The Calm Before the Storm

This time next week I should know if I still have a job or not. On Thursday, the possible reality of the situation really set in and I packed up a box of my personal belongings and brought it home. I did the same thing yesterday. Ironically, as this potential reality set in I became incredibly and increasingly calm. I listened to remnants of conversations as they passed by my cube or as I passed them in the aisles. So many people are so worried. Me? I would describe myself as "wondered." I wonder if I will lose my job. I wonder what I will do if I do. I wonder what I will do if I don't. I wonder just how calm I will be one week from now ...

Fortunately, because of my time with the company, I am eligible for a severance that will help sustain us for more than a year, but after a week or two of chilling, I'd be throwing myself full force into a job search, which the company will provide assistance with for six months. Call me Sniff or Scurry but I'd be on the lookout for new some "cheddar." Yeah, I pulled out Who Moved My Cheese the other day.

I took my mom back home today. She spent the week with us and cared for the kids after school. I planned to just drop her off, say hi to my dad and then head back home. I wound up staying for several hours.

I don't know how, but me and my dad got to talking. He told me that by the time he entered the tenth grade most people thought he was only entering sixth grade. He said that he was very small for his age back then and it really bothered him. He said that his mother was approximately 5' 4" and that Granddaddy was only 5' 6". Luckily Daddy went through a growth spurt and eventually reached 5'10" or is he 5' 9"?

He told me that he and nine his siblings used to attend the church down the street from their home but his parents went to two different churches and that he often would walk to meet his mother and walk her home. He said he was the only one who would do this. I could see the pleasure and the pain in his face as he recollected those days. She died January 16, 1960, four and a half years before I was born. Daddy was 24 then.

Eventually my brother stopped by and our conversations became very lively. Lots of laughter. Lots of fun. It felt good. It felt great. Like it used to be before the big falling out of 1991. It feels good to have released so much of the bitterness. Occassionally it tries to creep back into my heart. Occassionally I remember the pain. Thank goodness those occassions are increasingly seldom.

I suppose not all memories can be happy ones but they can be cherished for making me appreciate the happy ones all the more and for helping me keep things in perspective.

Oh well, I'm home now with Dave on the couch in the family room. Jared on the other computer. Jordyn and Justin finger painting. Me blogging. Life etc. happening.

td