We have all done it: written on a white board (well, maybe not ALL of us). What we write there is often simply a place holder, sometimes a joke, a lesson, and sometimes an idea for the future. But everything we record there is expected to be ultimately erased.
At work, I keep a 3-month calendar on a white board so the sales crew can see where the demo fleet is at any given time. When a month comes to an end, I clean the calendar, slide it across the board behind the others and put on the dates of a far off month. It's worked well for us this summer as the demo program has grown almost exponentially.
Several months ago, Anthony and I stood at the wall and made notes on upcoming festivals, trips and plans for where he would be going. We made plans for the Yeti Tribe Gathering in Winter Park. I have a vivid memory of seeing him there as he wrote in the dates for the Gathering...and then he proceeded to underline it.
He often would "pencil" in his trips as he began his plans. And his writing was vastly different from my scrawl, one could always tell where he had started and I had left off.
July was the final month he had written in plans for. At work today, I began to make the switch for that whiteboard calendar to shift another month. I stood there with eraser in hand but I could not bring myself to wipe out what he had last written for us. I'm lucky no one passed by at that moment as I found tears in my eyes as I was torn between the demands of work and the memories of a lost friend.
I put away the eraser today. Unused. I sat at my desk for a good while in wonderment. It seems so sudden that someone can be pulled out our lives and no longer exist in our physical realm. I struggle, even now as I refuse to let his memory fade, how to erase those simple words he had written. I just doesn't feel right wiping away another memory.
I know tomorrow I'll have to look at my whiteboard again. I know that I will have to pick up that eraser and wipe away Anthony's words. And I know it will not be his memory I'm wiping away, only words written in dry ink with the expectation that they would ultimately be erased as we continue to make new plans for our ever changing future.
At work, I keep a 3-month calendar on a white board so the sales crew can see where the demo fleet is at any given time. When a month comes to an end, I clean the calendar, slide it across the board behind the others and put on the dates of a far off month. It's worked well for us this summer as the demo program has grown almost exponentially.
Several months ago, Anthony and I stood at the wall and made notes on upcoming festivals, trips and plans for where he would be going. We made plans for the Yeti Tribe Gathering in Winter Park. I have a vivid memory of seeing him there as he wrote in the dates for the Gathering...and then he proceeded to underline it.
He often would "pencil" in his trips as he began his plans. And his writing was vastly different from my scrawl, one could always tell where he had started and I had left off.
July was the final month he had written in plans for. At work today, I began to make the switch for that whiteboard calendar to shift another month. I stood there with eraser in hand but I could not bring myself to wipe out what he had last written for us. I'm lucky no one passed by at that moment as I found tears in my eyes as I was torn between the demands of work and the memories of a lost friend.
I put away the eraser today. Unused. I sat at my desk for a good while in wonderment. It seems so sudden that someone can be pulled out our lives and no longer exist in our physical realm. I struggle, even now as I refuse to let his memory fade, how to erase those simple words he had written. I just doesn't feel right wiping away another memory.
I know tomorrow I'll have to look at my whiteboard again. I know that I will have to pick up that eraser and wipe away Anthony's words. And I know it will not be his memory I'm wiping away, only words written in dry ink with the expectation that they would ultimately be erased as we continue to make new plans for our ever changing future.
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