Bittersweet
As I settle into the role I have had now for about two years and find my place within our team, I have become a source of support for one of my colleagues, a young women who impresses me greatly. When I was her age, I had no idea of where life was taking me, I just went with the flow taking advantage of opportunities that drifted by. Whereas this young women has a clear plan of where she wants to be and how she is going to get there, her drive, motivation and foresight are impressive, she is wise beyond her years and does it all with humility and care.
It’s been a while since we have seen each other and today we had the chance to catch up, whilst purchasing some equipment together. Over breakfast we delved into what had been happening since we had seen each other last, I was particularly interested in the progress of her Phd. I was asked about how I deal with conflict with other colleagues as she was having issues with one. We discussed our MBTI characteristics and how they can be misinterpreted. We talked about a health ailment I’m managing at the moment and my imposter syndrome. Then we talked about what was deeply concerning her and it was complex and yes it was to do with love.
Having had an emotional melt down or two in my time, I’ve learnt that this is when you listen. My role was not to fix, it was to understand and if I’m able to, give some advice when its asked for. Of course I’m not going into the details of our discussion and break the trust that was given to me, but let’s just say that when it comes to love, things are never simple.
One of the losses that a large section of the childless community mourn is not being able to correct the wrongs of their own upbringing with their own children. My parents did the best they could to bring up their children and we haven’t turned out too bad. I didn’t want to be the ‘blocker’ that my dad was, his logic would always find the reasons why not to do something, rather than see things as a chance to grow. I vowed that this blocking behaviour would end with me, my sister has done the same with her children as she also experienced the blocking. I’ve realised that one of the skills to do this well is to have a good balance between when to use logic and when to turn it off as things get emotive. In my opinion when things get emotive the best course of action is to listen and try to understand. Sadly, I thought I’d have to come to terms with the fact that all this self appointed wisdom I’ve acquired would go to waste.
Back at the breakfast table, as our discussion deepened, this young woman checked in to say “ I’m sorry for dumping this all on you, but your one of the main people that I look too for support”. “No, no, no, I feel so honoured that you share these intimate details of your life with me, I’m honoured that you trust me with this, I’m honoured that you seek my counsel” I reply. I could feel the emotion welling up with what I wanted to say next “I may tear up with what I’m about to say, please don’t worry” I say as my voice gets a higher pitch, I pause to settle myself, “This makes me feel like the father I wanted to be” I manage to get out before my voice cracks.
Here we paused, not an awkward silence it was a recognition that no words where needed we knew a beautiful moment had just occurred, special for each of us in our own way.
As I was not close to home, when we said our goodbyes I couldn’t wait to share this with Vickie and yes it was with a cracking voice. Her thoughts echoed mine, “Ahhh… that’s beautiful” she tells me and when she said her goodbyes, I hear the crack in her voice.
