Saturday, August 16, 2014

Of Men and Money

Photo credit: Deanna Dent

These past two weeks I’ve been working a lot. It’s orientation for the program I work with and these weeks are some of the most intense of our program year.

But in the midst of the chaos and working and lack of sleep (and working) and stress (and working) and moving 10 individuals from 10 different countries to Phoenix, my friend and colleague Deanna took this amazing photo and I just can’t get it out of my head.

I thought about sharing the photo on Facebook with a short sentence, but then realized I had more I wanted to say. More I wanted to remember. More I wanted to reflect on.

My whole life I’ve spent time in banks…in South Dakota, Montana and Colorado. My dad was a banker through my growing-up years, and he worked hard—trying to make it home to have dinner with the family, and then returning to the office later in the evening. He often worked Saturdays too, but many times he’d take my brothers and I along (to provide Mom some sanity time, I'm guessing). I’m not sure how much “help” we actually were, but we became expert users of the shredding machine and there was something both fun and spooky about being in the bank when it was closed. We could wander through the quietness and behind the teller line (sneaking Dum Dums when we could find them!).

It was fun to go to work with Dad—I think my love for the “office environment” was born in those early days at the bank, as was my love for numbers, budgets, etc.

In middle school and high school, the bank Dad managed in Colorado had “popcorn” Fridays and I’d manage the popcorn machine after school, handing out bags of popcorn to customers waiting in line. Dad’s bank life provided some fun family adventures as well—one year we dressed up as Dalmatian dogs (white sweatshirt and sweatpants with black felt spots) and rode a bank float in the city’s annual holiday parade. Another year my brother Jon had the opportunity to throw out the opening pitch at a Colorado Rockies baseball game--at the time the bank was a major sponsor of the team.

But, it wasn’t all fun and games. I both saw and experienced the stress my dad was under as a bank manager and never-ever-ever desired that for myself.

However, I’m realizing that these days, things aren’t much different. Work-life balance flies out the window and it’s times like this that I’m glad I don’t have a family at home--because they’d never see me, and if they did see me, I’d most likely be “Crazy-Cranky-Kristi.” But ironically, it’s also these same days that I miss having someone to come home too—that person who could take one look at my face and know that the thing I most needed at that moment was a hug and a whisper in my ear saying, “You’re amazing. You’re going to make it. Tomorrow is a new day. I love you.”

Instead I control the chaos by making fun plans with friends and family—plans that force me to leave the office at a reasonable time, plans that allow me to eat, drink and be merry. Plans that have me organizing trips and vacations for later in the year. Plans that make me turn off “work-brain” and turn on “life-fun.” And I relax and am refreshed and feel ready to face another day.

And then I think of this photo.

In a bank once again.

And I am grateful.

In addition to all my “bank” memories, it brings to mind a mental picture from my childhood with my dad arriving home from a long day at the office…he’d walk in the house, find my mom (who was most likely in the kitchen making dinner), and give her a kiss. And I imagine that in that moment they were saying “You’re amazing. You’re going to make it. Your family loves you. I’m glad you’re home. Tomorrow is a new day.”

Thank you Deanna for capturing this moment.

Thank you Mom and Dad for the legacy of hard work and love that you model for me.


And thank you to all the people I work with who help me grow, both as a professional, and as a person. 

“No work is insignificant. All labor that uplifts humanity has dignity and importance and should be undertaken with painstaking excellence.” --Martin Luther King Jr.

No comments: