Dead parents club
We have a bit of a dead parents club in my department.
Two years ago, we all lost at least one parent or grandparent.
A couple of us are orphans.
Funny enough, my staffers who are older than me have at least one living parent.
In any event, my mom used to be the dorm mom … the friend group mom … the adult friend group mom … everyone’s bonus mom on Facebook … and yes, the work mom.
I still remember how thrilled they all were when she’d send baked goods to the office.
It’s weird that my mom isn’t the team mom anymore. I can’t fucking believe it, really. How is she not here?!
Carolyn is the one I’d consider to be the team mom these days.
Lumpy is the team cat, too. Replacing Belly, who used to join every meeting. But Belly says fuck this meeting shit. Meanwhile, Lumpy loves her daddy so much, she will tolerate our shit.
In any event, Carolyn has always had good motherly advice for us. Especially when handling difficult people.
Today I was texting Carolyn’s child about a situation I was in earlier and how I handled it.
I punctuated it with < / carolyn >.
I miss having my mom here to help me with how to handle people who throw off more mixed signals than an intersection that serves the Brightline, freight line, pedestrians and car traffic.
But it’s nice to know I can borrow Carolyn for these days when people who don’t have my same 25 years of experience have something to say about my outlook on the world where I learned from every damn hard knock that concussed me.