Somethings you never hope to find.
In this room where I'm sitting we dabbled with electronic databases, Reference USA among them. You wanted to be a Library Associate. I had just gotten onboard as a librarian, was being schooled on all the databases that we owned that I was unfamiliar with. Match made in heaven. We sat here side by side, poured over all the new stuff that my new compatriot was teaching me at the branch. We kicked around in Reference USA, played with your name, found your family out west. It was fun, sharpened both our skill sets. In the end you didn't get the job, and in the end the compariot who was teaching me those new skills found this place and ratted me out. Funny how things go.
No matter, I was kicking around the net the other day, trying to figure out how you spelled that old last name of yours. Why? Because I wanted to see if I could find an old high school photo of you. So I played around, tossed what I thought was your name at the old high school site you gave me years ago. Nada. Played with it here and there, white pages, college site, all that. Gave up, went to sleep on it. Found you the next day sideways thanks to the Detective. Went back, found you in your h/s roster but no photo. Thought, well, let's take it to the big search engine. That's when I found the obit in Google.
I am sorry, buddy.
So, I sent along a card to your house, simple, clear, not overly religious, a nice message. My name was a scrawl. It was more of a message to say that I understand what you are going through and that if I could I would tell you how I felt myself. A one line Facebook message and a card with a practically illegible name doesn't count for much. I felt alot like the man who, by necessity, has to stand outside the gates of the cemetary, watch the funeral from afar. Isn't my family, isn't my place to grieve, but still, I feel for your loss.
Lo siento, amiga. Viya con Dios.
Your WHMB
In this room where I'm sitting we dabbled with electronic databases, Reference USA among them. You wanted to be a Library Associate. I had just gotten onboard as a librarian, was being schooled on all the databases that we owned that I was unfamiliar with. Match made in heaven. We sat here side by side, poured over all the new stuff that my new compatriot was teaching me at the branch. We kicked around in Reference USA, played with your name, found your family out west. It was fun, sharpened both our skill sets. In the end you didn't get the job, and in the end the compariot who was teaching me those new skills found this place and ratted me out. Funny how things go.
No matter, I was kicking around the net the other day, trying to figure out how you spelled that old last name of yours. Why? Because I wanted to see if I could find an old high school photo of you. So I played around, tossed what I thought was your name at the old high school site you gave me years ago. Nada. Played with it here and there, white pages, college site, all that. Gave up, went to sleep on it. Found you the next day sideways thanks to the Detective. Went back, found you in your h/s roster but no photo. Thought, well, let's take it to the big search engine. That's when I found the obit in Google.
I am sorry, buddy.
So, I sent along a card to your house, simple, clear, not overly religious, a nice message. My name was a scrawl. It was more of a message to say that I understand what you are going through and that if I could I would tell you how I felt myself. A one line Facebook message and a card with a practically illegible name doesn't count for much. I felt alot like the man who, by necessity, has to stand outside the gates of the cemetary, watch the funeral from afar. Isn't my family, isn't my place to grieve, but still, I feel for your loss.
Lo siento, amiga. Viya con Dios.
Your WHMB
No comments:
Post a Comment