Did I Ever Say Thank You?
Yesterday, the soul of an old boss of mine left this earth. I could put it in more plain terms by saying she died. But simple words are not for this beautiful woman.
Hello Death. Here you are again. I see you and by now I know and accept you. But I wouldn’t be human if you didn’t stop me in my tracks to reassess and, in this particular instance more than others, reflect and give thanks.
My old boss wasn’t “old” at all. She was my age. She was a spiritual, giving, being who made an impression. She impacted and made a real difference to my life. I doubt she knew that.
We became friends. Not the kind that would ring and chat or hang out. More the sort that would catch up once a year and check in to see what the past 12 months had brought to each others’ lives. Like a jam-packed super-juicy celebration rather than a watered-down cordial-flavoured one. Does that make sense? I reckon if I’d have said that to her she would’ve got me. She always got me.
Each and every time we connected she encouraged me to step beyond the point in life I was at. I never needed to say much before she could tap into my insecurities and blow them out of the water.
In one of those yearly catch ups, she quizzed me on why I wasn’t writing more. I’ve never forgotten how I felt in that moment. And I’ll hold onto that feeling and the words she said that afternoon forever because they are true. They apply to many a thing so I’ll share them here in honour of her intelligent and inspirational self;
Stuff what people think, you have to do what you have to do.
She cared about empowering women. She was there for me after my brother died. And despite being my boss at the time, she wasn’t so proud that she couldn’t reciprocate her own vulnerability about her mum’s death. A few years on when both of our jobs were at risk due to government funding cuts, we found ourselves working in the office at 7pm one week night. We stepped outside our office building in the centre of Adelaide to wait for our dinner delivery and somehow the conversation turned from pizza to work to personal life. She amazed me with her openness. She was unguarded yet a leader. It was something I’d never encountered before.
She dared to be different.
I remember the little trampoline (rebounder) she placed in her office to bounce on at the beginning of the day to stimulate her lymph systems. I recall how casual she was with her own boss, a government Chief Executive, which astounded me yet taught me that you can still respect another while not bowing to them. It was something new to me and in hindsight, a shock to my cultural upbringing. I appreciated her honesty at sharing the very parts of her that were my equal despite our differences in career status.
Those working days and the annual catch ups since produced so many special memories that I hold in my heart. It’s that super-juiciness that lives on.
Then came our final ever yearly catch-up, Friday just gone. She was sleeping like an angel, life slipping away from her, and still she managed to make an impact. If I hadn’t said it before, I was sure to say it this time. I whispered a few short sentences in her ear, the essence of which was “thank you”.
I’m so grateful for the opportunity to say those words while she was still of this earth.
Yesterday she passed, and now she is truly an angel.
Clare, rest peacefully you beautiful, intelligent, loving, spiritual, caring, soul. My boss. My friend.
Thank you.
Goodnight.