in memoriam

The librarian at one of my schools died a few days ago. I found out when I came into work this morning.

I'm not the best person to eulogize her. We weren't close; friendly acquaintances, maybe, but not friends. I didn't even know she was sick – although that says something about her in itself, I think, that she came into work every day and went about cheerfully shelving the books and chatting with the library patrons right up to the week before she finally succumbed to the terminal illness that had apparently plagued her for several years. Maybe the famed Japanese work ethic wouldn't allow for anything else, but still, that takes strength.

The first time we spoke, I'd come into work despite having the flu and, feeling unable to remain upright much longer, had sneaked off to the library to take a quick nap on the couch. (I, apparently, am not all that strong.) When she discovered me sleeping there, I thought I was about to get into serious trouble – but she just brought me a blanket, and offered me a coffee when I woke up. On my subsequent visits to the library (which were mostly to use it for its intended purpose) we had coffee a few more times; we talked about books, and I answered all the usual questions about myself and my country, my hometown. I never asked her much about herself. Maybe I should have.

We sat next to each other at the morning meeting, largely because that was the way the seating arrangement worked out. She always tried to say something to me, though – simple pleasantries, but more than the mumbled "'morning" that we all give each other as a matter of course. We talked about the weather: "It's cold, isn't it? Is it this cold where you come from?"

It might not have been much, but in a place where I often felt (still feel, really) like an unwanted outsider, to have anyone go out of their way to be friendly meant a lot to me. She was one of the few people at the school to do that on a regular basis. I don't flatter myself that this was because she found my company that interesting – I think that's just the kind of person she was.

I don't know why I'm writing this. I don't know how much interest it can possibly hold for anyone else. I'm not fishing for condolences. I think those are better saved for her family and friends, the people dealing with a larger absence than simply an empty chair in the conference room and a space behind the library checkout desk.

I guess I just want to be sure that I don't forget.