I don't usually write about work, but something is happening that has me in tears.
Someone at my office, let's call her Grandma, has been there longer than anyone else here. She welcomed me with open arms since day one, even when my predecessor shat all over her. I taught her how to use a computer from "this is a mouse" to "Payroll's done" even with a crippled dominant hand.
Anyway, she has a serious illness that just came to our attention yesterday. She waited to get help for a large growth because she was afraid of Covid. So she may not be coming back to work because, well, healing's a big deal and work can take a flying flip. I'm worried for her and her family.
On a related note, we need to keep things moving while she's not here, despite having no clue how she ran this ship in occasionally troubled waters. We are wondering how one woman in her 90s was able to stuff so much work into her few hours a week. We've got no clue how things are organized, much less how to do all but the basic tasks.
But the biggie? I have to come to the terms that nobody lives forever, despite wanting them to.
So all my fretting and stewing over the weekend about a reprimand (that never came) was for naught. It was taken over by far more important things. Far more troubling things.
Moral: live life to the fullest. And leave notes on how to run a tight ship. Or at least how to not sink a blow-up dinghy.
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