Bill was a coworker of mine at an international company where we worked as MRO Buyers. We bought material and repair for organizational needs covering nearly 30 buildings and supporting 1200 employees.

We had jointly endured hundreds of staff meetings, a multitude of software system changes and business evolution under a variety of ever-changing managers. Having survived multiple reorganizations over the years, we had developed an arm's length relationship. We had survived in our department as it was whittled down from ninteen staff members to the five of us who remained.

As peers, we were used to competitiveness in the performance of our duties as buyers, and it developed further in the climate of downsizing and organizational restructuring, corporate buzz words which in fact boiled down to layoffs and job losses. Painfully aware of our tentative status that could easily change to non essential personnel, each of us sought ways to be seen as valuable and remain employed.

One day Bill introduced me to one of his suppliers, a major vendor of computer equipment with whom we spent mega bucks, saying to the vendor, "She rubs you the wrong way but she's really OK." While I was taken aback and somewhat embarrassed at the characterization, it was unfortunately true.

Bill's forthright comment forced me to look at my personality in a different way than I ever had. Whether I agreed with his somewhat abrupt description or not, that was how he perceived me. It's a fact that our intelligence can be measured by the quality of our response to whatever occurs. And in the fraction of a second that it takes to pop off a smart remark, a moment of reflection may be more valuable than a crisp cutting slam. Maybe not as satisfying but perhaps nicer.

Instantly I felt stung and insulted and naturally I popped off some smart-mouthed retort, further confirming his assessment. Years later, in retrospect, I began to realize that Bill was probably right in his description of me, even if not in his choice of confidants or in his poor timing. Having worked so long in a predominantly male industry, I discovered that men in business relate very differently than women and most don't take the time to be sweet when making a point.

As our department continued to shrink I was promoted to manager of the department which put me directly over Bill as his supervisor. My title was actually Purchasing Supervisor instead of Manager, otherwise they would have had to increase my pay to what my male predecessor had earned for the identical duties and responsibilities.

We had both interviewed for the position and for a multitude of reasons Bill had difficulty with this choice by our department manager. For one thing, I was a woman. For another, I had been in the department less time than Bill and naturally, my title was just buyer, not senior buyer. As my former peer, he could not accept my new role. He took every opportunity to make my short tenure as his boss a living nightmare.

Eventually he accepted a position in one of our subsidiary companies as a manager. In light of the flaming past hostilities I didn't have much enthusiasm for organizing a going away party for Bill who would soon be leaving our department.

A couple of years and several reorganizations later, I had long since moved on to a different position within the company, when I received a call from one of the five survivors. The caller told me she wanted to see me in person, which was surprising since, we too, had parted on uneasy terms. My management style must have been pretty warped.

We met in the hallway near my cubicle in the department where I now worked. She confided that Bill had suddenly taken ill a couple of days earlier and was not expected to make it. I was unable to respond, simply standing there in my cubicle with my mouth gaping open.

This was so completely beyond what I ever imagined she would say. She explained that Bill had exhibited flu-like symptoms and an outrageously high fever after a business trip out of state. He had finally asked one of his teenage boys to drive him to the emergency room since his wife was out of town. The hospital staff was already suggesting an autopsy be performed to determine the actual cause of his impending death. Bill died four days after contracting a mysterious illness.

I had never lost a coworker before and his passing brought reality into focus for me. When I think back on my years in business I wish I had been kinder, more understanding, less critical, more forgiving. Less inclined to gripe and complain. And yet Bill would have still been his usual self: unchanging, aggravating, often annoying, but we would have both laughed a lot more.