My Lessons To You, From The Empty

10 years ago this September, my dad very suddenly passed away. It completely devastated me and turned my world upside down. I learned what it was like to feel nothing, and how to exist as nothing for a while. I had hit a total rock bottom. It was like I had been dropped into a 500 foot depth well. There was no light, no air, no emotion. Nothing. I was empty.
He was my everything — my mentor, my confidant, my biggest fan, my discipline. He taught me great work ethic. He taught me how to never quit a team until the end of the season. He taught me empathy, patience, unconditional love, and how to listen — how to actively listen.
I’m so much my dad’s child, it scares me sometimes. What I carry on from him, I see every day — I enjoy each morning with a cup of coffee, alone. I love spreadsheets, both handwritten and in Excel. I love for things to be clean and organized. I’ll endlessly research my options before deciding on making a considerable purchase on something for myself. I need to try my jeans and winter coats on in person. I’ll need to tell myself to put the pretzels down after dinner because sometimes I just can’t stop.
More than anything though, I value my relationships and my time to myself, just like he did. My dad was a hard worker, but he knew the importance of needing to prioritize yourself and your family. Once I started working, he always stressed to me and my sister:
“when you are on vacation, you are on VACATION. You do not put ANY of your attention on work. You do not think about your emails. You do not answer your boss if they call you. You are on VACATION, because you only get so much vacation time in this life.”
Living in America, I see every day so many of my colleagues and friends forget this.
In 2012, my dad was working in Covington, Kentucky. This was of course all before COVID showed the world how remote work was possible in fields like his. This was also during the economic recovery, and he had already seen too many of his good friends let go from their jobs. Some of them had given twenty plus years to their company, but it didn’t matter. Corporations value profits over human lives.
I spoke with him on the phone the night before he passed away. I’ll never forget how exhausted he sounded, the strain and fatigue in his voice was palpable. He passed away alone, in his apartment in Kentucky. He was in Kentucky for work, only for work. No other reason. Because his job told him he couldn’t do it anymore in Boston, or from home. I spoke to him on Monday night. It happened that Tuesday, and he was due to fly home Friday for a surprise anniversary party with about 120 people who loved him.
The party of course didn’t happen and instead became a celebration of life in the same venue we were going to have the anniversary party in, resulting in people being crammed against the walls to fit. I don’t know or remember how many people showed up that day, but it was a lot. Like, a LOT. I remember looking around during the speeches people were giving and thinking, “wow, he was a part of so many people’s lives”.
So why am I digging deep on this issue? I want to tell — or remind those who need to hear it — that your job does not have to be everything, so don’t make it your everything if you don’t want it to be. One of the biggest gifts you can give to someone, especially those you care about, is your time.
We’re only given one life, and there’s so much beauty in it that can be found if we all just slow down a bit and refocus.
- It’s over the cups of tea together with a neighbor or friend.
- It’s in the buds that come in Springtime.
- It’s feeling your body move and push itself beyond what you thought was possible.
- It’s immersing yourself in a song.
- It’s the feeling you get when your body dances.
- It’s in reading a book and letting your mind travel to another world while you’re sitting on the couch while you’re sick at home.
- It’s in spending time with the people you love, whether they’re your family by blood or the family you choose.
- It’s in the moments when you are solving a tough problem, and you finally find the solution.
- It’s in the moments that you know you’ll remember when it’s your time to go.
I don’t know about you, but I know I won’t look back fondly on my overtime worked at a job, especially if I don’t feel respected from leadership in that job or role.
Am I forever jaded because my dad unfortunately had to uproot his life after a recession not seen in years and was terrified to lose his job since he had a family who depended on his income at the time? Yes. Do I strongly believe that work-induced stress contributed to his passing? Absolutely.
But what I do know is that I’ll never be that colleague who says, “I’ll be looking at my emails while on PTO”. I’ll never be that colleague who moves to another city merely for a job if I don’t want to move, and neither should you. So in his passing in that regard, I am thankful because I understand my time is for ME. That kind of work-induced stress is stress you don’t need, especially when it comes to your health.
A friend of mine recently helped reassure me of all of this too in a moment of guilt with leaving work a bit early to go to the gym (which fills my cup — what fills yours?) by saying, “Whenever I feel like that, I remind myself that this prolongs my life. Work shortens it.” And damn, right?
Make the moments in your life about YOU and how YOU want to fill that time. When it comes to your job, remember that you can ALWAYS choose for yourself. Jobs will always try to tell you that you can’t choose. You CAN and believe me, it always feels so good to choose yourself.






