The Cost of My Job

It’s days like today I feel both blessed and cursed to have the job I do.  An hour ago, the wife of the coworker who passed last week came in to see me.  She cried when we walked passed her husbands office: my heart broke.  She was here to fill out the death insurance claim form.  I had also arranged to have the owners of the company come to speak to her — they have offered to pay for all the funeral costs.  No words can explain the grief I felt in her.  I could feel her pain in the pit of my stomach, and all I could do was let her know how sorry I was.

This is my job, and unfortunately, I’ve been in this position too many times.  I’ve held the hands of the mothers, sons, daughters, fathers, wives and husbands of past employees.  It never gets easier, but I realize my job is an important one.  My empathy is what makes me good at my job, but it also drains me completely.  When the grieving loved one leaves my office, I’m sink into my chair with feelings of sadness.  The only way to do this job is to allow myself to feel, so I can move on.

Luckily, tonight I have plans to meet a good girlfriend of mine at my new condo.  I have no furniture there yet, but most of the new floor has gone in.  We are bringing our dogs and a couple bottles of wine.  She is picking up some plastic wine glasses at the dollar store, and we plan break in my new place with some cheer.  CLASSY Girls.

Image result for Sitting on the floor drinking wine

Happy Friday Friends.  I wish you all happiness.

 

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6 thoughts on “The Cost of My Job

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