It’s 8:06 p.m. Thursday October 6,
2011. As I am still convalescing a
little bit following my recent surgery, and as A is out this evening, I am left
with some serious time alone with my thoughts.
Currently, most of the Northwest coast
of England and essentially Cumbria is under a ‘severe weather’ warning. In actuality we are experiencing gales and
winds ranging from 36 mph with gusts up to 63 mph. The winds are howling, the sky is dark, and
the sea is frothing and churning. None
of this is the point of this blog.
However, the winds have got me thinking about change (e.g. the ‘winds of
change’).
Exactly one year ago today, I arrived
in the UK to start my new life. Exactly
one year ago yesterday, I departed my old life, my family, and my dear friends
… across currents high and low, to bravely face a change that no amount of
careful planning can fully prepare one for.
Several of my friends back ‘home’ also
happen to be former work colleagues.
This is bound to happen when one works for the same company for 16
years, with ten of those years in a certain division of said company. By the time I left, there were a small
handful of people who had been there as long or longer than I, and others who
hadn’t, but whom I had the pleasure and privilege of working alongside for a
good number of years nonetheless. When
investing so much time in a career and with the same people every day, the
lines between co-workers and friends tend to blur, and those same faces start
to resemble a second family of sorts.
Ironically, yesterday, on the one year
anniversary of significant change, I received some awful news from home. Due to unsurprising changes in the economy
(the world over, frankly), the company is making sweeping changes and closing
the doors on a place I spent more hours and more years than I care to recount. These changes mean that people I spent a lot
of years with, formed friendships with, and care dearly about, are all about to
become scattered to the four winds. Some
will relocate, and some will stay and seek different opportunities. Only two things are certain: 1) All of them are hurting. 2) Things will never be the same.
To quote my father upon telling him the
news, he said to me ‘It’s like hearing your childhood home has burned down
while you were away at college’ (University in Britspeak). That is exactly how I feel.
It is agonizing to know what they (and
really countless people the world over, as this is not a unique story in these
times) are now facing, and to be so helpless to do anything very tangible to
help or ease their fears or sadness. Of
course they are in my thoughts and very much on my mind. Of course I am there for each of them should
they want or need anything at all that I can give. Of course I have faith in their talents and
abilities, their work ethic and amazing spirit.
We have weathered a lot of change through the years together, and I believe
most or all will land on their feet somehow.
While I retain optimism generally, it
doesn’t take away the pure pain and grief at the disbanding of the particular
group of people that made up such a big part of my life and time in the past
decade. Although the work we did wasn’t
the easiest, the sense of camaraderie was bar none. Work aside, we have been there for each other
through divorces, marriages, births, deaths, squabbles, politics, massive
changes, and some pretty great nights out along the way. Like family, we weren’t perfect, we were
sometimes dysfunctional, but we showed up, and when it counted … we had each
other’s backs.
This is one group of people I will
spend the rest of my days being so happy and honored to have been a part of,
and which I will never, ever forget.
Though winds and change and time may
keep us apart … when it counts … I’ll
still be there for you. God Bless.
