A little over a week ago, in the midst of the usual monthly chaos of deadline time and preparing to go to press, I found out that a dear friend of mine had passed away. I mention the timeframe because it means I have yet to let the news hit me. After the issue goes to press I’m sure it will, and it will hurt.
It feels almost wrong that I have the right to call this man my dear friend; I haven’t treated him like one. I’ve only seen him once or twice in the last seven years, and rarely had contact with him except through Christmas cards. To be honest, I didn’t even know he was sick, yet he has apparently been battling ALS for two years.
This man was my first “real boss.” After graduating with a Journalism Diploma from Kwantlen Polytechnic University, I couldn’t find a job despite sending out lots of resumés, so I started painting houses for College Pro. I figured I could keep looking for a “real job” in between shifts. The problem with that plan was I was so busy with College Pro that I didn’t continue the job hunt at all … I was so exhausted at the end of every day that I didn’t have the energy.
Sometimes I think that’s the way it was meant to happen, that my perfect first job was just waiting for the right timing … because one day, after months of zero activity, I glanced at the want ads and there it was: an advertisement for the position of editor-in-chief with a family-run, well-respected trade journal. I sent in my resumé right away; I was fully qualified, but I didn’t expect the lead to go any further than the rest had.
Except it did. I got the job, quickly connecting with the man, who was the owner and publisher of the journal, and his daughter, whom I’d be replacing.
The position was wonderful and quickly expanded my skill set, but the real perk was my boss and his wife. You see, this magazine had been started in 1918, and been in the same family for much of that time. I was lucky enough to be treated as though I was carrying on that respected legacy as a true member of their family. Because the magazine was small (just me, the publisher and his wife, who did the bookkeeping), I quickly developed a very close relationship with my employers. We started out in an office, but soon realized with the age of email that it would make more sense to work out of their house. That was it: I was truly “home.”
At the time, my dad was working overseas a lot of the time and my boss became a substitute father. He was vibrant, gregarious, kind and generous. He made sure I never went without, always giving me little bonuses or even paying for the often-needed repairs on my very old car. He truly was a very special man, and I was so lucky to count him as my friend and boss. I can only remember one instance – over five years! – in which we truly “butted heads.” We were both sick with the flu, I made a silly mistake because my brain wasn’t all there, he called me on it and raised his voice, and I got mad at him for getting mad. We both felt terrible, apologized and got back to our usual rapport.
Beyond the confines of my job, we shared a lot of our personal lives with each other – he knew everything about my family, my relationship, and my hopes for the future. He was always there to listen, to support, and to share advice. Despite knowing I didn’t want to stay in Vancouver for long, I ended up working for the family for five years, simply because I couldn’t imagine them not being a part of my life.
Eventually I moved back to the Island, and we lost touch. I let our relationship fall into the past as a new job, partner, baby … and life, really, got in the way, as often happens. I always thought there’d be time to visit, to catch up, to reconnect and introduce him to my family. But because I let this very cherished relationship slip away, and because this man was very private, I never knew he was sick, and I never got the chance to see him one more time.
As spring approaches, and with it the promise of growth and change, I can only see this loss as a valuable reminder that life can change at any moment – we never know what tomorrow will bring, so the best we can do is enjoy every day and spend as much time as possible with those we love.
