Sunday, September 02, 2012

Perspective

The day after being fired I was still reeling with shock.  There is so much about it that makes absolutely no sense (I've done my job well by everyone's account.  Business has picked up notably.  There's a long history between my family and that of the bosses so there's a very personal element to all of this which makes it a bit more painful).  I've spoken with my coworkers and none of them see any reason for this either.  I have my theories as to what constituted the "chemistry" problem. If I'm right my former bosses could not possibly admit it unless they wanted to leave themselves wide open to a lawsuit.  Of course, I have no way to actually document it though.  I decided the day after loosing my job would be dedicated to myself.  I didn't have a plan beyond, "I'm not doing anything that doesn't feel good."  I packed up my camera. I went for lunch and left a 100% tip and a note for the waitress thanking her because she did her job well, was a pleasant person, and I know she has a generally thankless job. I spoke with some friends and wandered around.  I eventually wound up at a local cemetery.  Long-time readers may know that I have a fondness for them and have been known to escape to them in times of stress.  As soon as I drove through the rows of trees standing like sentries I began to feel calmer.


Cemeteries are quiet, and usually empty.  If living people are there they aren't interested in interacting so you don't have to worry about managing to come up with small talk or other inanities.  This one has a lot of lovely trees.  The weather was gorgeous.  The shade was inviting.  I discovered this spot that seemed like a nice hiding spot.


Cemeteries can have some amazing craftsmanship too.  This bit of stone-cutting on the corner of a headstone was beautifully done. It made me feel like I was being watched but not in a creepy way, just as if the histories of all the folks there were mingling with my own.  The combined trials and triumphs of generations of people were whispering that they had their lives and I had mine and there are no guarantees but I'm still walking among the living so I need to keep moving forward.


I looked up and saw the "babyland" section of the cemetery.  That's exactly what it sounds like.  This cemetery has a spot dedicated for children and it donates plots to the families needing them.  I know this because I know three babies buried there.  Out of respect for those families, no pictures, but I went to pay my respects and I said a prayers for the parents who know a grief I cannot imagine.  I was reminded there are far worse things to lose than a job.  I remembered how scared I was for the year Calypso was so terribly ill.  I gave thanks that she has been restored and that all three of my children are alive and well.


When I came home flowers had been delivered.  The card read, "We all still think you're a keeper."  It was signed by Mr. Lime and each of the kids.  When he got home he told me each of the children had actually contributed to the cost of the flowers.  I cried.  This time it was because of kindness and love shown to me.

15 comments:

(not necessarily your) Uncle Skip said...

"...flowers had been delivered..."
Perfect!
I wanna chip in, too.

Craig said...

What Skip said. . .

'Tis blessed indeed, to experience the love of your family. . .

~Tim said...

FWIW, I'm sending positive energy your way. {hugs}

Kat said...

Awww. And you're making me cry too! What a great family! Nothing beats that. The best.
Cemeteries do have a way of putting things in perspective, don't they? I just love cemeteries. They are so peaceful. I grew up taking walks with my mom at a cemetery near the house I grew up in. Now we live close to that cemetery too and my kids love going there to water my sister's and dad's graves. I often take my runs through the cemetery too. There is a grave there for a little 3 year old boy who died of cancer. His parents decorate his grave for each holiday, keep it mowed and tended to weekly, and always have new toys there. When I think I've had enough of my kids I always think about that grave and those parents and how very lucky I am.

So glad you are feeling lucky too.

Sending you virtual flowers and hugs. :)

Commander Zaius said...

My wife liked to visit ancient cemeteries for the historical stuff until a visit to one in Charleston. It was per-revolutionary war and for some reason the grass had not been cut in a week or two.

As my wife and I were looking around a huge ass rat jumped out of the tall grass, landed on the toe of my sneaker, and then without missing a beat jumped again to disappear into the grass.

My wife who had been standing right beside me was gone. Found her forty or fifty yards away. Never have been able to get her to go exploring again.

stephen Hayes said...

How great that your family sent you flowers. How thoughtful. They knew you were suffering.

Anonymous said...

Yep. You're a keeper, Lime.

Craig said...

And yeah. . . his 'firing words' were way too vague and weaselly. I'm sure your intuitions are probably correct. And yet, there's really nothing you can do, except move on. . .

Too bad, 'cuz I know you really liked the job, and the folks you worked with (just between you and me, every job I've ever had, the memories I treasure are WAY more about the friends I had there, than they are about the wonderful things I accomplished; but I'm probably weird that way. . .)

Daryl said...

i still think you should speak to a lawyer .. whether you can document it or not ...

you are definitely a keeper .. and you have a fabulous family ..

Suldog said...

I've probably told you how much I, also, like cemeteries. Grand relaxing places for the living to enjoy. Next time you're in our neck of the woods, we'll have to take a picnic to some one of the better boneyards around here, perhaps Mount Auburn or Forest Hills.

Major props to the flower givers.

Craver Vii said...

What a nice gesture of affirmation from some of the people who matter most!

My prayer for you now is that you find healing from this event, and most immediately... comfort from the pain of this fresh wound.

I'm keeping your lesson of perspective tucked away in my memory bank for a time that I will be needing the same.

God bless you.

Dave said...

Glad you found solace today Michelle. That was nice of your family to share your sorrow by sending you flowers - Dave

Hilary said...

You have a wonderful family, Lime. You've raised those kids right. You are indeed a keeper. I love what you did for the waitress. Such a kindness.

Jocelyn said...

Okay, I have tears about the flowers. I was going to ask, in this comment, how your family had reacted. Now I know.

~Dragonfly~* said...

Change is always unsettling.....especially when it makes no sense and you struggle to process it.

I too, enjoy only cemeteries. They are so beautiful.

Sending good thoughts and positive energies your way.