by Ava Cuvay
Last Friday was my last day at the day job. After having a month to emotionally prepare for the inevitable, I was in a good mind-set. I’d been through most of the stages of mourning for the job—and the co-workers—I was losing. Since this was a company merger, many of us were in the same boat. A merger means change for everyone, those leaving as well as those staying on. And I think everyone felt that “ending” keenly.
Last Friday was my last day at the day job. After having a month to emotionally prepare for the inevitable, I was in a good mind-set. I’d been through most of the stages of mourning for the job—and the co-workers—I was losing. Since this was a company merger, many of us were in the same boat. A merger means change for everyone, those leaving as well as those staying on. And I think everyone felt that “ending” keenly.
I couldn’t have
scripted a better last day. Fortune was on our side because work ceased at
lunch so the operational systems could be converted. That meant nothing for
anyone to do but hang out, laugh, reminisce, and just enjoy each other’s
company. It felt almost celebratory, like a graduation. And like a graduation,
the memories I’ve made over the last eighteen years will continue with me
wherever I go.
But I can’t go
back. Again, like any matriculation, my path lies forward only. Such is the way
of life. As Dory in FINDING NEMO says, I have to “just keep swimming.” With all
the rain we’ve been having, the swimming is a definite possibility!
At the same time
I was losing my job, I was also replacing my car which I’ve had for as long as
I’ve been with that company. Ole Blue has been as much a part of my life as
anything. She carried me to and from my job. She traveled to and from my
boyfriend’s house. Then my fiance’s house. Then helped move my husband’s things
when we combined households. She carried my babies as they grew from infant
seats with five-point harnesses, to car seats, to booster seats, to nothing.
She was held together by stale French fries, legos, and dog hair.
I tease my
husband that he only has until we’ve been together for 18 years, then I’ll
donate him to Goodwill and get a younger model. Fortunately, he doesn’t take me
seriously.
This has been a
month of endings for me. As sad as they are, they represent the new beginnings
that I can now embrace. Even though the sun may have set on my former career
and my Ole Blue, the sun will rise again for me. I love my new car. And I’m
excited at what the future holds for me!
If you could
choose your future, what would it be?
You and the Red Rogue are going to just sparkle for the next 18 years whatever choices you make next. A great post, Ava.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I love my Rogue ;-) it's sassy!
DeleteI love your attitude, sweets, and your way with words! You're going to be just fine. Hugs.
ReplyDeleteI think you're going to love the new car, Ava, and you're right - the future is bright, indeed.
ReplyDeleteI wish the weather would reflect that brightness! ;-)
DeleteAva, no you can't look back. The adventure is ahead of you. Face the future and know it can be scary but it will be wonderful. "All you need is faith, trust and a little bit of pixie dust" - Peter Pan
ReplyDeleteGreat quote, Carolyn! You're right about the faith and trust for sure!
DeleteIt's too bad all last days can't end like yours! Enjoy the time as you decide on your next phase of life because, trust me, it will speed by.
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like you and your colleagues were allowed to have a good ending to your time at the job. Whatever happens now, I'm sure it will be wonderful.
ReplyDelete