I couldn't hug her goodbye.
Last night after work, we walked out of the office together, and there it was--that pivotal moment I'd been dreading for months--everything was finalized, turned over, handed down, rolled up, and my officemate's last day at work had come to an end. I was proud of myself for not bursting into tears in the parking lot, (I waited for the drive home for that) but I was also surprised that I physically couldn't give her a hug. It was too final. So instead, I called out, "I'll call you tomorrow, but later, so you can sleep in!"
It was clingy response, yet from a safe distance. I've been in mourning about her departure for months, and in the moment, it was as much as I could manage.
I'm talking about Debbie Petersen. She is legendary in my little corner of the world. We have worked together since our kids were young, and we were, too. We've prepared and sent more groups of students to the Holy Land than I can count. We've driven to the airport in the middle of the night through all kinds of weather to get those students on their flights. We've traveled together, supplied one another's dependence on Diet Coke, worried over student concerns and calmed down frantic parents and stayed productive during the indecision of a pandemic. Together, we've dealt with all that came through our office door. Debbie is trustworthy, efficient, dependable, and has keen intuition. She is also talented, fun, generous, and thoughtful of everyone around her. She is a caretaker, always thinking of others and fulfilling needs for people who might not otherwise have someone on their "team". She is the person you want in your corner.
What do you do when the people you work with day in and day out become more than co-workers? Officemates? What do you do when they know all about your life and you know all about theirs? When you've watched each other's kids grow up and then grandchildren, too? When you've listened to each other's most serious concerns, and laughed about each other's most embarrassing moments, and supported each other through loss and grief and ill health and car accidents and gray hair and creaky joints?
I don't know the answer, but this is what I've figured out so far:
1. You call them office family, because that is what they've become.
2. You thank the Lord for the blessing of an office family, because they are blessings, indeed.
3. You don't let a little thing like retirement get in the way.
4. And you definitely don't hug them goodbye. No goodbyes here!
I'm unsure about the rest of it, but I will probably call her at lunch, just to see how retirement is going so far.
תגובות