The university where I work has a ban on major papers and exams during the final week of classes (the week before final exams) and for this reason it is called “Dead Week”. Not all professors honor it, but most do.
The associate dean of my department is a lady I saw often on smoke breaks. She was very nice and though we most certainly weren’t super close or buddy-buddy we did talk about personal things and the like upon occasion. Thursday we went to lunch with a sales rep for a major database company and had a really good time as the only two smokers in the bunch talking about favorite vacation spots and books and the like. On Friday when I told her to have a nice weekend she told me she was going dancing with a friend. (This is a lady of perhaps 60 and in good health.)
Tonight my boss called me. The associate dean went to the club, danced, had a good time and while on the dance floor suffered- something- and died. It was a very fast and totally unexpected thing. There’s to be an autopsy- it sounds like an aneurism or perhaps a stroke. Literally, one minute she was dancing and the next she was in a coma from which she never woke. Awful and truly shocking and just one of those “WtF! She wasn’t old and she seemed happy and in good health… WTF! WTFWTF!?” shockers.
I’m not going to overestimate how close we were. She wasn’t a bosom buddy or somebody I ever once saw outside of work (other than the business lunch at a restaurant last Thursday if that counts) but I liked her when I spoke with, she was fair as a boss (she’s my boss’s boss so I didn’t deal with her that often, but when I did she was very “open door policy” and treated you as an equal, no power tripping or the like) and just all around nice lady and one minute she’s healthy and the next she’s dead and just… damn. (Very sudden deaths are the worst on survivors- it will take you years to get it through your mind that they’re not coming back.)
Anyway, though I didn’t know her terribly well on the personal level I liked her, she seemed a genuinely good person, I will miss seeing her on smoke breaks (no “sign you should stop smoking” comments please, I’m way ahead of you) and my heart goes out to her family, who I don’t know personally but who I do know meant the world to her. And I do not make light of her death in any way.
We have a friend in common, a former boss of mine that I really liked who was a former classmate/colleague of hers. I sent her an e-mail telling he about the death. The death just became public knowledge yesterday and no obituary has been prepared so for the e-mail to our friend I did a google news search of her name to see if perhaps an obituary has been published online (google news searches small town and college papers as well so it was worth a shot). There’s not one. Only one mentioning of her came up, that from the school paper.
In which the following quote is made by her in an interview about the library’s decision to remain open 24/7 this week and next:
“I’m pleased to announce there will be something different about this Dead/Final Week.”
I am totally going to hell for laughing at this but to quote Capote, “sometimes there’s God”. I do so love tragicomic irony in the face of a shocking announcement.
Rather reminds me of my father, a man who was so well known and respected for his eloquence and his oratorical skills that he was flown all over the nation to perform eulogies and the Masonic rites for people he’d never met, who was literally nicknamed “Sterling” for his silver tongue and called “Professor” by everybody for his ability and willingness to quote Poe or Tennyson or Whitman or most any great 19th century poet at any or (more likely) no provocation, a man so legendary for his grandiloquence of style that politicians asked him to introduce them when they spoke in his state, a man whose last words on Earth were when he poked his head out of a bathroom door and asked “You wanna take a dump in here before I flush it?” (Our house was on an electric well and the power was off due to a snow storm and the toilets each had one flush left, after which the toilet would not refill due to the absence of power, and he had already used it and obviously wanted to flush if it wasn’t needed, so it wasn’t quite as country a question as it sounded- I didn’t, he flushed, he crawled into bed with me [we shared a bed because without power the house was freezing] and he never woke up. When my sister asked me what his last words were, I lied.
Anyway, none of this is to minimize the loss of the lady- again and again, she was a very nice lady and I genuinely liked her and will miss her. But that was so damned unexpected as to command ironic dark laughter, or as Christopher Marlowe once said, “That right unto there be-eth funny, I care not who thou art”.