ajlovestolose.com

I didn’t want to lose a co-worker.

But I did.

Monday.

A man I didn’t know at all personally, but had a working relationship with, suddenly died of a stroke.

He was only 38 years old.

I was shocked to hear of his death. Shocked. I had just met with him the week before, and was actually getting ready to ask him if he would be willing to take on another role as my primary manager.

But what I what really shocked me was his life outside of work.

He was an activist. He had run for public office. He was a local celebrity. He was known by hundreds of people as someone who could get something, anything, done.

What shocked me was I only knew him as Allen, the really cool guy who offers up great ideas, gets his work done fast, is a great writer and is fun to talk to at work.

What shocked me was his love of the outdoors and how much he seemed to LIVE his life.

I had no idea.

I know I work in an office of 400 people, he was pretty new to the company, I just moved here and it is hard to make a personal connection with everyone, but if someone had asked me about Allen, I would have said  “yeah, I know him – he’s cool.”

But I didn’t know him. Not at all.

It’s seems weird to say, but for some reason losing someone not-close-to-me is strangely hard.

I knew him, but I didn’t.

Not because it impacts my work, but because… I don’t actually know why.

I don’t feel comfortable putting something up on his public Facebook page.

I don’t know his partner; I just can’t email his family my thoughts and prayers.

I can’t put into words how I feel.

Thank you, internet, for letting me grieve in my own way.

Here; in my “anonymous” safe place.

Rest in Peace, Allen.