Flu, Fluish, Etc., and Death

I’ve worked at my current company for 7 years, 11 months. This New-Year break was my longest-ever, a full 8 days. The day before it started, I got the flu and effectively slept through the entire thing.

On the one hand, fuck 2019, of course this happened. On the other, I felt so fucking terrible, that the sadness I expected to experience didn’t actually happen. And that’s just about the best I could hope for.

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My dad’s favorite-ever employee, whom he hired and always, always spoke about with pride, sent me an e-mail last night to say that my father’s favorite colleague, effectively his best (work-)friend, died on December 20th. She said my dad would’ve seen humor in them both dying in the same year, and perhaps he would’ve. I’m not sure if my dad knew he was sick; I don’t recall him mentioning it to me. But it shocked me. He always seemed hale and hearty, big and full-of-life. I met him only a few times, but in my dad’s stories he overflowed with motion.

After my dad died, he was one of the few people I notified and he had nice comments. It was to him that I wrote a couple comments I think I included here as “I just sent an e-mail” excerpts.

I didn’t know he was sick. It’s sad. Fuck 2019.

終