- Special Sections
- Public Notices
The first time I spoke to Madonna Wegloski I walked into her office with a question, but we were soon joking around. We laughed about the lack of scenic views at the Monitor. I pointed out that all we see in the newsroom is the top strip of the building next door and Madonna joked that all she saw was the parking lot. Most of my memories of Madonna are like this - short snippets of her life.
I remember her raspy laugh and how she joked about being the Monitor’s “greeter” in the mornings. Madonna treasured her Beetle convertible, even gave it a name, and knew all the ins and outs of the Landmark Corporation, right down to the shoes the executives wore.
So when I learned about her death last week, it was a jolt. Everyone seemed shocked and there was a gloom that hovered over the office. Madonna’s death means something different to everyone; for me, her passing reveals a missed opportunity to become acquainted with a fellow co-worker.
I had the chance to know a person who worked just down the hallway and I let it slip through my fingers.
We are constantly reminded how important it is to live a full life and to make each day count. I did not know Madonna well but I think she accomplished this vital requirement. She was her own boss and followed her own set of rules. Madonna shaped her life exactly how she saw fit.
Her philosophy toward life is something I can remember and I like to think, even if it was in the most miniscule way, I also touched Madonna’s life.
The most vivid memory I have of Madonna occurred when this column first got started. She came up to me after the second or third installment was published and said how much she enjoyed Pen and Ink Possibilities.
She added she did not say that about every piece in the paper, so her compliment meant a lot.
So whether she is looking down on the office or peering over my shoulder, I hope she knows today’s column is my thank you to her.
Madonna, this one is for you.