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 »
World Trade, Like, Something
I love it when two teenagers ring up and bag my groceries. "Did you ever see that Nicolas Cage movie about 9/11? I watched that last night, and, like, it got me thinking about how bad that was." Go »Who's Got (Car) Trouble
I'm not even halfway through paying off my new car and already it's being towed to have the engine worked on, since it won't start tonight. It didn't deal well with Kelly's camping event last weekend, coming home with creaking suspension and broken power locks, and now this. He's hoping all four tires (just replaced in the spring) make it through GooCon this time. Go »Screw the Braden River Post Office
I haven't written in this blog lately, and I hate to resume with a negative topic, but I need to vent and this makes a good outlet. I hate junk mail, as longtime TC users may recall from my many rants on the subject. Honestly, I've considered opening a storefront business that offers PO boxes to the public, and pre-filters your junk mail for you. Go »Abe, Honest
During my visit to Springfield last weekend, Kelly and I went to a historical reenactment on the outskirts of town. Every small city that can do so builds shrines to its homegrown celebrity, but Springfield takes worship of Abraham Lincoln to new levels of ridiculousness. Besides the museum with the ordinary tools used by Lincoln during his early twenties, the historical community had the actual buildings he slept in and worked in. Go »No More Mr. Nice Guy
Steve West doesn't know it yet, but he did me a big favor. Less than 48 hours after meeting me, he offered a friendly observation that I was not being assertive enough while running GooCon, to make sure everything happened right. I've heard that criticism from people my whole life, but explained in terms like "you're too polite" or "you're too fair" that don't sound like behaviors that need to be corrected. 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.