Remember Nancy Bollaert

If the title seems to be a bit of an exhortation, it is. Even if you did not know her, I want you to remember her. 


Her name was Nancy Bollaert. She worked at the State Bar of California fo many years. She was about to retire on December 9, looking forward to a new chapter. But she never got there. She died four days before the page could be turned  It is not fair. So maybe I am trying to eke some small earthbound fairness out of what seems unredeemably tragic and even though I believe in my heart of hearts that she has seen God and is in Safe Hands and is the recipient of a Divine fairness. 


I don't like the fact that this gentle woman is not here anymore, with us, to meet and to know better.


You know, as we pass each other by in familiar places, day after day, we get the illogical idea that it will always be thus. I am very busy today, but I can get to know you tomorrow.  Except that isn't true. Today may be the very last opportunity. 


This is what I think I know. I know that she was single and lived alone in an apartment off Sunset Boulevard. I only know that because back when the bus strike happened, I drove her and another Bar staffer to work for abotu a month. I remember laughing a lot on the way and I remember being touched at the thank you book card they gave me. She died, alone, in that apartment of causes not yet revealed. I only recently learned that she had siblings out of state. She never married and had no children. She worked day after day at her job as a secretary, and never complained.  More than that, she was kind and courteous to anyone she passed in the hallway. If you needed help in the office, she'd offer it. Her best work friend was Warren, and it was Warren who did a simple but deep eulogy for his friend at a memorial mass I was privileged to attend.  I knew about the candy dish she kept supplied at the edge of her desk. I often dipped into its wares and thought, "what a nice person to do that", and may have even thanked her once or twice.


It isn't much what I know. I think there was a great deal more to have known about the little girl in the black and white pictures that her sister let one of our colleagues copy. They are photos of a little baby, a child standing by a couch in a prim and proper dress of that generation (we are only a few years apart). An awkward teenager smiles out hopefully for a future yet to unfold.


What did she wish for? Whom did she love? What did she believe about life and death?  I have no idea.  I hope there is someone out there who is thinking about those things about Nancy. I heard she was happy about her upcoming retirement. She was a reader of mysteries I heard also, and she was going to read to her heart's content.


You know the moral of this story. Do what you are going to do, now, before it is too late as it will surely be. Care about the others in your lives--because soon you may not have the chance. Cherish the moments you have spent with someone--there are none too small.  Learn more about them. Everyoone has profound stories.


If you pray, pray for Nancy constantly. Talk to her every so often. I think she's listening and cares about her family, friends and acquaintances, even now. She touched some lives. That was her purpose.


And if you know more of her, have stories of her, share them with one another. Remember her as long as you have breath. 

And for those of you who did not know her, a special soul passed this way and if you could give her a thought or a quick prayer of your own, it would be nice. What are we but all passengers in the same cosmic boat?