In my struggle to get things packed for moving into my new apartment, I have found it difficult to write these posts on time. Then again when you’re keeping yourself very busy, it is typical to not need the therapy as much. Physical labor can often supplement that, offering full body therapy as well as a place for the mind to wander.
My mind keeps drifting back to my former coworker, the one who just recently committed suicide. I keep feeling that strange surreal ache of knowing he is gone now, but trying to make it feel real. I wasn’t there. I didn’t see the body. Nor did I want to really. Even if I did I would be working during the funeral and wouldn’t be able to attend it, because it takes place on a Monday. It felt like there would be no closure until much time had passed. I guess I just wait and take it a day at a time.
What a strange day to hold a funeral. On a Monday. Strange, because the deceased would never pass up a Monday to work. Also because most of the time, families want everyone possible to attend, so weekends are usually the time most people can get out of work. Or don’t work at all. It just doesn’t seem like what he would have chosen. Then again, suicide didn’t seem like what he would had chosen either. I am no one to judge on either count. I guess I’m just trying to process it all.
Anyway, I had spent yesterday afternoon in my garage. I had some pieces of furniture that needed so repairing. A couch than needed new stuffing and a vanity bench than needed the legs on it replaced. So my afternoon was hauling furniture from the attack of our garage down the steep steps and onto the ground level, and fixing those pieces of furniture. I suppose that was why he was on my mind a lot. He was our store maintenance guy. This was the kind of thing he loved doing, or at the very least was good at, and so I felt a kind of odd and brief connection with him in those moments.
I miss him.