Worth it?

I saw a quote online recently (apologies I don’t remember the source), about how we are all replaceable by AI at the office, but we are all irreplaceable at home with our family.  Having retired in 2022, it’s easy for me to look back and question/dissect/reflect about my days of heavy business travel.  Away from home. Away from my family.  Justifying it with my W-2.

Many of you have “been there, done that” as well, true?  (Many are there now.) 

Of course in today’s “modern world”, business flights every week have been replaced by Zoom.  Long hours in the office have been replaced by work-from-home (or, as I prefer to describe it, “live at work”). 

That online quote came almost simultaneously to a book I just finished, Son of Nobody © by Yann Martel, a novel about a scholar at Oxford researching a combatant in the Trojan War.  This characters’ line gave me pause after he lost his marriage and was absent when his 9-year old daughter died: 

It's a question that has always haunted me: was my work worth it?  For all the joy of it, and that joy was real, were those hours and weeks and months worth it, when they kept me away…? 

We see it don’t we?  At a restaurant the couple next to us; she on her iPad, he talking on his Air Pods.  We see them at the kids’ game, cell phone in hand, drawn to checking email.  Attending a VRBO family vacation and upon arrival ensuring first, last, and in between wireless network and password access.  Or simply grocery shopping while simultaneously “checking in” from our phone.  Oops!  Sorry for bumping into you. 

Yes, I know.  Moms will say, “I am there for my kids!”  But in reality we all know you can be there and not “be there”.  Dads’ minds; attention; and worries are not about whether their child’s piano recital is going off without a hitch, but rather what’s going on “back at the office”.  Which “there” was he at? 

I’m no better. In between President’s Clubs, commission checks, and stock options, I missed much of my sons’ childhood.  Not to mention the added stress my absence put on my wife and our marriage.  Acknowledging my guilt perhaps, I wrote a meager poem back in the day: 

A shared prayer from the Mayflower to the modern day road warrior: 

We know before leavin'

    The ride will be bumpy

    The quarters will be dumpy

    The stewards will be grumpy

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    The days will be long

    ETAs promised will be wrong

    Success smiles on only the strong

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    Our family will pine

    We'll miss children's' prime

    We barter money for time

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    To no one we sob

    While pursuing our job

    Our energy travels rob

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    And we pray every evening

    Lord, get me home safe

    And I'll call the rest even. 

Look, you may not like my poem.  You may not like this message.  You may not like my posts.  You may not like me.  Regardless, I beseech you to hear these words from an aging road warrior.  Prioritizing career over family – IT’S NOT WORTH IT! 

GAP 

When life gets tough we could get a helmet… or… we could leverage the peace and share the power of a positive perspective.

Moms are special…

My Mom was special - I bet your Mom, too.  This coming Sunday is Mother’s Day.  In mind; in memory; or in person; let’s be sure to make it special for Mom.  They often lead us when we’re in over our head:

Among many other qualities, they are lifetime mentors and teachers.  Remember the life-long lessons you learned?  I do. 

What my Mother taught me: 

My Mother taught me logic;

“Because I said so, that's why.” 

My Mother taught me irony;

“Keep laughing and I'll give you something to cry about.” 

My Mother taught me about the science of osmosis:

“Shut your mouth and eat your supper!" 

Unknown Sage 

Mothers offer us encouragement in just the right way, also… even at risk of hurting our feelings: 

My mother always encouraged me to be myself.  “Unless you’re going to be boring on that day, in which case do us all a favor and be someone else.” 

Joan Rivers 

But more than anything else, Moms have a special and immeasurable reservoir of power, true?  My Mom did.  She was stricken with cancer when I was 6 years old.  In fact, I cannot remember a time when she was not ill.  The last 15 years of her life were spent undergoing continuous treatments: 

I watched my Mom’s great power, which she needed in order to deal with a new cancer treatment in the late 1960’s that was so unimaginably harsh – the administration of this treatment was solely based on the primitive science of trial and error.  The doctors’ routine consisted of observing how much of a dose could she tolerate without it killing her. 

It was an experimental treatment back then; offered only as a last resort for terminally ill cancer patients. This wasn’t a cure; just a radical option to extend one’s life a precious little more.  Because of her staying power she survived another two years before finally succumbing in 1974. My Mom’s power, and that of so many others like her, helped pave the way to the development of today’s commonly used, life-saving cancer treatment we all know as chemotherapy. 

How many special Moms have sacrificed trying to fight terrible diseases (and brutal treatments) so the rest of us can benefit from the exaggerated term, “modern medicine”? 

Mother’s Day - make it special for your Mom if she’s living; make it special for you through your memories of your Mom if she’s not. 

GAP 

When life gets tough we could get a helmet… or… we could leverage the peace and share the power of a positive perspective.