Today’s blog
Lynn Murphy Mark
Just do it
I have stolen Nike’s famous tag because it applies to what transpired yesterday. I have a story to tell about finding someone precious from my past, and then losing him just as quickly.
A few weeks ago, Rose gave me a name and number for a person she knows that was interested in helping out immigrants if at all possible. She is executor of an estate and has many useful things – clothing, furniture, and other household goods – that many of our immigration clients could use.
I called and made contact with this generous soul. As we spoke on the phone, her last name percolated in my memory and I asked if she was related to a man that I used to work with many years ago. “Oh”, she said, “He’s my brother!”. While we were on the phone, she texted him and got his permission to give me his number. I was so excited by this wonderful blast from the past that when I got off the phone with his sister, I called Katie, who also has a history with him.
Katie and I were beyond tickled at having uncovered a co-worker from some 40 years ago, especially someone with whom we had shared some hilarious times. He happened to be one of the funniest guys on the planet, in addition to being a rockstar social worker at the psychiatric center where we three had given our blood, sweat and tears.
After talking with Katie I texted him and asked him if I could give his number to Katie. “Certainly.”, he wrote, “I have missed you both in my life.” I texted him back and said he had made two old women very happy. I called Katie back and gave her his number. We both said we would be in touch with him and I said I would call him over the weekend.
Well, the weekend came and went and I didn’t call. The next time Katie and I talked, she said she had texted him but not heard back as yet. Tuesday, as part of my drive to Santa Fe I called Katie from the road and we exchanged funny stories about him and swore we would be calling him soon.
One thing his sister had told me in our initial conversation was that he was enduring a condition that caused him painful episodes. Times so painful that he would miss family affairs, which he ordinarily loved to attend. She said he didn’t like to talk about it much, but it was a very real factor in his life these days. Tuesday, when Katie said she hadn’t heard from him, I said maybe he was having an episode and just wasn’t up to communicating.
Yesterday was a beautiful day in Santa Fe. I was outside on the portal having my morning coffee and enjoying the view when a text came from his sister. At first I didn’t realize who it was because only her phone number came through. As soon as I read the first paragraph I was completely overcome. She was texting to tell me that he had died at home sometime on Tuesday. Two of his sisters found him with his dog by his side. I had to read her message three times before it sunk in. I knew I had to call Katie right away.
So, Katie and I talked about him. We mostly talked about both of us missing an opportunity to connect with him by phone. We had planned to ask him to get together with us when Katie comes to St. Louis in September. But neither of us had picked up the phone to make that contact. We agreed that this was a painful reminder of what can happen when we fail to reach out to a fellow traveler. My lesson learned? Don’t pass up an opportunity to re-connect with a treasured person from the past, especially when the Universe offers that chance.
Rest in peace, Rick.