Last Friday Fiction

Carl was feeling mighty blue. He had just seen an email from a treasured coworker announcing that she was taking a new job with a different firm.

This treasured coworker, who Carl jokingly thought of as Number Seven because of an Eagles’ song, was the kind of person who brought cheer and happiness to the office. Carl knew she would be missed.

Moreover, she was the second person to be leaving this spring. The same amount of work would have to be done by fewer people. The business was trying to cut expenses through a hiring freeze.

But the biggest ache in Carl’s thought came from the fearful thought, “Here we go again.” For Carl knew that it was exactly 1,599 days since his life had fallen to pieces when another treasured coworker had left for a better job. The very fact that Carl knew that number says all that needs to be said.

Carl will get over it. He promised himself long ago never to let anyone at work be so important to him that he would grieve over his or her departure. Carl might mope around the house over the weekend. In future days he might feel a pang in his heart walking past an empty desk. But just as Carl had learned physical therapy to ease the pain of a pinched nerve, he was also learning mental and emotional and spiritual therapy to overcome other painful losses.

Don’t worry about Carl. He’ll be fine. J.