A season of loss

By JoAnne Young

 

Some of us have spent a lot of hours since January 20, and more than a few between November 5 and the January inauguration lost in worry, bewilderment, fear and even sadness. But accompanying that has been something that has given me perspective. 

 

In December, January, February and March, my husband and I have lost some good friends, good people who deserved to be around longer than they were allowed to be. 

 

When you get to a certain age, deaths seem to multiply, to come in waves. It can happen when you’re younger – the loss of siblings, parents, sometimes friends. But as you get older the departing seems to pick up speed and volume. 

 

I’m thinking today, especially, about Scott’s radio partner for 19 years, Cathy Blythe, who died Saturday morning. A few hours after we heard about that, we had attended the funeral of my long-time editor at the Journal Star, Dave Bundy. 

 

Cathy’s death followed within two weeks of her husband, Wayne Oberg, who died unexpectedly of a heart attack. She had been ill for several months. As a result, their only child lost her mother and father within a very short time. Dave Bundy died at a young age, 57, leaving behind a wife and four adult children who would have loved to have had him stick around to see them, if they chose to get married, give him grandchildren, have adventures to share. 

 

Two other of Scott's former co-workers at KFOR left us in this season of loss. In December, former station manager and good friend Brad Hartman died. In January, the KFOR sports director and dear friend that Scott worked with for 19 years, Chuck Stevens, died. 

A good woman, Pat Lopez, who died in early March, had guided those of us who live in Lancaster County through two harrowing years of the Covid pandemic with grace and thoughtfulness and care. 

 

I will also mention that in December and then in February, Nebraska lost two men who had a deep knowledge of state government and the unicameral Legislature, something sorely needed at this time. Walt Radcliffe, who I was able to consult for background information when I covered the Legislature as a journalist, had what has been described as a “razor sharp wit and searing sense of humor." That knowledge and humor will be missed. Another lobbyist, Herb Schimek, who was a former history teacher and represented Nebraska’s state education association for decades at the Legislature, was known as a friend to teachers. 

 

These were all good, talented people who cared about and added to the lives of their families, friends and workplaces. In many cases that goodness, their inspiring actions and thoughtfulness, extended to people in their communities. They touched lives and left people and places better than when they first encountered them. 

 

So I can’t help but wonder why I think and worry so much these days about the actions of people in Washington, and even a few in our own state, who are constantly up to no good, who think only of themselves and what they want, not the good of the whole. I worry because of the wide-ranging effects they are going to have on so many people who could suffer because of the decisions they make. Ultimately, we are talking about millions of good people. 

 

I have spent a lot of time in these months thinking about the goodness of not only the people who have left us, but those who are still with us, doing good deeds every day,  helping us to move forward through this time, no matter whether their influence is broad or narrow. 

 

Instead of listening to all that is going wrong, my first thoughts every morning should be inspired by those friends we have lost, considering how to help my community, my city, my state and beyond. A worthy goal these days would be to – as Margaret Mead said – add to the sum of accurate information in the world. To push through hard times just as our friends before us did. To let go of any old conflicts that I remember, wipe the slate clean and start over with people. To be understanding and accepting and open-hearted about all of that.

 

One of the most important things is to not wait until our friends, and even those we don’t know as well, are gone to realize all the good they are quietly doing around us.

 

I’m not unplugging from what’s going on. I’m watching and doing what I can to take action. But I’m ready to quiet some of that noise and be inspired by the good, to follow that lead. 

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