Saying Good-bye: Part 2
Today was my last official day of work. (I say "official" because I plan to go in tomorrow to tie up as many loose ends as I can.) The ride in on the T was uneventful and it didn't hit me until I was walking towards our office building that it was my very last ride to work in Boston. I was saddened knowing that my weekday morning routine of 5 years was going to change dramatically: a different route to work at a different office building in a different city in a different country. When I finally reached the office, I was alone. I walked around and took in each office, the conference room, even the supply closet at the back of the office. I had lived 40 hours of each week for 4 years with the people who occupy those offices and I handled many of the files which are crammed in so many of those shelves and file cabinets.
The rest of the morning, like most of my days this week, involved me running around like a chicken with its head cut off. It seemed as though my "To Do" list never got shorter and even though I'd check one thing off, 3 more items were added on. In all the urgency of completing my work, I had no time to get sentimental.
When noon came around, my employers took everyone out for a "good-bye" lunch. We shared a meal at the Hilton Hotel restaurant and I felt extremely under-dressed in my jeans among the many suits who ate there. After lunch, my employers presented me with some gifts: a paperweight with a painting of Boston Common; a children's book on Boston for Makayla; and a commerative Boston plate that pictured the Swan rides at the Boston Gardens. I was grateful for their gifts and their expression of appreciation for all the work I have done for them. Still, I was too preoccupied with thoughts of all the work that waited for me at the office that I could not get sentimental.
As the work day ended and co-workers wished me luck as they left for the weekend, I was still too busy with my work to realize that it probably was the last time I would ever see them again. Even after my employers, on their way out, told me how much they appreciated my work and how much they would miss me, I still couldn't feel anything. Work still needed to get done and phone calls still needed to be returned.
Finally, after a long week of seemingly non-stop working, after packing up the last of my personal items, after gathering up all my gifts, I walked out of the office building and cried. It finally hit me that I have closed the door on a significant chapter of my life and that door will never be opened again.
I will miss my weekday morning T ride to that office building in Boston. I will miss walking up 9 flights of stairs (elevators scare me!) to our suite. I will miss my office, the one with the view of Boston all the way to the Tobin bridge. I will miss my co-workers, even the ones I merely say "hi" to and nothing more. I will miss my employers, two men who taught me what it means to be a good boss. I will miss working at an office where I know I was needed and sincerely appreciated.
Another set of good-byes have been said and the most difficult one is yet to come.
The rest of the morning, like most of my days this week, involved me running around like a chicken with its head cut off. It seemed as though my "To Do" list never got shorter and even though I'd check one thing off, 3 more items were added on. In all the urgency of completing my work, I had no time to get sentimental.
When noon came around, my employers took everyone out for a "good-bye" lunch. We shared a meal at the Hilton Hotel restaurant and I felt extremely under-dressed in my jeans among the many suits who ate there. After lunch, my employers presented me with some gifts: a paperweight with a painting of Boston Common; a children's book on Boston for Makayla; and a commerative Boston plate that pictured the Swan rides at the Boston Gardens. I was grateful for their gifts and their expression of appreciation for all the work I have done for them. Still, I was too preoccupied with thoughts of all the work that waited for me at the office that I could not get sentimental.
As the work day ended and co-workers wished me luck as they left for the weekend, I was still too busy with my work to realize that it probably was the last time I would ever see them again. Even after my employers, on their way out, told me how much they appreciated my work and how much they would miss me, I still couldn't feel anything. Work still needed to get done and phone calls still needed to be returned.
Finally, after a long week of seemingly non-stop working, after packing up the last of my personal items, after gathering up all my gifts, I walked out of the office building and cried. It finally hit me that I have closed the door on a significant chapter of my life and that door will never be opened again.
I will miss my weekday morning T ride to that office building in Boston. I will miss walking up 9 flights of stairs (elevators scare me!) to our suite. I will miss my office, the one with the view of Boston all the way to the Tobin bridge. I will miss my co-workers, even the ones I merely say "hi" to and nothing more. I will miss my employers, two men who taught me what it means to be a good boss. I will miss working at an office where I know I was needed and sincerely appreciated.
Another set of good-byes have been said and the most difficult one is yet to come.
posted by Margie at 9:26 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home