R.I.P. Pam
by Scott Hardie on January 14, 2022
Pam was a co-worker from the 2000s who recently passed away. Kelly worked with her much more closely than I did, sharing a cubicle space with her for years and getting to know her very well, though I had plenty of conversations with her too. She was always ready with a compliment or a joke or a homemade treat, and she was a source of light in a job that could be quite a grind some days. The group photos that I have left from that company always showed her smiling and laughing. You don't always appreciate the people who bring happiness into your life until you feel their absence, and it's a shame. She adored her children and grandchildren, and I know how much they miss her now. I do too.
Three Replies to R.I.P. Pam
Scott Hardie | January 14, 2022
Yes, all true and well said. Thanks! My father's been gone 25 years this week, but I still see particular scenes from old movies and remember how much they amused him. I appreciate that I got a chance to know Pam, and to be inspired to be a light for other people like she was.
Evie Totty | January 14, 2022
I don't really have more to add other than I'm sorry for your loss. I'm glad that your memories of her are good ones :)
Logical Operator
The creator of Funeratic, Scott Hardie, blogs about running this site, losing weight, and other passions including his wife Kelly, his friends, movies, gaming, and Florida. Read more »
Katie
We weren't planning to get another cat until maybe late spring, but a friend had to move in a hurry and find homes for her cats, so we agreed to adopt one. Her name is Katie, and she needs lots of reassurance about her new home. So far, she's mostly doing well, playing with toys and demanding lots of cuddling. Go »Where the Hell I Have Been All Year, Part II
I have a job! It sounds silly to keep that a secret, and yet I did for two years. I was fearful of being dooced for the slightest remark, since nearly anything can be interpreted as inappropriate with enough reasoning. Go »Snowbound
I'm off to Springfield for the weekend to help Kelly move. YAY SNOW. Back late Monday night. Go »R.I.P. Russ
Twelve years after losing her mother, Kelly has now lost her father too. This loss was a quieter and tidier affair, partially due to Russ not wanting a funeral or wake, and partially due to his very strained relationship with Kelly in recent years. We waited a few days to work out the trip schedule, flew up there, had a nice little graveside gathering with immediate family and then lunch out, spent time seeing the old hometown and Russ's new adopted small town (oh how I don't miss driving for hours through corn fields to get literally anywhere in Illinois), and returned with lots of tasks for Kelly to do to resolve the estate. Go »Neighborhood Botch
I've heard that riding in the front seat of an Uber signals that you want to chat with the driver, and riding in the back seat means that you prefer silence. I always sit in the back. But when I went to catch a ride from my house the other night, there was stuff in the van's back seat, so the front was the only option. Go »
Steve West | January 14, 2022
Death is a natural part of the life cycle. Although true, it doesn't make it any easier to cope, even intellectually. Time passes and the pain ebbs but it never really disappears. Even happy memories threaten tears. "This was one of my Mom's favorite movies", I'll say while reaching for a tissue. Your grief cannot be my own, but I can appreciate what that sadness feels like. It saddens me that such a lovely person is no longer here and she will not be easily replaced. There are only so many like her in the first place. Take comfort that you were privileged to know her. Remember her kindness and use her memory to improve yourself, trying to mimic her best qualities; something we should probably do before someone passes. Be well, my friend.