An Overdue Goodbye

Back in 1996 I had the pleasure of meeting and getting to know one of the strongest women I've ever met in my life, Jo Taylor. It started when I was, as she said, knee high to a grasshopper. From then until about the time I was 15 we ran across Jo at different Shell stations around the city, and when I was 15 she transferred to one of my dad's stations. She started on the overnight shift and that abruptly ended after she got robbed while working, then she started working the 2nd shift and that's when we started working together.

Most nights were slow and sometimes we talked while other times we didn't. The times we did talk was great. I remember when she would tell me about the times when she was a kid and how much times had changed. I would ask her for advice and she would always be indifferent and always tell me the truth, no matter how much it might have hurt.

Once I quit working there to go to the military we drifted apart a little but we always kept in touch. A phone call every couple of months turned to a call every 6-8 months then turned into once a year. Then it turned into a call from my dad saying she had died back in February.

The last time we talked she had told me she was on dialysis 3 times a week and she had a bout with breast cancer which eventually took her breasts and her life. She told me how proud she was of me and that she always knew that I was capable of great things. I'm not one to say she was right, but it feels like I'm on the right track.

I've been struggling with this the past couple of months because I kept telling myself to call her and it turned into "I'll call her tomorrow." I'm not sure if I'll forgive myself for not calling her while knowing that she was fighting so much in her life. The entire time she was fighting cancer and her kidney's failing she was always upbeat and kept a positive outlook on everything. She fought until she couldn't fight anymore, but she went kept on swinging until her last breath.

I'm sorry that I never got to say a real goodbye Jo, you will be missed.