We lost our dog, Rusty, last week. He was a dear friend for 14 years but it was his time to go. We will miss him dreadfully. As I go through all those familiar stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, sadness and finally acceptance) it occurs to me that I’ve been here before. I have lost both parents, some close friends and two dear pets, both long time members of the family. But I have felt this familiar feeling outside of death.
It occurs to me that we feel the same kind of grief and go through the same stages when we lose a job, particularly a job we have had for a number of years.
We get comfortable. We know the patterns, the people, the expectations with a job in just the same way I knew Rusty’s every look, every bark, and every gesture. I was comfortable. I loved that dog.
I have loved the people I worked with at many of the companies I’ve worked with. When I left those companies I felt alternately angry or sad until finally I achieved acceptance. I grieved for the lost job in almost the same way I am grieving for my lost friend Rusty.
Some people find it harder than others to reach acceptance about losing a job.
Recently I worked with a fellow out of work for six months. We will call him Brad. He had a great experience at his former company. He was with them for 29 years, almost unheard of these days. He knew every product, every person, and every customer. Brad was happy there… until he was no longer there. Now what? Brad is still mad. He desperately misses his friends. He doesn’t know what to do next.
Brad is grieving. Until he puts his grief in its proper place he cannot move on. It makes sense now why he can’t find a job. Grief, like anger, comes out of your pores like garlic. Brad must deal with his grief before he can move on to his next position.
Here is what I suggested. This might sound silly but bear with me. I suggested Brad collect some pictures or mementos from his past position, particularly some with the company name on them. Take them outside and put them in a large metal wastebasket or in his grill and set them on fire!! You heard me! Set them on fire while yelling at the top of your lungs all the reasons why you are mad. When it is all out of your system and the fire dies down, say good-bye softly. Shed a tear if you want. Then safely dispose of the ashes as mulch in your yard so the ashes of your former life can nurture something fresh and new.
It is time for Brad to look at life with new eyes, a new perspective. Then he can attack his job search with gusto!
After Rusty died my husband, Kermit, and I came home and opened a bottle of our best red wine, a bottle we’ve been saving for a super special celebration. We drank a toast to our lost friend, shed a few tears and shared stories of Rusty’s ornery antics. On the weekend we will have a party to celebrate old friends and a new perspective as we move on to take on life with new eyes.