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 »
Is That a George Lucas Character?
Matthew Preston: "If making up words for directions is wrong, I don't want to be fludoo." Go »Crash
There are some dangerous intersections in our neighborhood, where trucks come barreling through after the light turns red. This morning, Kelly and I were waiting at the light when she dropped her sunglasses. "Fuck beans," she muttered, unbuckling her seat belt and leaning forward just as the light turned green. Go »Notes from Milwaukee So Far
Bad flight Friday. Late dinner at the local 24-hour Greek diner, first pasta I've had in a week and so good. Matt thought the waitress was ignoring us; I thought she was attentive. Go »The Money Pit
Nobody's falling off of staircases or dropping bathtubs through the floor, but this month, our house has had a lot of things go wrong at once. It feels like every day brings another visit from a contractor. Here's our list so far: Mold remediation: A patch of black mold in the primary bathroom meant having the shower tiles stripped out and the infected drywall removed. Go »Buying a Printer
I bet if you work in a grocery store, you spend part of the time rearranging food that you know is going to get thrown away after it doesn't sell, so you feel like you're going to a lot of trouble for nothing. That's what buying a printer feels like. I hate buying printers because I'm highly skeptical that I can find one that will still work after six months, after Kelly and I have gone through a long series of them for the last ten years that all broke down like flimsy pieces of crap. 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.