The Cheerleader

When I hadn’t even completely registered the death of my mom, I had to face another loss. My mentor passed away almost 2 months after my mom. She, too, was battling cancer. It seemed like she was ready to beat it until something odd happened. I still don’t know how it transpired. I suppose the how is not that important. It’s the emptiness that is still there that matters. I was informed of her passing by a mutual friend. I had spoken to my mentor just a few days earlier! I had sent flowers to her a week earlier to brighten her recovery. It was not meant to be. She was so ready to fight the cancer – stare it down. But it was futile.

I first met Anne Marie when I was a young and spunky Client Service Representative. She could probably already tell I didn’t belong in the ‘business’ when she met me.  She ran a monthly department newsletter and was looking for new ‘blood’ to write some pieces. I signed up immediately as I was looking for a way to be creative at work. We connected in a breath.

I created a column of my own that became popular as I investigated issues/mysteries/questions that came up. She and I bonded over books and how illogical the world was. She was a mom at work. She encouraged me always to challenge myself (and she challenged me) and saw me doing more with my life than doing the work I was doing.

When I decided to go back to school and finish my Master’s degree, without asking she offered to write a recommendation. As my friends and I worked on a monthly zine, she read it religiously and would comment about my pieces in secret language while she walked by my aisle. When I changed jobs and stayed within the same company, we often used the interoffice mail to send each other books we recommended. We kept in touch with the company instant messaging application. When she was forced into early retirement, we emailed on a fixed basis – weekly would be my best guess although I am not certain.

While she encouraged me to do more, be more, she often downplayed her strengths. She was a nurturing individual with a soft heart for good people. She hated stupid people and those who were sycophants. Where we worked, this behavior was common and they often went hand-in-hand.

These days it seems weird to not send her an email – checking in on her or seeing what she’s reading. I find myself often texting or emailing people for the heck of it just to fill the void. It’s not the same though. Most people don’t even respond to my notes. If they do, it’s usually days later. Anne Marie almost immediately responded. If she didn’t, then something was wrong. That’s exactly how I found out she was sick.  I hadn’t gotten a response in her usual super timely manner.

It is sad to know that she isn’t reading this entry because she was a devoted follower of my blog. All I can hope for is that she’s in a good place, in peace reading a good book and checking in on me every so often in her special quiet way.