Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Stephen's first post

Well, this is my first time ever blogging, or sharing my thoughts and feeling with anyone except my wife. It has been just over a month now since Cathy, Sam and I found out that our little boy Alex had died and would be stillborn. I have found that most people want to treat me as though nothing has happened to me. Particularly my coworkers. While I was out on a Leave of Absence, the controller of the department decided to tell everyone in my department that they should not mention Alex’s death to me, or ask me how I am doing. While I know that he did this with good intentions, my co-workers are now treating me as though I am same person that I was before Alex died, when I am defiantly not that same person. I suppose to them nothing has changed, however; to me everything has changed. My priorities have changed. I am no longer looking to take on extra work to try an impress my management team, instead, I am looking to do as little as I can to make it thru the day and still be considered having showed up for work and done my job. I no longer care about getting another promotion, instead, I care about getting to leave at 5:15 and enter into the part of my world that really matters.
As anyone who knows me can tell you, I am a very talkative person, however; it is always about nonsense. I’m not typically one who likes to talk about what I am feeling, however; Alex’s death has really made me look at who I am, and what I want to further become.

7 comments:

Catherine said...

I told you that it's relatively painless. I love you.

Backpetal said...

Steve, I'm glad you're posting. I can only imagine how hard it must be to concentrate on work after having lost Alex. I'm sorry the folks you work with aren't more supportive.

Donutbuzz said...

Hi, Steve! I'm happy that you're posting, too. I hope you'll post more because, although you may not typically talk about your feelings, I think you'll find blogging very therapeutic. In fact, at the risk of sounding stupid, the internet saved my life several years ago after my dad died.

I'm sorry about your co-workers' treatment of you and hopefully they'll feel more comfortable talking about the loss of Alex.

-Hoyt

Anonymous said...

I'm glad you posted Steve. Writing about losing Alex could be helpful, especially if your co-workers aren't open to talking about it.

We're here for you all.

Holley, Chas and Angela.

Michaleen said...

And so I ask, what do you want to become?

lauralu said...

welcome to bloglandia.

Catherine said...

First...I'm jealous of all the reaction. A post from my mom even! I don't even get comments from my mom!

I too have co-workers who don't know how to treat me. But I chalk it up to the fact that they don't have a clue. And I'm truly grateful that they don't understand. Nobody should have to understand what this feels like or how it changes you. Funny, huh? To have it all one day and then wish nobody ever has your life the next. But be honest, before this happened to you, would you have known what to say or do? I wouldn't have.

As for work...
Some day you may very well enjoy your work again. I suspect that this just uncovered what you've been thinking and feeling all along...because the important stuff was always there, we just didn't appreciate it as much as we do now. Sure, it would be nice if we could spend every second of every day together, but that's not an option right now (maybe some day when we find that perfect horse farm). So spend the time you lend them well and excel at work and impress your company while you're there each day. If anything, Alex taught us we shouldn't waste a second of precious time. And if you're merely treading water at work, then you're wasting time finding your true happiness. You CAN be good at what you do AND actually like what you do AND be a good husband and father. You don't have to choose (unless you plan to get some high powered corporate suit job that takes you away from home). And if you decide you absolutely hate your job and you want to follow your bliss, I will always be there to support you. Sam and I are your cheering section, and we always will be. Plus, you've got a little two-man cheering section up in heaven. You can't go wrong.