It was a typical morning. Get up. Shower. Get dressed. Take the dog out. Tiptoe through the house quietly while the family sleeps. Commute. Listen to the radio. Make shopping lists in my head. Plan for the weekend. Check off the Christmas list. Remind myself to make this phone call and that one later today. Obsess over stupid shit that in the end doesn't really matter.
You know. The typical morning before work on a typical day.
And then it was the typical morning at the office. I sat in my little empty cubicle in a large and mostly empty office space of grey cubicle walls, fluorescent lights, and the sound of keyboards tapping.
As I, myself, was tapping away at my keyboard, I was lost in my work and in my thoughts from earlier.
Get this done. Get that done. I should do this. I should do that. Did this get fixed? Did that? Oh, and I need to work on this and I need to work on that. Did my family get this thing they needed done? Did they get that done? Did I remember to help them get this or that done?
And on and on.
As I'm working and thinking away, I hear a woman in the cubicle opposite to mine take a call. We share a cubicle wall, but until this morning when she answered the phone, I didn't even know there were desks on the other side of me, much less people. I'm new in this office and I have yet to make introductions…and I'm also likely leaving this office soon, so I feel…why bother.
But it bothered me today.
No.
NO!
NONONONONO!
NOOOOOO!!
That's what I heard on the other side of the cubicle wall.
At first I thought, darn. She lost the work she'd been doing all morning.
But then I quickly realized, that it was much much more serious.
Little did she know when she answered her desk phone it would be a call like this. A call that no one would want to receive. A call that changed her life forever.
She was told her son was killed.
I never in my life have heard the voice of a mother, in the very moment, when she learns she lost her child. It was devastating. It was beyond heartbreaking. I can't even find the words that can aptly describe the pain I heard over the cubicle wall. The tragedy.
All I could do was sit at my desk, frozen. Hoping to hear her say her son is ok, or just a little hurt, but please please please don't let her son be dead.
I couldn't move.
I thought at one point that I should walk around the cubicle and check on her. But I heard another woman, her friend, come and talk to her. Soothe her. I imagine her friend was holding her, stroking her hair, rocking her in comfort as she stayed on the phone for more information about her son.
And I really was torn - I felt like I should go to her and offer help.
But I didn't.
And thankfully her friend was there. And her friend ran out of the office with her. And her friend drove her where she needed to go.
When the crying stopped, I stepped around the corner. They were long gone.
You know. The typical morning before work on a typical day.
And then it was the typical morning at the office. I sat in my little empty cubicle in a large and mostly empty office space of grey cubicle walls, fluorescent lights, and the sound of keyboards tapping.
As I, myself, was tapping away at my keyboard, I was lost in my work and in my thoughts from earlier.
Get this done. Get that done. I should do this. I should do that. Did this get fixed? Did that? Oh, and I need to work on this and I need to work on that. Did my family get this thing they needed done? Did they get that done? Did I remember to help them get this or that done?
And on and on.
As I'm working and thinking away, I hear a woman in the cubicle opposite to mine take a call. We share a cubicle wall, but until this morning when she answered the phone, I didn't even know there were desks on the other side of me, much less people. I'm new in this office and I have yet to make introductions…and I'm also likely leaving this office soon, so I feel…why bother.
But it bothered me today.
No.
NO!
NONONONONO!
NOOOOOO!!
That's what I heard on the other side of the cubicle wall.
At first I thought, darn. She lost the work she'd been doing all morning.
But then I quickly realized, that it was much much more serious.
Little did she know when she answered her desk phone it would be a call like this. A call that no one would want to receive. A call that changed her life forever.
She was told her son was killed.
I never in my life have heard the voice of a mother, in the very moment, when she learns she lost her child. It was devastating. It was beyond heartbreaking. I can't even find the words that can aptly describe the pain I heard over the cubicle wall. The tragedy.
All I could do was sit at my desk, frozen. Hoping to hear her say her son is ok, or just a little hurt, but please please please don't let her son be dead.
I couldn't move.
I thought at one point that I should walk around the cubicle and check on her. But I heard another woman, her friend, come and talk to her. Soothe her. I imagine her friend was holding her, stroking her hair, rocking her in comfort as she stayed on the phone for more information about her son.
And I really was torn - I felt like I should go to her and offer help.
But I didn't.
And thankfully her friend was there. And her friend ran out of the office with her. And her friend drove her where she needed to go.
When the crying stopped, I stepped around the corner. They were long gone.
Why do I not know the human being sitting on the other side of the cubicle wall? Why are we strangers when we share such a close space for 8 hours a day?
I felt so horrible for not approaching her. But then I realized, that by not approaching her maybe I did the right thing. I felt terrible, yes. And even awkward. But this situation was certainly not about me. It was about a mother receiving the most tragic news of her life. And how would she have felt if a complete stranger had gone up to her, and invaded a very very personal moment. It was a social situation, that, I think in my head I should have reached out to her, but because some social situations are better left alone, I'm glad I didn't. I think it was best for her that I not intrude. That I not force myself into her private world, her pain…all so that I feel better and not uncomfortable with the tragedy I was hearing over the grey cubicle wall. In my desire to help her, I realized that maybe I was by not magnifying her pain with my presence. The presence of a stranger.
And more…
I know it sounds so damn cliché, like those damn inspirational quotes that float around on social media, but...
It made me think about how fragile life is. How delicate. That at a given moment, your entire world can be turned upside down.
I went into the hall and made a couple phone calls. I told them I loved them and can't wait to hug them. I know they were not expecting me to call this morning - because I never call in the middle of a work day. But today, I simply had to.
I left the house today without telling them I loved them. A kiss on a sleeping forehead was what I left them before the mundane routine of everyday life took the reins.
But today, and everyday, I want my loved ones to know how very much they are loved…how very much I love them. And I hope they know that every single day.
Because I never know when my life may be turned upside down like that. And all that really matters is how much love you put out there for others to know. To feel. To sleep soundly to at night. To wrap themselves up with when the storms blow in. Nothing else really matters. Really. The mundane routine. The lists and chores and errands and jobs and appointments and plans. The shit we obsess over. None of it comes close to being more important than being present in love. Being present with the ones you love.
And making sure that everyday love comes first.
I went into the hall and made a couple phone calls. I told them I loved them and can't wait to hug them. I know they were not expecting me to call this morning - because I never call in the middle of a work day. But today, I simply had to.
I left the house today without telling them I loved them. A kiss on a sleeping forehead was what I left them before the mundane routine of everyday life took the reins.
But today, and everyday, I want my loved ones to know how very much they are loved…how very much I love them. And I hope they know that every single day.
Because I never know when my life may be turned upside down like that. And all that really matters is how much love you put out there for others to know. To feel. To sleep soundly to at night. To wrap themselves up with when the storms blow in. Nothing else really matters. Really. The mundane routine. The lists and chores and errands and jobs and appointments and plans. The shit we obsess over. None of it comes close to being more important than being present in love. Being present with the ones you love.
And making sure that everyday love comes first.
So I am sending my love to those I love. My family, my friends. I want you to know how much I love you.
And to the woman on the other side of the cube...all of my love to you. May the love of your family and friends give you the strength you'll need to weather this tragic storm. And may the sun rise again for you, and you feel the rays of love and hope warm your shoulders, your entire body as you raise your face to the sky. Eyes closed. Hands and heart open. Surrounded by peace. Cloaked in love.
All of my love to you all.
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