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Opening wounds and loving the living

A coworker passed away this past Friday. It was sudden and shocking. He and his wife both worked at Permobil and so we all felt the pain deeply. Not just for the loss of the coworker, but for his wife. Our company is a close one. When one hurts, we all hurt. We show up for each other.

When the news broke that Catherine had died, it wasn't 20 minutes later that coworkers started showing up at my house. They have loved me and cared for me and watched me cry and watched me yell and then laugh and then get really drunk. They were part of the light in our darkest hour. They hauled off trash and brought food and booze and more food and more booze. They have offered their offices when I came back if I ever needed space. They have hugged me and asked what I needed. They have helped me get photos and videos off Catherine's iPhone. My coworkers have made my work a safe place. A happy place.

When I got the news of the passing of my coworker, my thoughts went straight to his wife. I'm not ready to visit another grieving family. I'm still grieving myself and some days I'm good to get out of bed and get dressed. It feels selfish but I'm of no use to anyone in the same position as myself. While I don't know her grief, I do know grief. It feels helpless being a person who wants to help but can't. I did what I could and made sure she got my number. She called last night and we chatted for a bit. About how she was feeling, things to come, and other stuff that isn't included in the non-existent guidebook for when someone suddenly dies. All the stuff that no one told me. As painful as the conversation was, it was nice to feel like a helper.

Up until yesterday I was remiss to reach out to parents who had lost a child. I felt like I was opening their wounds all over again. Knowing my own pain, I didn't want to make someone else feel like me by reliving their pain. But after speaking with my coworker, I realized why these women have made themselves available to me. Because they know. Because they went through it. They get my pain and while I know it hurts to talk about it, it has to be a bit cathartic.

So when my coworker comes back to work, she will be loved. And hugged. And supported. We grieve for the one that died but we have to remember to love the living. They are the ones that need it. The deceased don't know how we feel after they die. They are in a better place. We have to focus on the ones that are left to go on. They need the love and light and support. I'm blessed that I work with people that love the living. And when my coworker comes back, she will be just as loved.

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