I guess the the only thing for the surrealism of Victor’s death to actually sink in is when we saw his name on the bulletin board at the funeral home. There, in bold blue pentel pen ink, was his full name and we suddenly lost all our energy after seeing it– it was like we have been running all our lives and we instantly stopped for a breather to look at this bulletin. It was obscene as if that shouldn’t be there in the first place.
We all went up and met people from the other callcenter where Victor’s wife worked. The tension was soo thick it would be an understatement to say that it can be cut with a knife. They were all staring at us as if we don’t belong there orrrrr…. I was just paranoid. Hey, there has always been an ongoing rivalry between all centers what does this situation make it any different.
I saw Victor’s wife who was bawling in the corner surrounded with her friends and we came up to her saying that we worked with Victor. She just stared at us and I wondered if her constant crying made her tune out all forms of noise but she nodded with acknowledgment. Great. I don’t know but her face says anything but welcome. It was like she was keeping herself from lashing at us and saying, “Now you’re thinking its my fault. Come on, I know you are thinking it!”
But we’re not judging anyone because no one has been able to find out why… yet. I wanted to to tell her how much Victor was at work, how friendly he was, how out of character his actions were, how he touched other people’s lives — but looking at her made my confidence waver.
The walk to Victor’s coffin was uneasy because I felt anytime now someone is going to throw rocks at us which made it confusing because we, after all, are the ones who knew Victor better than his wife’s friends yet the atmosphere was so hostile I was so ready to leave the place anytime someone says “Let’s Go!”
Then we saw him.
I almost swayed. Rj shook and started breaking down. Jo an clutched Richard’s shoulders for support. The rest closed their eyes and opened them again thinking the image of Victor lying there immobile would go away. But it didn’t. There he was, lying, eyes closed, hands clasped on his stomach. Sleeping. Peaceful.
What could have been his last thoughts before he left? What could be the last thing he saw?
Victor, no one will ever understand but we hope you found the peace that you were looking for.
Sileo in pacis.