Spirit Matters: Bonds made in the material world continue in spirit

This week, I caught up with a former colleague from The Times Newspaper.

Shortly before parting, we asked each other if and with whom the other had been in contact from our newsroom days.

We noted how we have had passing conversations, either in person or online, with a handful of people. For the most part though, that time and the people we spent much of our daily lives with seems to have faded into the background of our current lives.

It is bittersweet, but I suppose that is the nature of the rhythm and currents of life.

I think back to other jobs, and I am no longer in touch with people with whom I worked and who were a big part of my daily life in my 20s and 30s, defining periods in a lifetime.

But, in many ways, the newsroom staff is different. My friend and I have talked before about how we had both found a certain belonging and camaraderie as part of this group of questioning explorers. A sense of belonging that is not necessarily found in other occupations.

Breaking news, tight deadlines, natural disasters and election nights are just a few of the elements that can bond a group of reporters with a shared understanding of what it takes to get local news into the hands of its readership.

These are things we have all at some point laughed at, lashed out about and commiserated over in an attempt to maintain some equilibrium and a balanced perspective.

Once you have felt that sense of belonging in a job and with co-workers, it is hard to let go, and certainly a challenge to replicate.

In the past, my friend has hosted gatherings for the newsroom staff. But it has been quite a few years since he has had one. The last time any number of us were able to get together was to grieve the loss of our colleague and friend, Mike Murphy, who died unexpectedly in March 2022. But many, including myself, were unable to attend his memorial.

In our conversation this week, I pointed out to my friend that Murph was the common denominator in many social circles, not just as part of the newsroom.

He is the one that organized a trivia team and competitions.

He is the one that organized gatherings with former and current newsroom colleagues.

He is the one that organized the office March Madness pool.

And he relished The Lost Weekend, an annual opportunity to join with other journalism friends to end the summer with food, fun and frivolity.

On a side note, Murph was a proud Northern Illinois University alum, and often attended home football games. When the Huskies defeated Notre Dame recently, some of us couldn’t help but think of Murph, and how deliriously excited he would have been to watch his team’s victory. And, would likely still be equally excited, weeks later.

As I reflected on my conversation with my friend this week, I thought of the poem “The Dash,” by Linda Ellis, and how it speaks of what we do with the time between the day we are born and the day we die.

Here is an excerpt:

“I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend. He referred to the dates on the tombstone from the beginning to the end.

He noted first came the date of the birth and spoke the following date with tears. But he said what mattered most of all was the dash between the years.

For that dash represents all the time that they spent life on Earth. And now only those who loved them know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own, the cars, the house, the cash. What matters is how we live and love, and how we spend our dash.”

Murph certainly made his dash matter, and his dash interwove with the dash of countless other people, including mine and those of our newsroom colleagues.

Although we rarely see or speak with one another these days, and our lives have gone in different directions, I can pretty much guarantee we will never forget our days in the newsroom or those with whom we spent them.

And in that sense, that little spark of time within each of our dashes is, indeed, what makes spirit matter.

SPIRIT MATTERS is a weekly column by Jerrilyn Zavada Novak that examines experiences common to the human spirit. Contact her at jzblue33@yahoo.com.