Heather

As you know, I started a new job. It is that job where I didn't get it at first, but then miraculously got it. Turned out that the first secretary/office manager had a falling out with the attorney, and left. She said she would come back in a month, but my boss decided to let her go, (even after ten years), and that's when I was called. At first, Heather had gotten my job because she had more experience, but when the other one left, Heather got hers. I then replaced Heather.

When I first saw Heather, I was shocked. I could tell she was anorexic. She was tiny. She had absolutely no fat on her, anywhere.

Heather died last week. She was only 26 years old.

I worked with her all week, week before last. She cracked me up. She was so funny. She had a funny way of laughing. We talked for 10 to 15 minutes at a time. We took a break this way. She talked of finding someone and having kids, and how she was looking forward to the day off we would get for July 4th. She was very, "American-girl," as well as a, "Daddy's girl." She was an only child. Her perfume was, "Burberry Brit." She had beautiful hair. Her mom is a hairstylist, and of course, did her hair. She was half Chinese, half Japanese. This accounted for her short stature, (and gorgeous hair). She was probably about four foot something. She really was beautiful, but always tired.

We had Monday, (Memorial Day), off, worked all day Tuesday, but when Wednesday came, things started to go wrong. When I got to the office, she wasn't there. She called and told me that she had cracked a tooth the night before, and had to go to the dentist. She went to the dentist, and came in. She wasn't there an hour before she got what she called a migraine. She said that was weird because she didn't get them very often, but she felt like she wanted to cry. She went home. The next morning, she called and told me she felt worse. That didn't sound like my migraines, but some people have the actual attack for days before they get, "the bruise." I told her to get some rest and not to worry.

The next day, Friday, nothing. No call. I called her cell phone and left a message asking her to call us. My boss called me into his office to discuss whether or not she didn't want to be there because she was feeling overwhelmed. She actually had been feeling overwhelmed, and I told him, hoping he would have mercy on her. But I also told him that the day before, she had felt worse, and now she wasn't calling, and that worried me. He told me to call again.

I called again. This time I let her hear my emotions. I asked her to please, please call us now, because we are really just very, very worried. Nothing.

About two o'clock, while my boss is in his office with new clients, I got the call. It was Heather's dad. He said, "This is Heather's dad. Heather's passed . . . she's died," his voice cracking. "I'm waiting for the Police." "What?!!!!! Oh, my God! No!" He said he had come to mow her lawn, saw her car there, and went into the house to find her dead. His little, "Daddy's girl."

We don't know exactly what happened. We are still speculating. The first secretary/office manager has come back, and taken her office back over. She told me Heather told her that she was anemic, and how she always smelled of alcohol. I thought I smelled the alcohol, too. But today, my friend told me that when people are serously anorexic, the sugar in their bodies ferment, or something, and they smell like alcoholics. I think she ultimately had a aneurism or a blood clot, triggered by the dentist. I think she was extremely fragile, and that dentist appointment was just too much.

I had to tell my boss and gather up all her personal effects, last week. Then, today, I had to call her dad to find out where to send flowers and to let him know about her stuff. Her wake and funeral information will be in tomorrow's newspaper. I'm supposed to bring it in to the office. For now, her little bag of stuff is sitting under my desk, and every now and then, I smell her, "Burberry Brit." The silk flower arrangement her mother made for her when she got the promotion, is sitting behind me, by the window, waiting. Waiting to finally go home.

I'm not sure if I'll go to the wake or the funeral. I hate death. It hits me hard. I don't think it would be good for me to go. I barely knew her. But I could tell that I was going to end up really liking her. But, oh well. She had to go. Poor little thing. Maybe she can be Greg's friend until I get there, many, many years from now.

So, goodbye, Heather L. Yee. Thank you very much for the little time we had as friends and for the kindness you showed me. I will pray for your family and for you. May the Lord bless and keep you, forever.