A day that will live in infamy in our household was early July, 2012.
March of 2011 my husband I moved from the Atlantic seaboard to the south to relocate for the company my husband worked. I moved first and he followed several months later. The place we thought would be where we retired, where we had time to swim at the beach, explore the mountains, and get back to enjoying life turned out to be anything but that.
After a year of 6 and 7 day work weeks, 12-14 hour days, constant phone calls in the wee hours always with problems, a boss that was there when things were good and completely absent when his help was sorely needed, cancelled family plans and trips, my husband was reorganized out of his job.
Early in the afternoon on the day it happened I hadn’t heard from my husband and I sent him a text asking him if he was alright. His text back said “Worst day of my life. I’ll see you in a while.” I would have to have been thick as a brick to not know what was happening. While waiting for him to get home, I went over all our finances, rearranged a few things, and was ready to be the moral support that he would need.
When he got home he explained what had gone on. He was upset, partly because of all the time he had spent in the last year trying to make his company money and keep the clients happy, to more than likely, be replaced by somebody younger whose salary was much less than his. Mostly he was upset because he had never been through that before and thought he was letting me down, all the while talking about everything he had missed with me in the last year.
Being somewhat of a cock-eyed optimist, and in my industry you get used to being laid off or let go if the client goes elsewhere, I told him “So what? You’re great at what you do, the people who work for you know you are fair and honest, and that job would have eventually killed you. You’re better off without it and you’ll find something you like better. Plus we’ll be able to spend some time together.”
The day that lived in infamy turned out to be a blessing in disguise. My husband took time to relax and catch up on badly needed rest. It also allowed us the freedom to get up in the morning, have a cup of coffee on the deck while listening to the birds, watching the squirrels chase each other from tree to tree, and realizing that life was WAY, WAY too short to be that stressed. For the first time in our life as a couple, we were able to spend our time doing whatever we wanted.
As the weeks went by, my husband realized what I had told him on that day – that the stress at that job had changed him and his personality. Slowly receding was the tension on his face and the shortness of temper, replaced by an easy laugh and a calm I hadn’t seen since early 2011.
The day of infamy – although the reason for our recent move west – turned out to be one of the best things that has happened to us as a couple. We have a great home in the mountains (or it will be once I finish finding places for everything in the many, many cardboard moving boxes!) and we get the chance to explore a new area together in a place so beautiful it really is God’s country. The best part of all is that my husband loves his new job working for a company who values the individuals who work for them. He is valued, appreciated, and part of a great work team.
Gone is the tension on his face, the unending hours, the constant middle of the night calls, the stress to try to fix what is broken. As I see it, my husband was reorganized out of hell. In its place we have peace, beauty, time together….and he’s home every night by 6pm. That day in early July 2012 is a day that lives in infamy, with my husbands previous company winning the battle. In losing that tiny battle, my husband and I now realize we have won the war.
Got a Friday Fiasco of your own? Let us know……