This is not a happy post. If you're in a good mood you don't want ruined, I recommend not reading further. Also, I'm going to use some bad words here.
I'm in this hospital room in northern VA at 0-dark-30, watching my boss die. He's a retired Navy guy, started his second career as a civil servant, still with the Navy he's loved for apparently his whole adult life. 15 months ago, he got diagnosed with the lung disease that eventually brings us to where we are tonight.
I've served with him for 2 years and 2 months. I'm his deputy, which means when they take him off the ventilator in 5 hours and he passes on, I'm getting a promotion I don't fucking want, for the last few months of my tour here. I have to keep the team together, keep the mission going, eventually train my relief, and ideally, train a new boss, if and when that individual shows up.
I'm angry.
For the last 15 months, this guy has worked non-stop. He's answered emails at 10 pm on Saturday nights. He's beaten me to work almost every day (which is pretty goddamn early), and except for a bunch of doctor appts, he typically stayed pretty late most days, too.
I'm pretty sure they told him he was terminal at the outset. You'd think someone in that position would shuffle some priorities. Maybe, you know, start planning to train his team on some of the stuff that only he does. Maybe pass on files or processes, or lighten his own load to allow himself to focus on some other things. Maybe do something other than, oh, I don't know, work.
Did I mention he has a family? Wife (also retired Naval officer), 13 y/o daughter. 7 acres of land, with horses, lots to do and keep busy with. But this guy would rather work.
And there is the crux of my anger, and my word of caution. We all have responsibilities, duties, work we feel obligated to do. But, I'm guessing most of us probably Sling less than we would like to, maybe don't get to see people we probably ought to, and maybe spend less time at home than our family deserves.
If that last one is you, knock it off. Just fucking stop. Put down the work, go home, and hug someone.
I don't know what this guy was like at home. Probably a loving, devoted father and husband. I hope. I hope he was easier to deal with at home than he was at work. But I for damn sure know he wasn't there enough. I hope his daughter has enough good memories with him to last the rest of her life, because she's done making them. And that's a goddamn crying shame, because this train's been visible on the track a long fucking time.
So, I'm angry. (Lots of reasons, some of them personal and selfish, so don't go thinking this is all noble and shit.) But the message I would leave you with is, if you aren't balanced in your life, seek that balance. Don't wait until you are in your terminal hospital bed to slow down. Spend that time where you value it the most, where it will do the most good. Someday, the wheels stop turning, and all the second chances are gone. Don't leave a stack of missed opportunities on the table for people to regret behind you.
I can't do anything about this situation but sit here and listen to the machines and wait for the dawn, when his family will arrive and the machines will go silent, and this goddamn awful watch will end. But I can do something in my own life. And you can do something in yours. Don't waste any more time - you truly never get it back.