Farewell My Friend

"LoriAnn, I have some very sad news to share." Deep down, you're already aware that what follows will not be easy to hear.

The news was indeed very sad. It was undeniably sorrowful. My dear friend Terri, who is also the wife of my beloved friend and former colleague, Byron, had the painful task of informing me that Byron had unexpectedly passed away. The news hit me with the force of a cruel blow, and a chilling numbness swept over my entire body. I found myself screaming in disbelief as if my denial could somehow rewrite the reality before me. Byron's passing has left me utterly devastated and heartbroken. He was only 47, departing painfully too soon and leaving an already irrefutable void. 

Byron was my former HR leader from my time at McGladrey. He was a mentor, guide, friend, and a truly exceptional human being. Working under his leadership was a privilege and so much fun. He possessed the remarkable ability to recognize talent and skills within me that I hadn't yet discovered. He boldly pushed me into the necessary scary and uncomfortable places, with the intention of shaping me into the HR and talent acquisition leader I am today. He was one of the first leaders to give me wingspan and the freedom to explore and excel, while also offering a safety net should I stumble. Through his own example, he taught me the noble act of falling on the sword for my team, and he also knew when to rein me in if I got out in front of myself. He affectionately nicknamed me "Fireball," - emblematic of my unyielding determination. Every so often I'd hear him utter, "Hold on there, Fireball. Let's take a step back and walk through this slowly." He’d then guide me with compassion and grace.

Byron's sense of fairness was unwavering, and his ethical standards set the benchmark for HR excellence. A significant portion of my leadership persona was molded under his tutelage.

What truly elevated our connection was that he and his family became a loving extension of my own. He assumed the roles of big brother and mentor to my son. Our interactions transcended the professional realm, as we shared life's experiences, fun-filled family get-togethers with abundant laughter, and ceaselessly uplifted one another. He and his family loved, I mean LOVED, my chocolate chip banana bread. And I was all too willing to bake countless batches of it for them.

In light of all this, Byron faced a myriad of struggles and inner demons, engaging in a frequent and intimate dance with them. Our conversations often delved into the battles he fought. I mention this as a testament to the intricate tapestry of human experiences and the multi-dimensional nature of him and our friendship. In a heartfelt conversation with a friend, I tearfully expressed my profound anger over how his demons ultimately prevailed, silencing him forever. This tribute serves as a voice for him, and to break the tragic silence that has befallen him and those who held him dear. 

Our last exchange occurred a few weeks prior to his passing after a call he had with my son, and his final message resonates deeply within me:

"Hey - not that you need my reassurance, but your son is amazing. You've done an incredible job, Mom. We had a meaningful talk about the writer's strike. He's an inspiration to me, and you built him from the ground up. Thank you for bringing him into our lives and sharing him with us. He is truly a gift. Love you." ♥️

My response echoed gratitude for the sentiment and concluded with "Love you. XOXO." ♥️

I've revisited the entire history of our text exchanges countless times, cycling through moments of laughter and tears. The solace lies in the fact that our last words to each other were ones of inspiration and affection, and concluded with a heart emoji. Just like so many times before, they were infused with love and the essence of a beautiful and tender friendship.

My heart is a mixture of love and heartache. The memories I've shared with Byron are treasures I will forever hold close. My thoughts are with Terri, and his children, as they grapple with the absence of their beloved father and husband.

I'm left with a profound sense of loss and devastation and completely shattered. Coming to terms with Byron's passing and the realization that our exchanges—conversations, emails, texts, and get-togethers—have reached an irrevocable conclusion is a process I will forever be navigating. I'm striving to comprehend the depths of this loss as well as extend comfort to my son.

The weight of it all is overwhelming, a poignant reminder of the imperative to be wholly present, to embrace life in its entirety, to release trivial matters, to quickly forgive, to hug longer and tighter, and to love deeply the individuals who grace our lives. It's a call to transcend our self-imposed barriers, quiet the ceaseless chatter of our minds, and relentlessly embrace the beauty of each day we are granted on this amazing journey we call life.

Here's to you, my dear friend. Thank you for the beautiful and invaluable lessons you've taught me. For the camaraderie, affection, and laughter you so generously offered. Thank you for the countless engaging, candid, and vulnerable heartfelt conversations as we sought answers to our shared burdens. You were my brother, my friend, my confidant. Your name is etched upon my heart, and you will forever occupy a special place in my life. Both Stephen and I are committed to standing by Terri and the children, supporting them as they grieve your absence and move forward in a world without you. In due course, we will share stories of our time with you, ensuring your memory lives on.

For now, my friend, the time has come for you to finally and fully embrace peace and gracefully dance among the angels.

Love and miss you!