Cynical Mom: Awful doesn't begin to describe it

Death is awful enough by itself. The death of someone with far more years ahead of them than behind brings with it a certain type of sadness and loss to the equation. A year ago, I posted about losing a coworker. A few weeks ago, it happened again.

We had just shipped a beta of our product and we were celebrating with a party at a lake. He drowned. His absence was noted a while after he went swimming with a friend. We spent the next hour scouring the beach and the park, hoping against hope that surely he just took off early for the day... then we found his shoes and cellphone.

A marine unit was called, and the divers went in... and soon after, we watched a diver pull his body out of the water. Tiny, limp body. He was a small guy, it was a hot day out... we don't know what happened. "Adults don't drown in still water, that doesn't happen," I told myself. "Everybody knows how to swim these days." They tried to resuscitate him, but it was too late.

The damned news helicopters circled overhead. A cameraman snuck in on land and was starting to take video footage, but a coworker yelled at him and they kicked him off - private property, small blessing.

I watched the news over the weekend as they put together the bits and pieces of his life. This is why I don't watch the news. I don't want to feed the beast.

It was a hot day and there was quite a crowd at the beach, plenty of kids and their parents enjoying the nice summer day. A young girl, probably no more than 12 years old, told the police that she had noticed him struggling while he was swimming at one point, he was slapping the water with his palms. Several sixteen year old girls who were lifeguards for the day went home knowing that someone died on their watch. A hundred other people watched in stony silence. Later on, I found myself becoming very angry at the parents who did not take their children away the instant that it became obvious something was very, very wrong.

His office is next to mine. His machines are still sitting there, locked. He has a desktop background of stonehenge. Days before the party, he said something so nice to me that made me realize that he looked up to me, and I told myself that I really needed to make an effort to get to know him better, to look out for him.

We miss you, Sean.

Comments

KC, I'm so sorry. So tragic, I can't comprehend.

Posted by: Kristin | August 02, 2006 at 08:37 PM

Aww KC. :( I'm so sorry. How awful. I'm just sick for you, and for Sean and his family. What a horrible tragedy. I am really sorry.

I have a feeling this won't help...but being a Smith I have to do this. You know that it's the Summer of Death, right? Uncle Fran. Terry Laundry. Our neighbor 5 doors down (next door to Cindy and Bill). Neighbor was a complete shock, he was only maybe in his 50s. Brain cancer. It was really sudden. Fucking homeowner's association couldn't be bothered to send out something so we knew enough to send our sympathies and offer to bring in hot meals. :(

At any rate, Summer of Death. It needs to be over, it's too much. :( I'm very very very sorry for your loss.

Posted by: Karen | August 02, 2006 at 08:52 PM

Clarification - the term Summer of Death makes me snicker. It's supposed to do that to you too. Even though it's awful and horrible and horrifying and terrifying and all that. It makes me snicker.

Posted by: Karen | August 02, 2006 at 08:53 PM