I wrote on the card for the family that those twelve years of close colleaguel work had been the most significant period in my professional life and remembered with fondness.

At the chapel, after the memorial service I did pay my respects to Ed’s - surviving - son Scott and his wife Ann. I told Scott about his Dad telling me years ago that one of his early forefathers had been a pirate, while with Ann I shared my discovery of the closeness of my working relationship with her late husband. During the on going and busy reception I connected with quite a few retired and still working colleagues sharing our feelings and stories.

I took the bus back home from across the street giving myself time to assimilate this special day’s events, which I’d almost skipped! I am still thankful that I did not. Such significant events of loss and sadness need to be given a worthy place in our life and memory.

That way we rob ourselves of an opportunity to enrich our lives even though we have suffered a significant loss.

They are difficult to process and assimilate, which makes it tempting to bypass them initially, but by doing so we can make them into a negative factor in our lives. That way we rob ourselves of an opportunity to enrich our lives even though we have lost something significant. As a matter of fact I only came to realise the significance of my working relationship with Ed through the process of acknowledging my feelings of loss. By experiencing the loss I was handed a surprising gift that enriches my life.

In closing I would say - as if Ed might be listening in - be in peace, because rest you won’t and keep an eye peeled for that pirate ancestor of yours. You guys may have quite a bit of ethereal fun together.
<10:47am.