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[Oct. 19th, 2009|07:46 am]
Ethel the Blog
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I was heading home from the Sumo party on Saturday night, upset about
something that in retrospect seems a bit trivial, when I got a call frm  mskitty23. A friend and coworker of mine from the e-clinic, Kelley,
had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She had been driving home
from her sister's house after dinner when her car swerved and crashed for no
apparent reason. An ER nurse had been right behind her, and she stopped to
assist, but it was too late. She only had superficial injuries, so the
doctors are suspecting something medical instead of crash-related.
Kelley was the reason I started growing out my hair. A few years back she
got her hair colored and I loved it and was frank in my admiration, but my
hair was way too short to pull it off. On a busy Saturday in December 2007,
I declared right then and there in the Oakdale clinic in front of her that I
was going to grow it out and get it colored just like hers. She laughed and
told me to go for it. I've been growing it out ever since and it's finally
there. Just last week I set an appointment to get it colored, just like
Kelley's.
I wasn't terribly close to Kelley, not as close as a lot of my old coworkers
were. I haven't been there for 18 months now, though anyone who talks with
me knows the clinic is still very much in my heart. But her death has
shaken me, and I miss her. I worked with her for three years. We went out
for beer a few times. I liked working with her. She was sarcastically
hilarious, and was always, always chipper and cheerful. The last time I saw
her was a little over a month ago when I was at the clinic with Dan and
Becky and Shaba...she was the overnight tech who took care of Shaba during
his stay there. I remember that Becky was terribly worried about Shaba and
hated leaving his side, but Kelley helped ease her worries and her heart.
She had a dog named Sudie to whom she was closely bonded. When I realized
last night that Sudie was in the car with her at the time of the crash
(unhurt) and had been at her side even at her death, I lost it all over
again.
I'm 31. I'm supposed to be watching my friends have babies and get married,
not burying them. In the last few years, I've attended more funerals than
weddings, and with the exception of my grandfather they have all been young
and in the flush of life.
Saturday night, it was too awful to wrap my brain around. She was our age,
and in apparent perfect health, and now she's gone, just like that. That
could be you, or me, or someone you love. On Saturday night after I stopped
crying, I drank a beer and watched Family Guy and talked about perspective
and procrastination, and what is ultimately important and ultimately trivial
in our lives. I think she would have liked that. |
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