When the kind gentleman with the UPS uniform knocked on my door I immediately knew it was a package from my employer. I didn’t even need to look at the outside label to make that determination, somehow in my heart I just knew that’s who it was from.
As he handed over the envelope I thanked him and wished him a happy holiday. I wanted to say, “you’re delivering the details of my layoff”, but I simply closed the door behind me and peeled open the package. I was right and wrong. It was a envelope from my employer, (previous employer I guess I should say), but it wasn’t the details of my severance package. It was a check. The very last paycheck I should ever expect to receive from them.
I hate to admit it, but I was sad to open that envelope. As I looked down at that piece of paper I thought about the very first paycheck I received from them and how excited I was to start my employment there over twelve years ago.
Although my departure from work is a true blessing, (as I am now able to spend the first six months of my son’s life right by his side), I am still disheartened by the way I was let go after all these years. I’ve had my grievances against that place, but in many ways I feel like I grew up there after college.
Over the years I’ve realized that I’m not one who likes to say goodbye. In fact, it’s probably the reason I worked there so long in the first place, but like it or not that final check certainly put an end to my career there.
Luckily my husband quickly reminded me that continued employment would mean leaving my sweet baby boy all day in exchange for a mind numbing job stuck inside a cubicle. Although I’m still sad about the way things ended that thought certainly put a smile on my face.
In fact, if my employment had not ended I would have been forced to return to work in just two short weeks. With that thought in mind all I can say is thank God I was laid off, because I don’t know if I could bear leaving my little one so soon.
Sometimes life has a magical way of working out. Rather than unhappily returning to work or being forced to quit I am actually being paid to stay home for a few months with my child. Although I’m unhappy with the way things ended, deep in my heart I can’t imagine parting ways any better.
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