Ten more days

Ten more days to go. Ten more days of being surrounded by some of the most wonderful people in the world- my staff- my friends. Ten more days of commuting and eating Trader Joe's salads. Ten more days of solving business problems. Ten more days of fear, anticipation, tears and joy.

I have been holding it together for the most part. I have eaten more farewell breakfasts and lunches with staff, friends and clients and have probably put on my extra 10 pounds before the holidays even begin. And I have been keeping my calm, not shedding too many tears since I do not want the staff to see me bawling. But today, as I packed one of three boxes of belongings, tears welled up as I tried to quickly exit the office. I was amazed at how three boxes could hold 37 years of my life. They are filled with all sorts of things- a copy of my first check, photos of my kids, a bunch of staff photos, financial reports from 20 years ago, 4 different sets of staff lists, various and sundry lectures I have given, and maybe a half dozen pieces I designed a long time ago.

Cleaning out my desk was both cathartic and weird. My files that seemed so important at one time were easily chucked into the shredding pile without a thought. But cleaning out my desk was the first time I felt that my life right now is changing. It felt wrenching and liberating simultaneously.
Pieces of my new life have been intruding- a few urgent emails from Nancy in the middle of client meetings- which I focused on more than my client's voice. Plans for the barn are taking the place of plans for expansion. My calendar which is chock full of meetings is strangely empty after the new year. Morning calls with the new president of Grafik are sentimental and a verbal two way love fest in the best sense of the word. He calms my nerves and I calm him. A strange transition tango.

My box is full of memories- yesterday at our monthly staff meeting each member stood up and shared what they will miss the most about me leaving. Tears aplenty, warm feelings, bittersweet memories, but for me, a sense of accomplishment that what I set out to do, I did.