Yearning

 

Winter is coming, or almost.

 The cold air was beginning to be felt, and the fallen leaves from the trees crunched under my feet as I walked. Today, Raquel called me at work to invite me for coffee, and I didn’t hesitate; I put on my jacket and went out to meet her. She was on the other side of the street. She waved at me. When I saw her crossing the street and approaching with a wide smile and a colorful coat that contrasted with the gray day, I knew our meeting would be special.

“Hi! Ready for some coffee?” she said enthusiastically. Her energy was contagious, and her presence always brought with it a mix of joy and nostalgia. But today, I also noticed a hint of melancholy in her eyes. As we walked toward our café near the office, Raquel began to talk about her days since leaving work.

“At first, it was exciting,” she confessed. “But now I feel like something is missing. I miss chatting with my coworkers and the daily routine. Although I enjoyed my free time, now that I'm retired after forty years of working, I can’t help but feel the lack of routine and companionship.”

As we entered the café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped us. We sat at a table by one of the windows where we could see people passing by on the street, and we started talking. It wasn’t long before steaming cups of coffee were placed in front of us.

“I miss the quick chats in the office and the laughter during meetings,” she confessed while stirring her coffee. “Life at work had its own rhythm.”

“And you? How’s everything going at work?” she asked. I couldn’t help but notice how her eyes lit up when she heard me talk about office gossip. It was clear that she still longed to be part of that world. Retirement had brought with it a void that she didn’t know how to fill.

I told her about new projects we were working on and how everyone remembered her fondly. “You will always be part of the team,” I said, even though I knew I was lying. I tried to convey a sense of belonging that had, deep down, disappeared. Her absence had been filled by another face, and meetings continued without pause as tasks multiplied constantly. In the midst of everyday hustle, her memory had faded in just a few days.

Then I decided to change course and propose something: “How about we organize one or two get-togethers each month? We could do something fun together and meet up with other girls from the office for lunch, go to the movies, or just take a walk in the park.”

The idea seemed to excite her; her eyes sparkled as if she had found something she was missing. “I’d love that,” she replied sincerely. “Sometimes all I need is a little company to remember how much there is to enjoy.” Her words resonated within me; I understood perfectly how disconnected she felt.

 

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