When I was 16 years old, I began working as a banquet server in a beautiful old building. The surrounding area featured a waterfall, a gazebo and loads of nature. It was a lot of fun seeing people get married. Unfortunately, I never learned how to carry three plates and could not memorize table or seat numbers. It did not take long for my manager to realize my talents were better utilized far back in the building.
I stopped working weddings and strictly worked on Sundays during all-day brunch. My role was to stand in the kitchen and polish cutlery for eight hours each week. It was impossible to mess up, so it was the perfect role for me. My older sister also worked during brunch, but her role was to stand behind the back of the bar and polish glasses.
Polishing glasses
Doing a repetitive task for eight hours gives you a lot of time to think. I would spend my time daydreaming of working in the pastry section. At that point in my life, I still dreamed about opening my own bakery someday. When I was not daydreaming, I would spend my time trying to figure out ways to sneak behind the bar to talk with my sister.
I was incredibly shy, but I was always most comfortable near her. As soon as there was a gap in the bins of cutlery, I would hurry behind the bar and we would talk until a manager told me to go back to my station. We would take turns visiting each other and getting sent back. To kill time, one day we created a song about polishing glasses. We would try to sing the song at least once a shift.
This job had a high turnover rate because students made up most of the employees. People would often leave once they finished school. So naturally, the time came for my sister to go off to college. Because of how much time I had spent behind the bar, I was the natural choice to replace her on Sundays, and that is what I did. The days of polishing cutlery were behind me. I had moved on to glasses.
I enjoyed polishing glasses. It was nice standing in the same place and having co-workers come and go as they dropped off glasses for me to clean. It felt like I stood still as the world buzzed around me. That is how the whole job felt. I was there for five years, and I saw many batches of great people come and go.
The new cutlery person
Moving to glasses meant someone had to replace me, too. There were a couple of temporary people until we found the new cutlery person. He was a couple of years younger than me. He and I became close, and before long, I would be in the kitchen helping him polish and he would be behind the bar helping me, until a manager would tell us to go back to our stations.
It was just like with my sister. We just talked and laughed the whole shift. To this day, he remains the funniest person I have ever met. There was one chef who found us so annoying that he would threaten to separate us. We would be quiet for a few minutes after, and then immediately go right back to the conversation. The polisher was just so lovely.
We laughed so much. We would talk about fake scenarios involving the staff we thought were too cool for us, and we had matching senses of humour. We tried to recruit everyone to join our knitting club. Our club only ever had one meeting, and it was just me and him, but we spoke of it often.
I was so shy then, but we connected, I think. Sometimes you meet someone at exactly the right time in your life. I was an anxious person and was dealing with depression, but I enjoyed Sundays because it meant I got to see him. I eventually taught him the song my sister taught me. We would sing it as we polished with each other. He was the best part of my day.
Then I went off to college and as I started my second year, I began working one extra day each week, doing event setup. It was perfect because my new team would meet up before 6 a.m., meaning I would finish before noon. Since my bus route did not run that early, I would carpool with my dad on his way to work. He would drop me at a Tim Horton’s just up the road from my job, and I would wait there until it was time to start. Some days I would have an hour to wait.
The walk over was creepy because it would still be dark out, and right next to the coffee shop is a funeral home. It scared me each time I passed it. Despite all of this, I enjoyed my new role. Watching the sun rise while standing by a waterfall is a beauty that is hard to describe. I still worked my Sundays and continued enjoying my time with the cutlery polisher.
Things change
But things change, as they often do, and eventually, I spent both Saturday and Sunday doing event setup. I really wanted the cutlery polisher to join the team, too. Unfortunately, our manager said no, and I will always resent her for that. The cutlery polisher began taking over glasses since he spent so much time with me behind the bar. Without Sunday brunch, we saw each other less and less. I would come in early and be gone before he would start his shift.
I hate leaving places because you know things will never be the same. And they never were.
Eventually, I graduated college. I was able to quickly find work in my new field, and before long, it was time for me to leave this job. But leaving has never come naturally to me. My whole time at this job, it felt like I was always the one who stayed, no matter what. During my five years, I saw people come and go, but I was always in the same place. Now it was my turn to say goodbye. I hate leaving places because you know things will never be the same. And they never were.
Life went on, as it does, and on occasion, I thought back to my old job and the people I once knew. I thought of the polisher often, because he remained one of my favourite people, though we did not speak often after I had left. Then one day, years later, I got a message from an old co-worker saying the polisher had passed away.
The visitation was held at the funeral home right next to a coffee shop, the same one I would walk past on my way to work. That day, I took got dropped off at the place I was most comfortable, my old job. I made the short walk over to the funeral home. After my time at the visitation, an old co-worker and I decided to go sit at the coffee shop for a bit. We ended up being there for hours, as people we both knew and people I had not yet met came and went. Many stayed and sat for a while, and we all talked about old memories.
It felt like old times, but in the worst possible way, because my polishing buddy was not there. People I did not know spoke of the polishing song, and how he sang it after I had stopped working there. After hearing that, I went into the bathroom and cried. To me, it felt like he had kept a part of me after I left. Through all my doubts and bad thoughts, I still had that. I prayed that I was able to bring him some joy.
I was the last to leave that evening, and when I did, I made my way back to my old place of work. I walked past the funeral home as I had so many times before, but it was not scary this time, because someone I loved was inside. I did not want to leave. But I did. I walked away, and it felt like I was leaving him again, all those years later.
I wished many things
When I got to my old work, I sat in the gazebo and cried. I wished for so many things. I wished I had never left that job, because then I would have known him longer. I wished he had cared more when I told him I was leaving. I wished I had stayed longer the last time I saw him in person, years ago, and that I had not let my insecurities dictate that hangout.
I wished that the last time we spoke, I had pushed harder. He seemed interested in speaking to me, but I did not push the conversation. I wanted to keep it a good thing and not be annoying. But I wanted to ask him to tell me everything about his life. I wanted him in my life.
For a while, I stood near the waterfall, looking at the doors I walked through to work each day. I went to the front of the building and looked through the window into the dining area. I saw the bar that I stood behind for so many hours on so many days, our little corner of the world. It felt like things had come full circle, but the circle was not supposed to end like this. Because it can’t end like this. It just can’t.
Three months later, I have not gone a day without having tears in my eyes. You don’t always remember the words, but you will always remember the feelings, and I loved the feeling of being around him. It bothers me that while my world has stopped, the rest of the world has not.
I think I am lucky because part of me still does not believe this is real. It seems like this is a bad joke and that he never really left. I am a better person for knowing him, and the selfish part of me hopes that he was better for knowing me, too. When someone is gone, all you have to hold onto are the words you never got to say and the questions you never got to ask. Things can feel quite empty.
He was one of the people who, no matter what happened, was always on my mind. He has, and always will hold a special place inside my heart. It makes me sad that we will not know each other in the same way again, although I am certain that we will one day meet again.
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image 1 Olya Adamovich from Pixabay 2 Photo by Edward Howell on Unsplash 3 Photo by Lasse Møller on Unsplash 4 Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay
