When I think of you I think about the state of your hair depicting your day. At work, the more ruffled your hair indicated the emotional toll of the day. I think about that amazing cake you had Elaine make of my broken down sunfire that was a regular conversation at work, essentially if it would make it another day.
I reached out to you before even my own mom, when my passport was stolen in Cambodia. Logically, I needed my birth certificate which was stashed among my other fragmented possessions in a Canfor storage bay, so I was looking for how I could access that being a country away. The first thing you asked me was if I was okay and if I needed money. Financially, I was fine but emotionally, you made me feel so much more secure. Ever a feminist, it was only you and Budd, the Plant Manager, who I allowed to refer to me as The Girl, in indearing terms. As you both told employees, contractors and visitors alike, to go talk to The Girl to seek additional help.
We had a complacated relationship, to be sure. I've drifted away from the closeness of my own dad and so throughout the last seven years I've acquired a select few father-like figures on my own. One relationship includes Mike's very own Dad, who has shown me how an adult parental relationship functions, including ever helping and advising us on our house renovation dreams. But you were very much on this list of men who have deeply impacted my life, and I'm sorry I never told you this.
And like any close relationship, my affection for you was as equally strong as my frustrations. Our professional relationship was blended with heated conversations about managing and possibly mismanaging employees, some humorous and some not, where the end of the loud conversation ended with you quickly evicting the office to the safe haven of your bus stop, aka where you smoked, and I would rush back to my own desk fuming in misunderstanding.
I didn't realize how deeply I hurt you when I accepted a Human Resources position within the mining industry. I wasn't leaving you John, but merely following in your footsteps as the majority of your career took place within the mining world. I should have told you that. I saw your eyes light up, as you sat with me on Canfor company time, going over the milling process of extracting gold from the earth. I know now that you initially thought our work relationship would come to an end, but you became even more of a mentor and friend to me as I navigate my way through an industry you knew so well, as I called to discuss metallurgy and engineering. I really appreciated and enjoyed that.
When I was told about your departing, dear John, I'm only sorry I never told you how much you meant to me and how much you influenced my life decisions and impacted my life path. I was shocked when I first got word of what happeened. I hadn't had time to process and appreciate what you meant to me, to untangle and understand the role you took on in my personal and professional life. Mostly, I regret not telling you any of this. I reached out to friends and coworkers as I knew they cherished you just as much. Really, it was a selfish attempt for them to help me cope with loosing you; I know they felt those same feelings of loss. You made so many people's life better.
I thought I would have more time; Mike and I had every intention on visiting you and Nancy on the island when we hiked the West Coast Trail. I'm only hoping your retired colleague and friend, Jeff, will take us in come summer.
I looked back on our text message and take solice that I connected with you in mid September. You were one of the first I told about our engagement, where you promised a beer on our behalf and a visit if the ceremony were to take place in Smithers. Half of that will still remain true.
And so, as I once again accept a Human Resources position within the mining industry, it was you who I automatically sought out to help me negotiate an offer. To be proud of me. Only you're no longer here.
I had many people reach out to me when they found about your passing. It was such a compliment that they knew we were close and how sad I would be, and I take a small amount comfort and much hope that if friends and coworkers knew how much you meant to me, maybe you did too.
Fish on, John
With so much love,
Kirstin
