Rachael Leaves a Fingerprint

Last year, a friend from work named Rachael passed away. She was a young, beautiful woman.

I remember her interviewing with my VP and SVP. I remember the self doubt on her face, how she clutched her portfolio closely--her big doll-like eyes wide. I noticed that she could turn on a big smile full of light. I remember her resume and the equivalent of a sell sheet for herself--a smart strategy for someone interviewing for a business development role.

Once she was hired, I remember how she and I would banter about the correct spelling of "Rachel/Rachael." We always disagreed.

 My memories of Rachael are good evidence of this quote:

People May Not Remember Exactly What You Did or Said but They Will Always Remember How You Made Them Feel

Rachael was still in her mid-20s and she respected my experience and knowledge. When talking to her, I felt like a mentor, like I had something of value to offer her--my experience, wisdom, and knowledge. She noticed and commented on the little things that came naturally to me after so many years in health care business and in the corporate world. She reminded me of how far I had come and how I had something to offer those on the path behind me.

Even though the time that we worked together was short, our interactions relatively few--I still think about her a lot. Not only because of how she made me feel, but because her fingerprint remains.

She's in my phone.

She's still linked to me on LinkedIn.

She's still one of the options to select when I send an email and start typing "Rac...."

Until this week, she was in my Microsoft Communicator.

I have emails from her.

Rachael's fingerprint remains.