Nothing could have prepared me...
I've known since January that my friend Margarita was leaving. I took it upon myself to be there for her as much as possible after her husband went to Miami in February to start job hunting. I spoiled her rotten because I felt like it, checked in with her nearly every weekday to make sure she was doing okay, gave her all kinds of moral support when she was down, took her out for lunch without expectation of that being reciprocated because I knew her financial situation was shaky, brought gourmet coffee to the office to share with her, and in general treated her like a little sister. And I grew to love her like a little sister too. I really did. And I told her more than once that I considered her as such.
Her husband found the job he was seeking, and once he got his start date set, Margarita worked out her two weeks notice. Today was her last day, and after a weekend to rest and a day to tie up loose business ends, she's leaving Tuesday morning for Miami, arriving just in time to celebrate her birthday. She told me it'll be the most awesome birthday present ever.
I took one last opportunity to spoil her rotten earlier this week -- took her out to dinner, gave her a couple of pairs of earrings and a card with a very long and heartfelt message inside, and also a sheet of paper with lyrics to a really beautiful farewell song that some friends of mine recorded years ago.
Tonight a few people from the office (mostly from her department) had a group dinner for her, and I asked her supervisor if it was okay to tag along, which it was, and I also asked Margarita if she minded me crashing the party, and she said it would be awesome. And so we had dinner at an Indian restaurant downtown. I was such a wreck all day that my stomach wasn't overly happy, and hahaha...guess who ordered curry and told them to make it medium? I think next time I'll order it mild...couldn't eat very much of my plate, but really, I was there for the company. It felt a little stilted at first because I don't know some of the women in that department very well and none of us were drinking, not to mention our head boss was there, but after awhile things got more relaxed, and Margarita was beaming because she's SO HAPPY to finally be rejoining her husband and dog and , and she got on a roll, and we all ended up lingering for a good long time at the restaurant.
Then came the hard part...it just happened to work out that I was last in the "hug line," and when she got to me, I threw my arms around her and said, "Hey, Little Sis, I love you, I really do, I just love you," and started crying, and she said, "I know you do...please don't cry." And I pulled myself together and told her to have a safe trip, a happy birthday, and a wonderful future....and that I wasn't going to say goodbye because I'm pretty sure I'll see her again. I can't remember what she said, but I believe that's pretty much established anyway...we have each other's e-mails, phone numbers, and are FB friends, and her husband had already given me a standing invitation should I be in the area, and his mom and sister live here in Asheville, so they'll be up here visiting at some point...so as I said, I didn't say goodbye. I told her to give her husband and dog hugs for me, and thanked her for putting up with my craziness (I mean...I didn't intend to cry, and I am totally NOT used to telling my friends I love them...that was quite spontaneous, and I'm a little embarrassed, to tell you the truth).
Anyway...we all scattered once we got outside the restaurant. I think Margarita was heading to the left. I was parked a couple of blocks away in a parking garage so walked across the street with someone else and we talked for a few minutes before I headed to my car. Pretty much as soon as I pulled out of the parking deck, I started crying and didn't really dry up entirely for about the next hour.
It's hard to fathom that I've sent my last "Hola, do you want some café?" e-mail downstairs and won't be able to ask her anymore if her day is "loquisimo" and won't have any more impromptu gabfests in the office kitchen. Yes, we'll keep in touch, but it won't be the same not having her around.
I feel like a piece of my heart got ripped out.
Her husband found the job he was seeking, and once he got his start date set, Margarita worked out her two weeks notice. Today was her last day, and after a weekend to rest and a day to tie up loose business ends, she's leaving Tuesday morning for Miami, arriving just in time to celebrate her birthday. She told me it'll be the most awesome birthday present ever.
I took one last opportunity to spoil her rotten earlier this week -- took her out to dinner, gave her a couple of pairs of earrings and a card with a very long and heartfelt message inside, and also a sheet of paper with lyrics to a really beautiful farewell song that some friends of mine recorded years ago.
Tonight a few people from the office (mostly from her department) had a group dinner for her, and I asked her supervisor if it was okay to tag along, which it was, and I also asked Margarita if she minded me crashing the party, and she said it would be awesome. And so we had dinner at an Indian restaurant downtown. I was such a wreck all day that my stomach wasn't overly happy, and hahaha...guess who ordered curry and told them to make it medium? I think next time I'll order it mild...couldn't eat very much of my plate, but really, I was there for the company. It felt a little stilted at first because I don't know some of the women in that department very well and none of us were drinking, not to mention our head boss was there, but after awhile things got more relaxed, and Margarita was beaming because she's SO HAPPY to finally be rejoining her husband and dog and , and she got on a roll, and we all ended up lingering for a good long time at the restaurant.
Then came the hard part...it just happened to work out that I was last in the "hug line," and when she got to me, I threw my arms around her and said, "Hey, Little Sis, I love you, I really do, I just love you," and started crying, and she said, "I know you do...please don't cry." And I pulled myself together and told her to have a safe trip, a happy birthday, and a wonderful future....and that I wasn't going to say goodbye because I'm pretty sure I'll see her again. I can't remember what she said, but I believe that's pretty much established anyway...we have each other's e-mails, phone numbers, and are FB friends, and her husband had already given me a standing invitation should I be in the area, and his mom and sister live here in Asheville, so they'll be up here visiting at some point...so as I said, I didn't say goodbye. I told her to give her husband and dog hugs for me, and thanked her for putting up with my craziness (I mean...I didn't intend to cry, and I am totally NOT used to telling my friends I love them...that was quite spontaneous, and I'm a little embarrassed, to tell you the truth).
Anyway...we all scattered once we got outside the restaurant. I think Margarita was heading to the left. I was parked a couple of blocks away in a parking garage so walked across the street with someone else and we talked for a few minutes before I headed to my car. Pretty much as soon as I pulled out of the parking deck, I started crying and didn't really dry up entirely for about the next hour.
It's hard to fathom that I've sent my last "Hola, do you want some café?" e-mail downstairs and won't be able to ask her anymore if her day is "loquisimo" and won't have any more impromptu gabfests in the office kitchen. Yes, we'll keep in touch, but it won't be the same not having her around.
I feel like a piece of my heart got ripped out.