The Year in Review
It has been a very busy year. All of the events that lead to the past three hundred and sixty-five days kicked off three hundred sixty-six and three hundred sixty-seven days ago.
367 Days ago, my father went to the doctor, they exchanged pleasantries, and I assume there was some other small talk, then to doctor told him he was dying.
366 Days ago, it just so happened that I was on a regular visit home. I was excited to tell my family that Sara and I were house sitting in Greensboro until our little house in the woods could be built. I brought pictures and everything. Dad mentioned going to the doctor and the fact that he had some related news to share with me. He shared it and I listened as stoic as a Cavenaugh. We Cavenaugh's pride ourselves on never showing our pain, its fine to laugh, but that's the start and finish of a very short list of emotions we are encouraged to show in public.
365 Days ago sitting in his recliner he made the transition from solid to aether. My job as a child is to lend support to my parents. As an only child this means that the job is a 24/7 enterprise. Having no downtime, I made the call to Sara who was in Texas for an IWFL Delegate conference. We learned that according to the flight insurance you probably bought with your last ticket "dying is a pre-existing condition". So's living corporate bastards. When the revolution comes I'll be the one who puts your back to the wall. But that is the subject of another sweet sweet blog entry to come.
The delegates of the iwfl came together and got Sara on a flight home in quick fashion. She arrived at a good time, I was still as stoic as would make my ancestors proud, but I'd need help to maintain it, and I'd come to a decision as well. I asked for a child, and she agreed to it.
January first started a reassignment for me at work, I would be administrating a Google Apps for Education suite. It was the coolest job ever. And that's coming from a guy who helped build a PMO from the ground up.
Thirty eight weeks after the death of my dad we were able to move into our new house.
Forty two weeks after the death of my dad Fiona was born.
A few weeks ago my 88 year old grandmother falls breaking her hip. My mother and her siblings pull together and have been giving their mother round the clock care ever since.
A week or two ago I learned that someone else would be taking over as the Google Apps for Education administrator. They swore that it had nothing to do with my performance. They said I was excellent at it. My new duties in my new group will be packaging Mac images to work with our shiny new Active Directory lifestyle. My clients who have been undeserved for years are about what one imagines when you say Mac Bigot. I was probably chosen for the job because I'm very comfortable as a Mac user and I'm just as mentally ill as my clients are, but I'm twice as violent. <-- This would be a joke. My clients aren't "really" that mentally ill.
Today I learn that my grandmother has picked up pneumonia which isn't doing her diminishing mental acuity any favors. On the Sunday morning phone call with mom, in between me telling her how well the baby travels, and her telling me how poorly grandmother is doing she asked me if I knew what today was.
"Yes mom, I know what today is."
That was all that was said on the matter. The rest of the conversation turned to her hoping she could visit while I was out on paternity leave. Neither of us had to say it, but we both knew that their was only one way that was going to happen.
One year.
One death.
One Life.
One house.
Three assignments.
Seven transitions.
