Change Is Hard

This morning we learned that one of our co-workers drowned over the weekend.  He sat across the aisle from me, and he and I underwrote jumbo loans, so we collaborated a lot as the program started up and we worked through the first submissions.  We bounced ideas off of each other every day, right up till last Friday.

He was twenty-eight.  A smart young man, he majored in accounting at Michigan State.  We talked about which accounting class was the most difficult for each of us.   We agreed that it was tax accounting and we laughed together at the fact that these days we spend a majority of our time pouring over people’s tax returns.  We talked about real estate a lot; and whenever one or the other of us ran across a particularly beautiful or particularly odd home we’d call the other over to take a look.  Friday afternoon I heard him tell someone that one of the only good things about underwriting jumbo loans was the opportunity to see some truly great houses.

Josh wasn’t always the most prompt employee, but he wasn’t usually more than 15 minutes late.  And he always called if he wasn’t coming in.  So after about 40 minutes when our boss had called back to see if he was in yet I began to worry.  We decided to wait another 30 minutes, then call him at home and wake him up.  We figured we’d tease him about partying too much over the weekend.  We laughed a little at the thought.

You know how you always think the worst has happened when someone doesn’t show up like normal?  And how it’s never that, there’s always some mundane reason why they aren’t where they’re supposed to be?  Well this time the worst happened.  And the world is  minus one very smart, very funny, very patient young man who will never get married, never have kids, never play golf with his brothers or fish with his Dad again.

Josh was a smart young man with a great future.  Josh was also a young man who drank too much at a party and wandered away into the dark alone.   So I’m conflicted.  Early in the morning I was devastated and sad and confused and feeling that life was unfair.  As the day progressed excruciatingly slowly, and we learned more I began to feel the first vestiges of anger.  Because this was so ridiculously stupid.  So not necessary.  So preventable.  We all know not to drink and drive.  But do people recognize they shouldn’t drink and walk?  Alone in the dark in an unfamiliar place?

I don’t know.  I’m exhausted.  I can’t fix all things that are wrong in the world.  And this is just so wrong.  On so many levels.

I’m going to miss my jumbo buddy.  He taught me a lot of good sound underwriting fundamentals.  I wish I could have taught him some good sound thought processes in other areas of his life.  All I can do now is hope he’s living in one of those grand mansions we drooled over.  And that someone can learn a lesson from the tragedy that is Josh’s final story.

Drinking until you’re stupid is life threatening.  Don’t be stupid.  Because those of us left behind – family, friends, even co-workers – just don’t know how to think about stupid when we’re so very sad on the inside.