To tell you the truth, I collect people.
I can’t help it. I love you all too much to let go.
I don’t hoard my treasure like a dragon. I fling it into the sky and share it with everyone.
You all are my stars. You light up my life. You glow and I cannot help but lift my face and glow back at you.
When I make a change – move on to a whole new group of people – the world goes dim. It feels small, lonely. I am afraid of the dark. But as I get to know new people, little lights shine around me. You guide me and comfort me, just by being there.
I embrace you so fully that I usually assume (often wrongly) that if I’m connected to two of you the same way, you’ll know each other. I delight in connecting you, and discovering hidden connections I never knew. I draw constellations of you.
If you lose some of your glow, reach out a hand. I’ll bounce back some of the shine you’ve given me. And by the miracle that is life, I’ll end up having more than I started with anyway. A glow just for you burns on in my heart.
My brain is funny about names. It takes a while to learn them. Not just the old in-one-ear-out-the-other, which I do sometimes. I usually need last names in order to make first names stick. Once it sticks, I have your name for years and years.
Except. There are a small number of names that elude me every time. Sometimes people I see on a daily basis. It’s always the same people. Please don’t ask me if you’re one of them (you’re probably not). I’d say it’s nothing personal, but how much more personal could anything be? It’s not intentional and has nothing to do with how I feel about you. Just a burned-out transistor that won’t hold a charge. Sorry!
Whether I’ve got your name or not, I know your face. I know what general things we did together – projects or products or teams, even decades back. I recall the feel of working or talking or playing with you. You ever twinkle in my sky. When I see you again, we both glow.
Keep shining, my friends.