by Karen Amato Schwartz

Not only was Donna my very first supervisor, she was also 35 years older than I-and my role model. Her zest for life was reflected in her part time career as a clown, her fashionable wardrobe, and a pet monkey. We were sisters under the skin because we both disliked her boss, and since this boss disliked us, we became allies.

Donna commended and defended my work performance with the documentation she made sure to retain, and often debated her boss’s opinions about me. I am forever grateful to Donna for setting my life along its path. For, in my third year, our company initiated an employee management aptitude test. Donna submitted my name because she recognized skills in me that even I didn’t know I had. She felt that I deserved an opportunity, even though it meant exposing herself to wrath and possible ridicule from her boss, should I fail. How could I ever repay her for that selflessness? The only way would be to not let her down, so I didn’t.

My resulting promotion into supervisory and management provided me with the ability to quit after the birth of my first child, laying the foundation that formed the basis for a future writing career. Had I not been blessed with Donna, I may still have been a clerk in that office, these 25 years later.

After I left her department, Donna and I did not kept in touch very often, since our lifestyles were worlds apart and we no longer had the same people and situations in common. But I would think about her as I’d drive by her house, and be strangely comforted by the mop outside of the door: it seemed to represent Donna as the bustling, energetic woman I once knew.

One day I called her. Being over 70, Donna had now retired. Her voice was weaker, but the sparkle was still apparent and she was doing just fine. I had horrible guilt that I should have called earlier, but vowed to call on every birthday. However, I would get so wrapped up in my life, that I would forget. Once again I would drive by and see the mop, smile, promise myself to call, only to fall into the same desparate pattern.

Slowly, Donna’s house fell into disrepair, but since the mop was always there, I knew she was, as well. By now she was in her 80’s, and taking care of the house was probably at the bottom of her priority list. No excuses; I would call that night, I’d tell myself. But again I’d forget. One day when I drove past, her house looked different. It was cleaner, with new paint, doors, and windows. Someone had replaced the doors and windows and landscaped the yard.

There was no longer a mop outside the door.

I wish I would have been more of a friend to someone who made my life more bearable half a lifetime ago. It seems that, if we have the good fortune to live a long life, then we should have the wisdom to realize that people should not be taken for granted. Unfortunately, we tend to focus so much of our energy on getting through each day, that we lose focus on the things that truly matter; such as conversations with those we expect to catch up with at a more convenient time. Sadly, time slips away and people like Donna never find out that we consider them true blessings. I still think of Donna when I drive past the new and improved house, and hope that she now has the peace and happiness that she so richly deserves.