One hundred and twelve days,
and counting.
As the date of my husband’s
retirement draws nearer, the reality of the change we’re about to undergo begins
to press home. Sometimes, I’ve been guilty of looking at what’s about to happen
to us as we enter this brand new phase of our lives—embracing David’s
retirement—through the lens of how it will affect me. I’m working hard to
let that go for awhile, and concentrate instead on what this will mean for my
beloved.
Something David said the other
day really brought this need into focus for me. He said, “For the first time
since I was 16, I will not have a boss.”
That admission brought to mind
the very real fact that I, myself, have been without a boss since 2002. Over the
last fifteen years, I’d pretty much forgotten what a pall it can be to have a
boss. I think we can file that realization—that I’d ‘forgotten’ under the
heading, “denial is more than a river in Africa”. I spent some time over the
last few days recalling just what it was like. I figured this would be a good
way to really understand my husband’s state of mind.
In truth, over the course of my
working-outside-the-home career, I’ve had a couple of perfectly awful bosses—one
who claimed he shouldn’t be subjected to the sight of me with my cane; and one
who worked hard to try and make me quit so he could hire a former female
co-worker whom he really liked from his previous employer. That last situation
was a case of bad pheromones all the way around; he didn’t like me from first
sight, which really hurt me at the time. He found his victory when I had my
first heart attack; this company had a habit of getting rid of employees who
might need to take advantage of their “self-insured” long term
disability. My victory was in giving him, on that last day, a list of
books on people and leadership skills, pointing out to him that he didn’t have
any of either.
To this day, if I think too
hard about how either of those people treated me, or of what it was like to put
up with their verbal abuse and crap attitudes for as long as I did, I feel a
little bit sick to my stomach.
I’m excited for my husband to
get to that day of no boss.
David has been at the quarry
for nearly forty years. His first boss there, the man who owned
the then family business, who took over for his own father—this man just
recently passed away. There was no funeral per se, just a “celebration of life”
sort of visitation, and of course we attended. This man, though sometimes
driving my beloved to curse a blue streak, was nonetheless very good to us. He
was always there if an emergency arose, and trust me, we had more than a few of
them along the way. He was the first to offer a helping hand when we lost our
house to a fire, and much later, when I had to have emergency triple-bypass
surgery.
The first two bosses David had
after that man sold his family company to a large conglomerate were good, decent
men. They were fair, and sought to make the employees under them feel as if they
mattered. In turn, they quickly discovered the men now under their supervision
would work hard in return for that respect.
That last point leads me to
digress: why are corporate managers too stupid to understand this one salient
fact of human nature? Give an employee the sense he/she matters, let them know
their contribution is important and appreciated, treat them with respect, and
the return on that investment of time and attitude will make the corporate
bottom line swell! Doesn’t cost a damn penny, but returns thousands. I wish
they’d all get a clue.
The next two bosses David had,
however, clearly had no people or leadership skills. They completely killed
David’s love for his job. That was his largest source of personal pride, and of
the way he defined himself in the world. All that, and in the end two
exceptionally mediocre “corporate soldiers” took that away from him.
The boss he has now is a good
man, but for David, once some lines have been crossed, that’s it. His current
boss worked his way up through the ranks, and so he is less arrogant than the
previous two, more understanding that a company whose product is gravel for the
construction and cement industries is really built upon the work done by the men
on the floor—and that the quality of their work is directly related to the
respect and dignity with which they are treated. In short, he has good people
and leadership skills. The men under him feel as if he truly has their best
interests at heart. I think he does, because he has argued, successfully,
against a plan the company had last year to lay employees off early. It is a
seasonal industry and some layoffs are inevitable. Of course, David’s seniority
keeps him working the longest, but he had lots of layoffs with the company over
the years, especially in the beginning. In that regard, and many others he’s
paid his dues.
Right now, he’s at that stage
where he really wants to be done. He may have more than forty years in the tank,
and only four months left to go, but human nature is what it is. These last few
months are beginning to feel like forever to him.
He’s eager for his new
beginning.
Love,
Morgan
No comments:
Post a Comment