A sweet memory ...
Recently a dear friend unexpectedly lost her husband. It was a shock but it also reminded me how often something like this can bring out the goodness of those around us. In September of 1990 my own husband passed away. His death was no surprise since he'd been sick for many years but it was still traumatic for me. I managed to get through the first week but in the back of my mind I knew I would have to return to work and I dreaded it.
I was a secretary in our local ER and, on the first day back I was assigned to working next to Dr. M.
(shown here working one of the Christmas shifts). "Moose" (as we irreverently and affectionately called him) ran a tight ship and, other than a quick hug in the morning, there was no indication that he was aware of my sadness. It was the usual hectic day and I found comfort in the hustle and bustle of things I was used to doing.
That was one of the longest days of my life. I found that if I concentrated on each task as it came up I could get through without crying but it was very taxing and I was exhausted when my shift ended. I also dreaded returning home and once inside the house I headed for the bedroom. It was then that I noticed the light was blinking on my answering machine. I was so tired I almost didn't listen to it but I did … and here's what it said:
"Hi, Ginnie, this is Moose. I knew you'd be walking into an empty house and just wanted you to know that you're not alone. We love you and are here for you. See you in the morning."
I have never forgotten how much this simple message meant to me. I've kept it close to my heart and I bring it out on occasion when the healing process falters or when I need to share it with others.
Thanks, Moose.
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I was a secretary in our local ER and, on the first day back I was assigned to working next to Dr. M.
(shown here working one of the Christmas shifts). "Moose" (as we irreverently and affectionately called him) ran a tight ship and, other than a quick hug in the morning, there was no indication that he was aware of my sadness. It was the usual hectic day and I found comfort in the hustle and bustle of things I was used to doing.
That was one of the longest days of my life. I found that if I concentrated on each task as it came up I could get through without crying but it was very taxing and I was exhausted when my shift ended. I also dreaded returning home and once inside the house I headed for the bedroom. It was then that I noticed the light was blinking on my answering machine. I was so tired I almost didn't listen to it but I did … and here's what it said:
"Hi, Ginnie, this is Moose. I knew you'd be walking into an empty house and just wanted you to know that you're not alone. We love you and are here for you. See you in the morning."
I have never forgotten how much this simple message meant to me. I've kept it close to my heart and I bring it out on occasion when the healing process falters or when I need to share it with others.
Thanks, Moose.
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PS: I don't like that only Google members can post on my blog. If you want to leave a comment feel free to email it to me at snowflakesnew@gmail.com & I will post it.
posted by Goldendaze-Ginnie at 4:00 PM
7 Comments:
Wow! What a thoughtful thing for him to do! "I knew you'd be walking into an empty house and just wanted you to know that you're not alone" left for you to hear. It won't work quite that way on a cell phone, since the person would probably either answer when I called or listen before going home from work, but I'll have to remember this. We all need to know others are thinking of us and care for us, and a phone call at the right time would do that. We are not alone when we have friends who care.
Well, that brought tears to my eyes.
That was soooooo sweet, and as my former neighbor used to say, very 'thoughty!'
Yes, many of us have had that 'first day back to work' and the much more dreaded first day coming back to an empty home. Then there is that first birthday after... first- you name it- and they are all rough. You were lucky to have Moose to keep you busy and, well, sort of distracted, to help you thru your job.
For me, going back to school reminded me of show business - the show must go on- and like you found out, you slip into the roll you must play and let habit take over- until it is time to turn the key in that lock.
Good job, Moose! I know you thanked him. You are still thanking him.
It's those little things that mean a lot.
Amazing how the most simple of things can help the most. What a nice idea.
Wow, what an awesome, caring man or person for that matter. He totally understood what was needed.
That was such a thoughtful and simple thing that Dr. M did but it meant so much. People often fail to realize how easy it can be to be supportuve at a time when it’s needed most and all it takes is to say something kind. I hope the days after your husband’s passing were easier to navigate, Ginnie, knowing you had such support.
Seemingly small gestures can assume gigantic proportions in our lives as your story reveals.
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