Some weeks just get to get away from me. So, instead of missing a post I’m going to share a story from my old blog that I had for many years. This week, I learned of the unfortunate passing of one of Colin’s high school classmates. The news was shocking and I thought this story about Dr. J was timely.
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I saw Dr. John for the first time today since he left last week; his wife died on Friday.
He’s a professor in a different program but has an office in the same hallway and occasionally we will talk as he comes and goes. Our talks are never long and rarely delve deeper than talking about the classes he teaches or the ones I attend.
And so, today, as he walked through the door, I struggled with how to address the death of his wife. Before I could weigh my options he approached my desk.
“Mornin’ Dr. John, how are you?”
“I’m not sure if you know but my wife died last week,” he said with surprising bluntness.
“I’m really sorry to hear that, I can’t even imagine.”
“See, I know it up here,” he said as he pointed to his head. “But I just can’t seem to understand it here” he ended with his finger pointed to his heart. “By the way, can you open 304 for me, I have to give a test later.” And with that, he walked away.
I’m unsure if it was due to my lack of sleep or the sheer honesty with which he shared, but I could not stop thinking about our conversation. I decided to stop by Steve’s house on my way home to pick up my ax. I told him about Dr. John and questioned why he would share something so personal with me.
“Sometimes people just need to say things out loud; it just makes you feel better.”