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A dear friend of mine recently passed away. I forewarned my employer I would most likely need part of a day off to attend my friend's service. I looked online for his obituary without success, then called his brother to find out when the service would be. My friend did not want a service. Instead, his family would gather at a later date to privately mourn their loss. Darn it, this was my loss too. Without a service, it's hard to say good-bye.

Having worked for many years typing obituary notices for the Pine Cone Press-Citizen, I was astonished to see how many people wanted to quietly and non-ceremoniously slip away. I never experienced a loss without some sort of service, until my friend's death. Now I am sad and angry. Not wanting a service is selfish. He was never a selfish man, in fact, he was quite the opposite. Sadly, no one will know that because there wasn't the opportunity to hear a eulogy, read an adequate history of him in an obituary, or memorial folder. It's like he's vanished without a trace.

When my friend was 23, he was the owner of a thriving business in Longville. He hired many teens to help run his business. He was my first boss. I was 12, almost 13 when he hired me. He taught me the basics of being a good employee, and how to take customer service to an exceptionally high level. He welcomed me back into his pool of employees for his seasonal business four years following my initial summer of service. A year or two after I got married and moved out of town, he sold the A&W. From there, he went on to own the Anchorage Inn, a video store, real estate office, and his last endeavor before retirement, Wayne's Corner Store. Whenever I would come to Longville, I would try to find him, sometimes just for a quick hello. He always had a fun memory to share about the old days at the A&W with him, my two sisters who also worked there and I.

After he retired he moved into an apartment right next to the Press-Ciitizen. We could catch up quite often during the warmer months when he spent a great deal of time outside tending to raised flower and vegetable beds. My friend watched over the others who lived behind the doors of the apartment building.

I would like your readers to know how disappointing it is to have someone you know and care for pass away without giving others as chance to say good-bye. Maybe you don't want a church service or large gathering. When others feel the heaviness in their hearts because of a loss, you've already moved on to your Heavenly home. Please consent to having some sort of event for those you leave behind. A picnic, a lunch, a gathering in a field, on the shore of a favorite lake, an establishment you enjoyed going to.

As for my friend, "Beasley," (a name he didn't care much for in the later years of his life) I will always remember how you respected your employees, how you were stubborn yet nice, your chuckle, and the unique ways you found to drum up business on a slow day. You were my boss, but most of all, you were my friend.[[In-content Ad]]

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