This Can’t Wait

The timing probably isn’t right.
I have wanted to write all day but kept putting it aside. Later is best. Another time is more appropriate. And then I realized that “later” is why I’m writing this to begin with~ later won’t happen for me and my boss.

Some of you know him. He’s a reputable chiropractor in our community, a devoted Christian man,  a loyal friend, an involved dad to 3 young men, and a man in love with his wife.
But, to me, he was my boss…at least it started that way until he became my friend.  He
was a man who took me to breakfast (on the recommendation of a friend) to discuss his practice and an opportunity for us to work together. I was pretty happy staying at home at the time but this guy intrigued me.  He really valued what I could bring to the table, which was flattering, but there was more. He wanted to challenge me.

Since I began managing his office early this year, he became more than a boss. This was not a man who was inclined to see patients all day and interact with his staff on occasion. We would have to shoo him away from our desks and areas all day, every day ~ he always wanted to know how he could help. He wanted to be involved with us…and it drove me crazy.  🙂
It would have been easy to doubt his authenticity in caring so much had it not been so genuinely displayed.  He “wore his heart on his sleeve” is a saying that could have been created just for him. And I miss him more than I can articulate. He has been gone just over 24 hours and I still can’t believe it.

Last night, I received a call informing me of the accidental fall that took Dr. Sayers life. My disbelief was so real and palpable that I had to call back to confirm that my ears hadn’t heard a horrible mistake; an error in the outcome. When people are taken from us so suddenly, without preparation, I think it’s natural to immediately remember the last words you spoke… the last conversation you had…the last good-bye you casually said like it was nothing.
I will remember him leaving our office so I could be left alone to get paperwork and insurance trivialities done for as long as I live. He had come by the office on a normally closed Tuesday “just to say hi” to me. I honestly looked at him like he’d just said the most outlandish thing a man has ever said.
“You came in just to say hi to me??” I asked. I was thinking to myself “Who DOES that?”
This guy does. This insanely caring man….did.
“Yeah. I just wanted to say Hi.”

I hurried him through our conversation about account receivables, billing, new patient files, etc. and he stood at the door, pausing, before he left. Of course, I knew he wanted to go over everything we had just talked about again because he was a big fan of repetition but he must have decided not to and he left.
Just like that.

If I had my “later”, I would tell him how sorry I am that I wasn’t more patient with his questions. I would tell him I’m sorry for telling him he was “too nice” to people because I didn’t want his generosity taken advantage of. I would tell him that his trust in me did not go unnoticed and that I valued it more than I even knew. I would tell him that he had made me a better person and that his impact would be forever with me. I would tell him that I admired him immensely for how much he cared for me and our staff and his family and his friends and his patients.
I would tell him thanks for reading my blog and asking questions about stuff I had written.
I would tell him that the world is a darker place without him.

So I know this may seem distasteful to some to write about him so soon but I didn’t want to wait until later…..  God bless you, Dr. Neal Sayers. Your presence in heaven comforts me, knowing that I will see you again and be able to say all of these things to your face~ the face of a little boy, your staff would say.

Until later, Doc….until later.