Regrets and Lessons

I wrote this in 2019.  The lesson has been driven home even more since then.  My beloved big brother died in August of 2020.  Tom's big brother, my "udder brudder" died five months later.  And not quite a year after that, a few short months ago, my brother's wife and my precious sister-in-law also left us.  These words, which I hadn't yet published, are still true, and ever more powerful.  We've survived a pandemic,  One of the things to come out of the pandemic is the "Great Resignation".  Workers have re-evaluated what is important to them and are making hard choices.  Employers are also having to adjust if they want to keep qualified workers on their teams.  It is, in my opinion, a good thing.  A little late for me as I slide toward retirement in the next five years.  Take heed.  

"It has been a long few months. Work has been intense, and fast paced, and frustrating, and brutal.  I have worked more hours in the last year than I have in several.  And in all of the work, I gave up so much of my life.  Work has taken over my life.  It has taken from me the time to care for myself, my home, my health, my sleep, my pup.  It has taken the fun from my life.  When I do have a day off, I'm so tired that I can't get on my motorcycle.  I don't get on it when I'm tired.  It is dangerous.  Work has taken my time and energy to build a new life. It is not a new story.

After a particularly intense work-filled weekend I headed into a two-week run of meetings.  On that Monday morning I approached the trailer, rolling my case along with me I thought "I don't want to do this."  That isn't how I usually feel as I approach a round of meetings.  I'm usually excited and pumped to do it.  But that morning I had nothing left.  I realized that I did not survive the last five years to work like this.  I did not survive Tom's illness and his death, two heart surgeries and a rare dangerous complication to do "this." This is not what I want for my life.  Don't get me wrong, I love the work. What I don't love is the unrelenting pressure and the demanding schedule.  This is not the quality of life that I now want.

I harken back to the biggest friction in our marriage--it was how much I worked.  And how much I traveled. All of that time that I put into my job and for what?  My clients didn't care what I sacrificed. And the firms I worked for certainly didn't care.  All they cared about was how happy the client was (I always had happy clients) and how much money they made. But they didn't care about me, or my life, or my husband's life.  That was true for most of my professional life.  I will say that I have been fortunate that in the last six years I have worked with a stunningly good firm and had stunningly good clients who were so very kind to me when Tom died. I was blessed at that time to be working with good-hearted, solid kind people.  The antithesis of my previous experience where I spent so much time crisscrossing North America for a different firm that didn't care at all.  Some individuals may have cared, but the firm and leadership as a whole did not.

The hard pill to swallow is that I am not the victim here.  I made the choice to do those things.  I thought that there would be some special reward at the end of the line.  Some type of recognition.  There wasn't.  Any loyalty was not reciprocal.  I had been sold a bill of goods about working hard and being rewarded for your hard work.  I bought it hook line and sinker.  And the sad part is that I learned way too late in my life it wasn't true.  I don't know why, exactly, that I have been so driven to get on that treadmill and put so much effort into a project.  I do love the work and the process.  And I love solving problems for my clients and building the relationships.  But why am I pushing so relentlessly, and why do I continue to do this to myself?  At this point, the only way out is through.  And I will need to endure and try to find ways to lessen the pressure cooker.  I am certain that the stress contributed to the reoccurrence of my aFib and the need for a second surgery.  Trying to answer this question will take more than a blog post to unravel.  Bottom line is that I am the only person who can change this. And I will have to figure it out.

As I was bemoaning my situation Friday to my brother (who is just like me in this regard--actually he is much worse), I wanted to drive home the point that time in finite.  Time with the people you love is finite.  One will never know when a moment could be the last.  And all of the extra time spent at the office or working for the client or being on the road to land the next big project or trying to impress the boss--

YOU. NEVER. GET. IT. BACK.    

EVER.  

Work is a necessary evil and can also be a rewarding experience.  I've enjoyed my career.  I've felt drawn to and committed to the work.  I have believed it was important work, that it made a difference in some small way.  Even if the only thing it did was support us so Tom could do the work he was meant to do, which really was important work.  My work serves it purpose.  My problem is balance.  I suck at it.  I keep trying and I keep failing.  I have had the hard lesson put right in front of my eyes.  All Tom wanted from me was to spend time together.  It was that simple.  What a fortunate woman I was, and what a clueless one as well.

I know you have heard it before but I am the lesson.  Put first things first.  Spend time with the people you love.  That is really all they want from you.  And it is the very best gift you can give them.  You.  Your time.  Your love.  They are what matters. And you are what matters to them."