Spheres

After I sent that email to Superstar yesterday about the multitude of reasons I couldn't go to his mother's funeral, I couldn't shake the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. This is the most horrible thing to happen to him in his life, and he wants me to be there with him, and I want to be there because I loved his mother, too, but I'm not going because why?

Because this week at work is insanely busy - I have to travel to Cosmopolis, orchestrate an event, go to three back-to-back meetings, come back, and organize materials for another event next week. Not to mention the homework I'm behind on, the fact that I'd have to get someone to take care of my house and pets, and that the plane ticket cost $500 I don't have.

They were all valid reasons but that didn't make me feel any better.

Something a former boss of mine said came back to me. She described all of the things in our life as spheres, being juggled in the air. Work, family/relationships, health, whatever else. She said that the work sphere was made of rubber, so that if it fell, it could bounce back, but the spheres were made of glass, and if they fell, they would smash into tiny little pieces.

This "life lesson" coming from this particular person was a complete crock of shit. She talked a good talk about work/life balance but when it came down to it, if you weren't running your ass off working 12-hour days and on weekends, she would make your life a living hell. But that doesn't mean her analogy's not true.

I kept imagining that glass sphere smashing on the ground again, and again, and again. I burst into tears because I knew that's what this was. There are some things in life that are important, and there are some that you can let go. Ten years from now, I'm not going to regret that I didn't make it to work for a week, but I knew I would regret the fact that I wasn't there when Superstar needed me most.

Bawling my head off with snot pouring out of my nose and greasy hair, I threw my trench coat on over my sweats and fuzzy slippers and went in to work. I figured since it was Sunday, no one would be there anyway, so why bother getting dressed or having a shower?

I was wrong. One of the managers was there. He asked me how it was going and I burst into tears in front of him, saying something along the lines of: "Superstar's mom died and I have to fly out to BC to go to the funeral or I'll regret it for the rest of my life but I have all this work to do and I have to do it or else it won't get done and there's that event and..." and then I sobbed. I sobbed in front of the nice manager guy. Classy. At least I didn't snot on his shoes.

He was so sweet about it, and told me that I shouldn't be at work and I should call the head boss to tell him I had to go, and the work would get done other ways. I told him that I had to get things in order myself or else I'd feel guilty about dumping the work on other people, and they wouldn't know what there was to do anyway.

So, I wrote a news release, made some calls (sobbing), sent a flurry of emails and set everything up so that I could leave work at work. Then I called one of my classmates (sobbing) and asked her if she'd house/pet-sit for me. She agreed, even though she is really busy. I'm going to have to shower her with presents when I get back, because that was a huge weight off my shoulders.

I booked my flight and called Superstar to tell him I'd be there after all. "I can't believe you're actually going to be here," he said, and then he cried and I cried and I knew I was doing the right thing.

So, I'm letting all those bouncy balls go (yes, even NaBloPoMo), and I'm going to stand beside Superstar while he says goodbye to the most important person in his life. And I'm not going to have any regrets.