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ninanevermoreToday over my morning coffee, I was thinking about my friend Joy, and the conversation I had with her the day after I lost my job. As soon as I got the ax, I sent out an email to all of my personal contacts telling them not to email at the office anymore and why. But that was not my last day in the office. My friends Joe paid me $50 to come in the next day and teach him everything I knew, since he would be taking over my duties. Never being one to turn down an opportunity to freelance, I took him up on it.
The first thing I noticed when I sat down at my old desk was that I had a voicemail. It was from Joy. I thought it was cute that she would leave me a message on my office phone the day after I told her I no longer worked there. I didn't call her back right away, though. I was working on Joe's dime, so I gave my attention to him and his questions and resolved to call Joy that afternoon.
Then Jeff called me from home and told me that I had to call her sooner rather than later.
"She's been burning the phone off the wall all morning," he said.
"Yeah, she left me a message here, too."
"For crying out loud, call her. She obviously really wants to talk to you."
When Joe announced that he was ready for a lunch break, I finally returned Joy's calls. We discussed my layoff and that I would be okay, and we said all of the mundane things people say under the circumstances. She sounded very worried about me, though I told her not to be. She inquired about my husband and son, and other general things. Then, a good 15 minutes into the conversation, she casually mentioned her own problem that was weighing on her that day.
"Oh, yeah, by the way," she said calmly, nonchalantly, "my father died this morning."
I was stunned for a moment.
"What?"
"My father died this morning."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry!" I frowned, and made sure she could hear the frown in my voice. "Why the hell have we been discussing my stupid job all this time?"
"Well, that's a big deal. You have a house and a baby and everything." I noticed for the first time that her voice sounded a little spacey, and her usual spark was diminished.
"Losing a job is not as big of a deal as loosing a father," I pointed out incredulously. "I'll get another job."
She told me he'd been in a convalescent home since August, when he'd had surgery to relive fluid on his brain. The doctors drained the fluid, but he had sustained neurological damage and had been suffering from dementia ever since. Her mild mannered father, who had almost never even raised his voice before, had taken to throwing chairs at people and swearing incessantly, in both English and his native Tagalog.* This was the first I'd heard of this. Joy does not talk about her problems much, and before had only commented that her father was "ill."
"How's your mother?" I asked.
"Oh, you know. She's crying and all that. She's pretty upset. I'm the only one of the kids that lives here, so I'm trying to help her as much as I can. I reached my sister in France and my other sister in Colorado, but I can't get a hold of my brother in California. I've been leaving him messages all morning." Not unlike the way she'd been leaving me messages all morning. I felt a twinge of guilt for not calling her back immediately.
"Are you okay?"
"Of course. I'll be okay. These things happen. I'm always okay."
And then she had to go. Her aunt had shown up, and there were details to attend to and arrangements to be made.
I looked out the window to the office that was no longer my office and thought about how funny Joy is. She is the first one to offer help or sympathy to anyone who needs it, but she has a hard time accepting anything from anyone else. It's even impossible to give her a gift, because she will turn around and buy you something even more extravagant than what you got her. For example, one time I send her a teddy bear that I found in a thrift shop, because she collects teddy bears. It was a Boyd's bear that I picked up on impulse because I though she would like it. It cost me all of $5.
What did she send me in return? A DVD player. I don't dare send her any more teddy bears, lest I end up with a flat-screen TV that I doubt she can afford.
That's how she is: she can't let herself be in debt to anyone. So on the day her father died, she called me to offer condolences over the loss of a job I wasn't even that close to and had only known for a few years.
Some people are strange like that.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
* an Austronesian language of the Tagalog people in the Philippine Islands.
The first thing I noticed when I sat down at my old desk was that I had a voicemail. It was from Joy. I thought it was cute that she would leave me a message on my office phone the day after I told her I no longer worked there. I didn't call her back right away, though. I was working on Joe's dime, so I gave my attention to him and his questions and resolved to call Joy that afternoon.
Then Jeff called me from home and told me that I had to call her sooner rather than later.
"She's been burning the phone off the wall all morning," he said.
"Yeah, she left me a message here, too."
"For crying out loud, call her. She obviously really wants to talk to you."
When Joe announced that he was ready for a lunch break, I finally returned Joy's calls. We discussed my layoff and that I would be okay, and we said all of the mundane things people say under the circumstances. She sounded very worried about me, though I told her not to be. She inquired about my husband and son, and other general things. Then, a good 15 minutes into the conversation, she casually mentioned her own problem that was weighing on her that day.
"Oh, yeah, by the way," she said calmly, nonchalantly, "my father died this morning."
I was stunned for a moment.
"What?"
"My father died this morning."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry!" I frowned, and made sure she could hear the frown in my voice. "Why the hell have we been discussing my stupid job all this time?"
"Well, that's a big deal. You have a house and a baby and everything." I noticed for the first time that her voice sounded a little spacey, and her usual spark was diminished.
"Losing a job is not as big of a deal as loosing a father," I pointed out incredulously. "I'll get another job."
She told me he'd been in a convalescent home since August, when he'd had surgery to relive fluid on his brain. The doctors drained the fluid, but he had sustained neurological damage and had been suffering from dementia ever since. Her mild mannered father, who had almost never even raised his voice before, had taken to throwing chairs at people and swearing incessantly, in both English and his native Tagalog.* This was the first I'd heard of this. Joy does not talk about her problems much, and before had only commented that her father was "ill."
"How's your mother?" I asked.
"Oh, you know. She's crying and all that. She's pretty upset. I'm the only one of the kids that lives here, so I'm trying to help her as much as I can. I reached my sister in France and my other sister in Colorado, but I can't get a hold of my brother in California. I've been leaving him messages all morning." Not unlike the way she'd been leaving me messages all morning. I felt a twinge of guilt for not calling her back immediately.
"Are you okay?"
"Of course. I'll be okay. These things happen. I'm always okay."
And then she had to go. Her aunt had shown up, and there were details to attend to and arrangements to be made.
I looked out the window to the office that was no longer my office and thought about how funny Joy is. She is the first one to offer help or sympathy to anyone who needs it, but she has a hard time accepting anything from anyone else. It's even impossible to give her a gift, because she will turn around and buy you something even more extravagant than what you got her. For example, one time I send her a teddy bear that I found in a thrift shop, because she collects teddy bears. It was a Boyd's bear that I picked up on impulse because I though she would like it. It cost me all of $5.
What did she send me in return? A DVD player. I don't dare send her any more teddy bears, lest I end up with a flat-screen TV that I doubt she can afford.
That's how she is: she can't let herself be in debt to anyone. So on the day her father died, she called me to offer condolences over the loss of a job I wasn't even that close to and had only known for a few years.
Some people are strange like that.
* an Austronesian language of the Tagalog people in the Philippine Islands.
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 05:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 09:57 pm (UTC)And to you. I also empathize the job loss situation . . . intimately.
But I understand how she feels about the whole gift thing. I absolutely love sending random things to my friends, but I feel extremely guilty whenever anyone sends me anything. I can't explain it. It's just the way the brain works sometimes.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 05:42 am (UTC)can't let herself be in debt
Date: 2007-03-01 10:00 pm (UTC)Re: can't let herself be in debt
Date: 2007-03-02 05:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 05:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 05:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 05:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 05:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 02:25 am (UTC)She sounds like incredibly good people and the loss of her father and her inability to let down her wall makes me a little sad. On the other hand, I admire her strength.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 05:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-02 03:50 pm (UTC)Poor woman. I'm so sorry for her. I'd be a wreck. I don't even want to think about it...