It’s the title of an Eagles song that hold meaning to me because of the loss of our mother back in 2009. It became a theme song of sorts. Last week when I got back to work from my usual two-day break, I discovered during our morning meeting that there was a sympathy card for us to sign for a fellow co-worker. Having not gotten the news I asked why.
“Her daughter passed away,” my supervisor told me.
I personally consider this co-worker more of an acquaintance than friend. More to the point she is mostly a pain that I sometimes tolerate because to tell her how I honestly feel toward her I would be written up or terminated. But, upon hearing this news I was shocked to the core and my hyper emotion came out as a choked a sob of sadness at her loss.
To lose one’s relative is tough enough, but to lose a child, it must be the worse of all. Your child is expected to outlive you. They’re the ones who cry over your memorial or funeral, not the other way around. This really is no word to describe the person upon losing a child. Spouses become widow or widower; a child becomes an orphan.
Saturday, she had a memorial service at the Kalispel Ballroom for her daughter. I never met her, but my co-workers and I went there to ay our respects to her, our co-worker. The place naturally was packed, and we found a spot toward the back of the room.
People, her friends and acquaintances came up to the front and delivered testimonials of her life and how she affected them, a typical service. Not more than maybe five minutes later, our co-worker, wearing a black and white dress and clutching a handkerchief came out to the hallway and we came out and greeted her. My emotions came out fully as I saw the devastated expression on her face. We all went to her and gave her a flower and cards, then we all hugged her individually. Some of us expressed heartfelt condolences and sympathy, while others, like me simply hugged her tightly and tearfully let go.
Later as I walked out to the parking garage to get into my car, that song came to mind. There truly is a hole in her heart now.
Jerry Schellhammer 