Two Halves of a Person

Friday was my last day at work. I got a great new job that pays more and that matches my personality more closely than my former company. I’m beginning day one of this new job by gettng on an airplane and flying to Arizona for their annual sales meeting. To say that the days leading up to this trip have been stressfull is a gross understatement. I’m nervous as can be.

Beyond that, and because my blog is the only entity that doesn’t judge me for still feeling the hit from my husband’s death, this change has illicited yet another grief reaction. Just when I thought I had done absolutely evertying in my life at least once since Chris died, here I am standing at the gate of another first. When will it end?

Six years ago, when I left company #1 for the first time after being there for nine years, I swore to God and to Chris that I would never walk through it’s doors again. Since we can never know what curve balls life will hand us, I left on a good note in the event that I should ever need to return. I did need to return. I took back my old job when Chris got sick because I knew it paid enough to enable me to support the two of us so Chris could quit his job and focus on getting well. Company #1 took me back in a heartbeat.

Chris wasn’t happy about my return because he knew that job wasn’t the best fit for me and he made me promise to leave it as soon as he was healhty, again. He never got healthy again, and even though I thought I would leave immediately after his death, years would go by before I, myself, felt well enough to make a move. I made that move this past Friday.

Today, I’m boarding a flight to Arizona where I will meet all of my coworkers for the first time. How scary is that? I’m nervous, but happy.

I fulfilled another promise to my husband, which doesn’t bring me too much satisfaction, since he’s not here to share my joy and sense of accomplisment. Still, a promise is a promise.

These days I seem to be a walkiing, breathing (barely) grief-reaction and I don’t know how much longer I can remain in this state of sadness. Am I destined to be two halves of a person, forever? The happy half and the grief-stricken, panicked half?

The next few days will be wonderful. Getting to know people is a strength for me and I’m so very happy to not be returning to the stringent constraints of a workplace where textiles precede over intelect.

I’m off to the airport in jeans, a blouse and a sweater, and nobody at this new job is going to judge or chide me for that.

Chris would be very proud of me, today.

Shneed