Last weekend I lost a friend and mentor. Rudi was a wise man who I first met in 1989. We were both in Toastmasters. He was in the local leadership and was helpful when we were starting our club.
Our friendship started in 1991 when he took me under his wing and I became his Sargent-at-Arms when he was the leader. It was an education for me as I learned more about the local organization and life in general. Rudi was my guide and confidante. He was always forwarding advice about public speaking and leadership.
Several years ago, I put out a call for assistance in helping a club I was working with. Rudi was the only person who answered my call.
He was full of compassion and integrity. He was ethical, moral and always took the high road. This is what he imparted upon me.
It had been several years since I saw him. We did keep in touch via social media. I enjoyed his witty retorts. He referenced himself as a grumpy old man. This could not have been further from the truth. I miss him already.
Even before hearing of my friends passing I was feeling depleted with low energy. September stirs up memories for me. Memories of loved ones. Three years ago my Aunt June died. She was wise and intelligent. A goldsmith by trade, well read, well versed. Her dugout (yes her dugout) in central Australia was covered with books, movies and sources of wisdom. I loved visiting, we would spend hours talking. Het town mined 70% of the world's opals. It was full of characters chasing their dreams of striking it rich. Or in some cases it was a good place to escape to or from.
Two years ago, my partner's mother died. Lil was special, a survivor in every sense of the word. She loved her family and welcomed me with open arms into her family. When life would put her backwards, she would find a way to take two steps forward. I was her sweetheart.
Why am I sharing about recent deaths? Rightly or wrongly I have a morbid fascination with death. I read obituaries every day. Death affects me a lot. It takes a part of my soul, my fabric. I start thinking about my own mortality. What will my obituary say? Can I measure up to other people? Who will come to my celebration of life? Who will speak at it?
Whenever someone I know dies my depression makes me feel not worthy enough. I want to be more confident in my own life and abilities. I do not want to judge myself against other people. If I can get to this point than I can truly celebrate life and cherish past memories.
I continue to be a work in progress...
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