Pitfalls

Happy New Year...and many loving wishes to all of the wonderful families I got to see over the holidays! I initially wanted to take this opportunity to express my devotion to the warm people who took such great care of me while we were in the Midwest on holiday vacation, but today a startling thing happened, and it has sort of knocked the proverbial wind out of me. We arrived at work this morning right around a little after 7, as usual. Not long after I poured my first paper cup of coffee one of our staff jumped from her chair following a quick phone conversation and, panic-stricken, called a quick collection of us together in the middle of the office. A guy we work with, it was told, woke in the middle of the night to the phone call we all dread, that his mother had become sick suddenly and died. Died suddenly, as in abruptly, with no warning signs. Unexpectedly. So, as we stood in that circle of staff people, the woman explained, he was already in the air, on his way home to Indiana. And his wife was scrambling to figure out how she would get home with two very small kids (one infant, one less than five years old). It was quiet chaos for a few minutes, while two staffers were designated to head to Manhattan to help out: one would bring their car from where they park it on Long Island, the other would go and offer support with the children while the young mom packed for an extensive car ride to Indiana from New York (it being the only affordable alternative). So the only thing I knew to do, other than ward off tears (seeing as I am intensely sensitive and the briefest hint at human suffering brings me to tears) was to e-mail my parents immediately, to tell them that I love them, in case I ever run out of time, at least right then, in the midst of someone else's hurricane I remembered to tell my parents right away that they have my love. And after that I felt insanely guilty for still having my mom (and dad) to tell that to.*So the air was thick today at work, and sad. And while I could spend pages and pages recapping absolute peace spent 'tis the season with our families (with the exception of minor short-lived incidents, which were inevitable and natural), the plane delays at Newark, the endless homecooked food served by Craig's mom, the homemade mountains of cookies, the peculiar absence of snow this year, the Amtrak ride to Ann Arbor from Whiting, the board game playing with my parents, my mom's tequila lime chicken marinade, or while I could run additional paragraphs describing the excitement in having so many friends around for the New Year's Eve holiday - Julie, Gordo, Roger, Mary, Wojo, Karen, Alison, Scott and Mavis - it seems trite and cold for me to even go into any of that, given that today a friend of ours grieves over a random, sudden, painful and confusing loss. So I suppose the way I want to ring in this Year 2007, the Year of my 30th Birthday, the Year My Beloved and I Travel Internationally (London, England - two weeks, here we come!), the Year I Will Hopefully Gain Successes at Work and at Home, is to send hundreds of silent wishes to our friend's family as they manage through this experience. I want to send silent love to all of the people who I wish I could deem absolutely immortal in my mind, regardless of the unstoppable outcome. I hope we're destined to make a difference somehow with the time we have left, whether it's insignificant or as large as the sun. I hope we remember that each moment could be our last.**Here's to a hopeful 2007.