Notice from the afterlife

This morning’s email includes a notice to congratulate Rosalind on her 20-year work anniversary.

 

I’m still young enough, although almost 50, that none of my age-cohort acquaintances have been settled in any job for that length of time.

 

Myself, I’ve been in the same job for 10 years, which is surprising. Gen X has taken a long time to settle down.

 

But Rosalind- she didn’t settle into a job 20 years ago- she died.

 

Eight years ago, this woman was celebrating thirteen years as a freelance illustrator and four years as a mom- she didn’t know it was all she’d ever have. Time would end before the next anniversary, the next birthday.

 

We weren’t close--she was my co-worker; someone I might see as I moved through the city. But her death shook me.

In some ways our paths were similar. Two single mothers with young children-her son and my daughter born a year apart. Working freelance in our chosen fields; a choice of freedom over stability. When I got news of her death, I saw these commonalities clearer than I ever had before.

The death of anyone who hasn’t reached their prescribed number of days is difficult but when a mother leaves a child; there’s no holding the grief in such a small vessel.

Sometimes I wish social media wouldn't send such shocking reminders of transience to my inbox. But it might be a an unwanted gift; this notice from the afterlife.