Bare Trees, Grey Light

Well, the trees aren't bare this time of year, but the song is fitting given that this has been a week of loss. A dear friend and her family have lost their matriarch. I lost a colleague.

My friend lost her grandmother, who had reached the remarkable age of 99. Even though her advanced years were a signal that her remaining days couldn't have numbered too many, it is still an incredible loss and a shock. From my friend's pictures, her grandmother was in many, smiling, with the assemblage of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. If memory serves there are some great-greats running or toddling about in nappies, too.

My own grandmother lived well into her 90s, but she had ceased being the grand dame of the family in her late 70s when Alzheimers stripped her of her faculties and she was but a shell of the woman she had been for  so many years. I will admit that when my grandmother passed there was more a sense of relief, as I know that she would not wanted to have lived in a reduced capacity and relied on the constant care of others.

My family is neither as large nor as close as my friend's. The funeral for my grandmother was not well attended. She had outlived two of her three children, and the remaining child and her family were estranged from the rest of the family, which only consisted of two grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. There was no wake.

The celebration of the life of my friend's grandmother will be much better attended, more full of tears, and yet  more full of happy memories, more full of laughter, kisses, and hugs.

My colleague that passed died by his own hand. He had been asked to retire, and was almost 70. Apparently worried over finances, he took his own life, perhaps believing that the insurance money would be a greater boon to his family than his continued existence. Perhaps he felt stripped of his dignity and manhood because his job was being taken away.

I cannot say that we were close. I had known him for years, seen him in the building, had coffee and chats from time to time. We always smiled and said hello. He was ever friendly and kind. I wish I had known him better.

For some moments in life there are no words.