Five Years of Freedom
Five years ago today was my first day of freedom from the shackles of corporate life. I don’t know what made me think of my five year milestone, but it struck me yesterday as I was walking Mae home from a play date with one of her best friends. I guess I got to thinking about how my life has changed so drastically over the last five years. There I was, walking Mae home in the rain – listening to her whine and cry about not having an umbrella — and how she wanted to stay longer for the play date – and – how she was still hungry and wanted me to do something about it – NOW!
There I was, pulling my youngest child in a wagon, walking through lightly falling rain, and thinking that it was five years ago my corporate identity vanished. My nice corporate email, all my perks, my company car, all the people I knew (some I loved, some not-so-much) – and my favorite client — no more. The only thing left for me to do was sell my house and catch what I hoped to be my last flight for a long while to my new home in Toronto.
That’s what I was thinking as I pulled Mae through the falling rain. Listening to her whine and complain. I was thinking how lucky I was to sell my house when I did (it sold within 15 minutes!) – the housing market imploded not long after that. I was thinking how lucky I was to have a second chance at being a father – an INVOLVED father. I remember sitting in my freshly-painted house – five years ago – thinking about how I gave up just about everything I thought so precious to me. I gave away most of my material possessions. I gave up my corporate badge. I gave up, or gave away, just about everything so I could leave the country I so love to go live in a country I knew nothing about – to raise a child who wouldn’t show up in the world for another six months. What was I thinking?
I do remember thinking raising a child would be so much easier than dealing with corporate life. Tolerating the pressures of managing not one, but TWO Fortune FIVE companies for one of the oldest high-tech companies in the world. Surely raising a child would give me time to decompress (a word often used in the corporate world) – time to regroup, and figure out what I’d do with my life once the baby was self-sufficient and could go to daycare – or wherever it is self-sufficient babies go. I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I just wanted to earn my GOOD DAD badge, and then get back to my regularly scheduled program. Yeah. Right.
So. There I was. Yesterday. Thinking. Thinking that five years ago I was checking my corporate email one last time. Making sure my expenses were paid and deposited in my account, and calling a few friends to wish them well and boast a little about how my new life would be so much easier and stress-free. Five years ago. If only I would have known then what I know now.
There I was. Yesterday. Pulling my youngest daughter in her wagon, through lightly falling rain. Thinking.
I was thinking. I’ve done a pretty good job. I was thinking. This job of raising a child is so much tougher – a LOT tougher – than anything I EVER experienced in all my years of corporate or start-up life. I was thinking. When it comes to raising a child – you can’t fire them – you can’t relocate or redeploy them – they can’t fire you. I was thinking. You’re stuck with each other, and it’s a life-long project. Life-long. Wow.
Do I miss corporate life? Do I wish I had it all back? Those nice client dinners? The getaways to some of the most lush and wonderful places in the world – disguised as business meetings? All the perks. All the fun. All the drama. All the money?
I’m thinking.
Okay. Okay. No. I don’t miss it. Much. I am very happy that I’ve stuck this raising Mae thing out. She’s not a baby any longer. She’s not even a toddler. She’s a…. well – she’s got a mind of her own. She tells me what SHE thinks. She ponders. She sings. She dances. She loves. She cries. She’s the mayor of our neighborhood. She knows so many people, and so many more people know her. She’s a mini-me – she’s a lot like her mother. She can dress herself. She can write her name. She tries to read the back of the cereal box in the morning. She tells me she loves me. She means it. I get a performance report every single morning – a kiss and a hug most of the time – and a gruff and grumpy little girl other times.
Five years. Where did the time go? I’m writing this as my four-year-old lays in our bed – she has a cough and a tummy ache. I decided to keep her home from school. I worry about her incessantly. But, you know – it’s all been worth it. I’ve learned so much about being a father – but I’ve also learned so much about who I am – not who I THINK I am or was or will be. There is a difference – and it took me five years to figure that out. And – I’m still learning. I’m learning it doesn’t matter much what I THINK – it matters only that I’m present – in the moment – giving it my all.
Nope. I thought about it. I wouldn’t trade what I have to go back to the way things were. I look forward to the next five years. I particularly look forward to 497 days from now – the day Mae goes off to first grade – to full-time school – from 8:35 – 3:40 each day. What will I do with all that free time?
I’m thinking.
