I Know The Truth

My best friend and her husband died together in 2012. There was a lot of bad stuff going on both between them and around them. And I’m sure there were things going on that I don’t even know – or want to know.

The husband, Owen, had applied for several jobs and was able to get pretty good employment for night shift, which his wife, Laura, hated. She wanted him home at night no matter what – right or wrong. So he had quit the few jobs he had obtained.

Owen had applied to the local utility company for employment and they had called a year ago to tell him that they had a list and had employed the guy at the top of the list and that Owen was next on the list. As soon as there was an opening, he would be called and offered a job. We were all excited and happy for him. Good pay, good benefits. All we had to do was wait for good news.

The morning Owen and Laura died, the utility company called. Their son answered and had to tell the supervisor that they had died that morning. Everyone was shocked about the timing of the call. If they had just hung on another day! If they had only known that things were about to change for the better!

Yeah. Right.

See, it doesn’t work that way. The Universe has a definite sense of humor – and it’s cruel beyond belief and malevolent. Owen and I were members of the same group.

I just cannot get a break. I wait and wait and wait for something, anything to come shining through the blackness. I am willing to work for it. I know that everyone must “pay their dues” to obtain it. Yet, no matter what I do, whoever I ask for help, no matter how hard I’ve worked to set the foundation for success, I simply can’t seem to achieve it.

What is the magic algorithm? There have been many times in my life when I’ve thought. Oh! I finally made it! I’ve finally found the correct path and done what was necessary to achieve something. I will have something to show for this! Sheer will and determination has finally done something for me! Now, I’ll get a break. Someone will recognize that I have something to offer!

That’s how people are successful. People higher up from them recognize that they are dedicated or smart or personable or good looking or all of the above and they work with them to make them successful. There are huge obstacles along the way. But if you have managed to become successful, you’ve been helped over the obstacles, listened to, understood, etc. in order to overcome them.

No one is “self made”. No one.

So I have to accept that I am, in fact, not smart enough, not dedicated enough, not personable enough, and/or not good looking enough to excel. And I’ve accepted all of those things. It’s not just my perspective and beliefs that have brought me to this point. Those things are based on experience and learning. They are not something someone makes up out of thin air. After years of failure, you come to accept that you are a failure. But you continue to hope. You hope you’re wrong. You hope it’s just taking you a little longer to find your way, to “bloom”.

I have never had a mentor. I have never had anyone who thought I had anything to offer in the world of work. And I have an example:

When I worked at a private probation firm, my boss told me he was going to take me with him to a nearby small town court that we had a contract with to take people put on probation as clients. He gave me three weeks notice because he wanted to make sure I was ready.

He reminded me on the three days that I worked during the week there (part-time) to make sure to remember the date and be dressed appropriately and ready. I thought, “OK, I finally found my niche. I finally have someone in management (the owner of the company, no less) who sees that I’m motivated and ready and can take over this court for him soon. This is going to lead to a full time job and I won’t have to worry anymore.” As the few weeks passed, he continued to remind me.

I worked on Fridays and I lived across the street from the office so it was easy to walk across the street (and bring my own laptop to work with). I felt I went “above and beyond” with my job in order to “make a place” for me and make everyone else’s job easier.

We had an old geezer (Earl) who worked there as a probation officer (full-time). He had retired many years earlier from Federal Probation, lived in a million dollar house in Oakland and came to the office and sat at the front desk with his feet up on the desk for most of the day. He was, honestly, every day of eighty-years old. But he had “tenure” or whatever you would call it because my boss thought he was a really great employee.

The Friday before Monday court came and I happily went to work. After awhile, I went to my boss’s office to remind him that I was excited about going to court on Monday. He said, “Oh, Earl has decided that he wants to go – so I’m taking him instead.” And I was past devastated.

I thought that a younger woman dressed sharply with the appropriate education would make a much more favorable impression on the court officials in the small town than some old dried-up male who would shuffle folders around and make noise. Apparently, my boss didn’t agree with what I believed. So that was that.

Having the rug pulled out from under you and landing on your butt hurts just as much in metaphor as it does in real life. I had the wind knocked out of me. Then I had to stand back up and retain my dignity and go on. I’ve had to do that so many times in my life. And it gets harder and harder each time.

I know the truth about the phone call from the utility company for Owen. He had struggled all of his life just like me. Do you want to know the truth? Seriously?

If Owen had not died that morning, there would have been no phone call. I know the truth. He wouldn’t have received that news because he was so very much like me: here to struggle with everyday life and watch friends move up and move on and never understand what you were doing wrong.