Goodbyes

Dear Maureen and Shara,

Writers of eulogies and commencement addresses (and wedding toasts, come to think of it) often make the same mistake: we use the lens of the event we’re ostensibly discussing to talk about ourselves. Instead of speaking volumes about the departed or the happy couple, we talk about what they mean to us. (Sometimes, sisters of brides, this is really boring.) It’s cheap! And I will try to strike a good balance.

Any goodbye note to you is a combination of these three speeches: a eulogy for your time here at HRF – you are departing and we will miss you more than we can quite grasp right now (though you probably have some idea); a commencement address, as you go off into the great big world, ready for the next thing, but without the comforts you’ve grown accustomed to (i.e. morning meetings with me); and a wedding toast - even though this is a sort of dissolution of your marriage in some sense, in another way it’s an opportunity for us all to express how we feel about you, and how we wish you well.

You may no longer put human rights first, but I bet they’ll be pretty high up on your priorities lists anyway. Like, second? Close second. You will be missed here, you know. That’s the only way to say it, in the passive voice. Collectively, sharply, you will be missed. Hard to imagine this place without you, but you’ve prepared us well for the next steps – we hope. Due to your influence, I’m tempted to list accomplishments, measurable outcomes attained (and measured!) – they are legion. But I hope the one-pagers you are preparing on yourselves hint at the quieter but grander project you’ve been at work on here. Shaping, positively, the every day experience of this complicated, flawed, wonderful place. You were thoughtful, strategic, enthusiastic, organized, and your millions of decisions made this place function, hum along day-to-day. I think your kindness and professionalism helped all of us be a little kinder, a little more organized, a little more strategic.

We made a great team, by the way. Maureen, I am sorry not everybody here had a chance to see you be goofy. Because it happens, and it is hilarious. Thank you for taking a chance on me, and letting me be generally far too goofy. Shara, thank you for making our team complete, bringing your humor and steadfast reasonableness to our table every morning. And for being my friend as well as my champion.

What a unique place I found myself in within the organization, friendly with everyone, bearer of bad news, portal to the boss. Sometimes I joked that I felt like the child of divorce that I am, caught between the staff and the management at the top, not part of either world. Truth is, you never made it difficult for me, never made me choose sides, never made me compromise a thing. Thank you for making a space for me here for me to just be myself, for letting me become a part of the spirit of this place.

So, this is your graduation. It’s the end of an era, for you, for HRF. The task before you, as before all graduates, is to figure out what you love to do. Go forth, my friends, save the world, try to laugh a lot. Be goofy. Don’t worry too much about HRF – we’ll be okay.

In closing, something totally apropos (though I’m only 70% as sappy as a fictional character.) Final episode of Mary Tyler Moore, and everyone is leaving WJM, saying goodbye. As those of you who were alive in 1977 will recall, Mary has this to say:
“I just wanted you to know that sometimes I get concerned about being a career woman. I get to thinking my job is too important to me, and I tell myself that the people I work with are just the people I work with. And not my family. And last night, I thought, 'what is a family, anyway'? They're just people who make you feel less alone and really loved. And that's what you've done for me. Thank you for being my family.”

Thank you for being my family, guys.

Carly.

Not quite a summer anthem, but a song for long drives is this, both happy and sad at the same time, nostalgia-inducing but with value beyond nostalgia, is Paul Simon’s Graceland. Everybody feels the wind blow…