Thanks For The Memories

My last day of work was more emotion than I thought. Many different feelings were swirling inside of me. On the surface, I knew that I was going to miss many of the people that I’ve worked with for the last four years. I’m going to miss my friend, Hugo and our insanely sophomoric lunchroom banter. The famous “Would Ya!” game will probably meet a slow death, too.

I’m going to miss my friend, Ray and his good humor with me. Not to mention, his amazing ability to break out in broadway tunes at any moment. I’m going to miss Danielle and her wry sense of humor and besides, I always knew that she would laugh at anything I would say. I thank her for that.

I’m going to miss by “brotha”, Nato from downstairs. He is, without a doubt, one of the most kindest person that I have ever met. I look forward to his kindness in the future when he invites me over for one of his amazing barbeques. Plus, he always says my mom is a “babe”.

I’m going to miss my buddy Alan and his simple but dead-on impressions of everyone in our department. Count them: “Oh, Oh, Oh, this dude...”, “Hey man! D-D-D-D-D”, “Okaaaayyy.....”, “I zont zink zo” and “Hey now...”. I wish him good luck.

Aside from saying goodbye to so many good people, leaving the bank effectively ended a tumulteous time in my life. It was at this building that I spent the last meaningful moments with my sister.

Suzie started working as a teller at the bank in October of 2001. We rode BART together every morning and frequently met for lunch. I remember being so proud that my little sister was working in the same building as I and so happy to see me two nephews visit the bank on Christmas Eve. They still remember it and continued to visit after her death.

When she died I feared a time in the future when I would move into a new life that had no connection to her whatsoever. The fear was that I would be losing a part of her. I think my decision to leave the bank and attend school will effectively end one living reminder of her. I realize it must happen sooner than later but it still saddened me.

One memory that will stick with me forever is this: On what would be the end her last day of work, I waited for her in the lobby of the bank as I typically did. We walked down the steps on Market Street that lead to the BART station underground as usual. She did something different this time. Just as we took the first step downwards, she held my hand. We were very close siblings, but grabbing my held was out of the ordinary. We walked down the stairs holding hands and have always wondered whether she sensed her demise and was thanking me.

On Friday night, I walked down the same stairs to the BART station looking towards a new life.