It’s the same old sunken feeling. Another slow day in the
office. But would I prefer a faster paced back-to-back meeting kind of a day? I
think not.
That wretched feeling dogging me all morning has sapped away
too much of my energy. Once again, I found myself stuck at low gear. No, more
like stalled. Starring listlessly at an endless trail of unread emails, I
wondered if I even deserved the space, table and all the office paraphernalia strewn
all around me. Not least the crew assigned to my department and whom I would
assume rightly are all toiling diligently at their own workstations just outside
my room, not half-suspecting that their boss, within the privacy of his own
personal space is so torn in grief. Surely
they deserve better?
So for the umpteenth time I agonised on that dreaded
decision. To hang up my boots and hand in my resignation. Or call for an early retirement. Whatever.
But I will need to craft out an acceptable reason. Without sounding awkward or
pathetic. What a way to end more than 35
years of my career. To see it nose-diving on a tailspin.
How do I explain my situation without putting the blame on
my deceased wife? Why should I be leaving, when there is still unfinished work
to be done? And would I regret the decision later? Once the dreaded R word is
announced there is no withdrawal. Not without massive loss of pride.
So I hesitate. For work has thus far been useful. It takes my mind off from the pain, for long stretches
of the day at least. Time slips by quickly
when the intensity of work builds up. Plus I am surrounded by great colleagues.
Well most are, if not all. I really cannot ask for better ones.
Jenny would be disappointed if she knew that I quit early.
She loved her work, even though as an operation executive in an offshore supply
company, she has to deal with tonnes of paperwork and numbers to crunch. If she
could, she would work till the very last day that it becomes illegal for any
company to hire her anymore because of age.
She was ever the quintessential employee.
When the kids were young, I had previously suggested that
she consider being a stay-at-home-Mum.
“No way. What do I do
for money? Stretch out my hand to you
at the end of each month? Would you be able to offer me annual leave or CPF
savings?” Non-negotiable.
We soon
learn to cope with raising three kids with domestic help. It helped that we
were blessed for 24 years with a wonderful Filipina lady who came close to
being the kids’ second mother. We learn how to spend high quality time with the
kids outside of work to build a lasting bond.
But Jenny was never quite the career woman much as she loved
her work. Her heart was always with the family. That said, you cannot fault her loyalty. She stayed more than 30 years with the same
offshore company.
“What would you do if
you retire early?” She would ask me each time I suggested quitting early. “An idle mind would deteriorate quickly”.
She knew how to make me feel embarrassed and even guilty about
my real reason for wanting to retire ahead of time, which is to laze around and
do nothing for a change. Obviously, aside from getting senile early, she was
concerned about me degenerating into a bum.
But for now, work is therapeutic. Even as I struggle to keep
pace. Even as Jenny keeps popping up whenever there is a lull. Even as each
day, busy as it might be, would eventually wind down and I have to drag my feet
back home. Ironically, since her passing on, this is the worse part of work,
the going home part. Knowing that she will not be there when I step into the
house. Each time it hits me, without
fail, my heart takes a plunge.
How oppositely different it was when she was alive. Going
home was the best time of the day. Who would not be looking forward to knocking
off after a hard day’s work? An insane workaholic, maybe. But that’s not me.
No comments:
Post a Comment