People in our lives die all the time. Particularly as we get a little older. It may be something we grow more accustom to but that doesn’t mean it gets any easier. We may become familiar with the pain but that isn’t the same thing as being numb to it.
It’s always difficult but it’s a little more difficult when you know you are losing one of the good ones. One of the people who genuinely made your life better. Someone you’d remember fondly for the rest of your days even if you never saw them again. Someone who could still bring a smile to your face years after the last time you saw their face.
Rory Smith was one of those people. I worked with him for fifteen years. Some of us worked with him for thirty years and some of us may have only worked with him for thirty weeks but none of us will ever forget him. Ever.
He lived in the country and you could tell he only came to the city because he had to. He always seemed to have the most beautiful dog and as much as we loved Rory and Rory may have loved some of us, it was clear to me that his dogs were always his best friends.
Maybe because they had so much in common. Honest and loyal. There was no pretense. No bullshit. What you got was the real deal and that’s rare in this world.
Rory kind of seemed like a guy from another time to me. He was a bit older than me but not much. Sometimes it can make all the difference though. And as sad it is for me that he has left his family and his friends and his best friend, his dog, I’d like to think that Rory isn’t just of another time anymore. I’d like to think he’s timeless. R.I.P old friend.