Commandeer Jodi (who can be as bitchy as Beckah) ordered me to get in touch with people whom I haven’t spoken with in a year. I’ve no communication with them whatsoever being on this Sabbatical, the center of my universe has been my back deck.
My support systems have been Fran’s thousand shades of green, a tight circle of friends and a dog. Quiet reflection have been the norm. Words were no longer necessary. Fran is now an angel who hovers over this place. There isn’t a day that goes by that she doesn’t tell me how loved I am. She and Goddess must talk regularly because she lets me know too. Then these friends … well, if it’s patterns that define behavior then … they let me know too.
Out of nowhere others started coming into my life. Some college friends were raised from the dead and another net was strung under the high wire act that’s been my life.
Then a few others showed up here asking if they could be a part of my future. With sadness consuming me, I looked at them as though they had lost their minds. What future? I had no idea what I wanted to do. I didn’t want to do anything. But they persisted.
There were a handful of others … scattered around that I stayed in touch with, meaning they heard from me or saw once or twice in a year … Terry, Karen, Peter, Tina, Philip and Herb … That was it.
It’s been a small world.
After living most of my life in a very large way, it’s been … fascinating. My college friend Mitch just left. He’s leaving his career just like I left mine. I was asking him about cleaning out his office and saying that I’ve got a lot plaques that I don’t know what to do with. Hell, I’ve got an Olympic Torch that I don’t know what to do with!
These things looked great in my office but they don’t fit so well into my house. I was telling Sarah the other day that my new office is my back deck and that I’m getting a sign to read “Micheal Elliott Enterprises, Corporate Offices.”
“You need to have on drift wood,” she quipped.
So I sent out messages to a lot of people whom haven’t heard from me in a year asking them a favor. “Would you be willing to say some things about my work? What kind of difference did it make? How others would benefit from these experiences?”
It’s a strange exercise. I went through the names of elected people, government employees, some who were intense partners, former Board members, news personalities … just about every kind of person.
A thirty-one year career means that I ended up knowing lot people. I worked with them, drank with them, we ate together, told sortied jokes with them that will get you into trouble if email them, had long talks with each other and stayed in one another’s homes.
But it had been a year. I’ve given them nothing. My small universe did not include them.
So it was humbling to ask for a favor when I’d given nothing. Throughout my career, I always had something to give. I could help with this or that. I could make introductions. I could do magic. But … I’ve mostly just sat on my Back Deck, my stool at the Breakfast Club, my seat at the Bored meeting or Shirley’s sad little holy dock.
For the first time ever, it’s just been about me.
It was hard to ask for the favor.
Because I love Stacy Jennings so much, I still get the Savannah Morning News and thumb though it every morning at the Breakfast Club. Then they grab it and rip it in a hundred different directions. The crossword puzzle is most popular part, followed by used car adds, the apartment search section, sports, tide chart and horoscopes. I’m not sure anyone actually reads any news (EXCEPT … anything written by Skutch!).
Over the past few months I’ve noticed while reading of others whom I’ve worked with who are no longer where they were. These were friends at hospitals, universities and even Catholic Charities. They’re all gone. Just like I am!
Savannah of course, goes on without us.
But yesterday when email started buzzing I was overwhelmed at the responses of my request for a favor. Throughout the day came notes and comments and promises from people scattered everywhere. The things that they had to say were … overwhelming.
After dragging me out on a night on the town, Mitch and I were sitting in the Corporate Headquarters office and I was telling him about all of this.
Mitch has this great gift. He can be stoic with the best of them while being impish at the same time. He thinks hard and deep but uses humor to make his points. It’s one of the many things I love about him. So sitting in the dark after a night on the town with our feet propped on the rail, he looks over as only he can do … with this smile that some would swear is a smirk … and said …
“You made a difference. Why are surprised?”
