Skip to main content

Hwy 85

It's amazing how something so simple becomes universally complicated when it involves HR.

Example: me wanting to request a leave of absence from work to help my parents out while dad is in his final stages of life. Complication: HR rep telling me this doesn't qualify for FMLA and insinuating I may not have a job if I continue to take time off.

Not only did HR person not answer my questions, she then told me I should call our mental health hotline.  Uhm, excuse me?  First off, your degree is in PHOTOgraphy, not PSYCHOlogy.  Second, read FMLA.  I've read it several times and assisting in the care of an ailing parent is listed.  No, you don't get to count my mother as she is in her mid seventies, but thanks for asking.

I then called my touch stone, Lester Lou, and cried yet again on her shoulders.  Decided that I should let my direct supervisor know.  Made that call only to receive yet another dig about it being start week, but they're handling it.  There was a part of me that just wanted to say, " sorry, next time one of my parents decides it's almost time to die I'll ask them to wait for a convenient time for work".  Unfreakinbelievable.

As I was making the journey back to Longmont, I decided to take HWY 85.  Not a major highway but a comfortable two laner with a top speed of 65. Something I could handle. I never have to drive in the fast lane. It was so peaceful and calm that I wanted to keep driving.  Would it take me to a place where there was no corporate bullshit? no recriminations?

So, here I'm sat, letting mom get out of the house to run some errands and breathe some fresh air.
Waiting.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Monday, Monday

This was Valentine's weekend and we really did have a lovely Day. We had some time a lone and spent a lovely dinner at our favorite place: Panzano's. The food was delicious, the wine wonderful, and the people watching spectacular. Warren really seemed to love the watch I gave him and I think was really touched that I 'took him' out for dinner. He gave me a gorgeous necklace and we broached the subject of 'forever' without actually saying anything. I love how we dance around that subject without coming to a conclusion, however, I think it's just a matter of time. Missy continues to make strides (and not jsut walking my ass off). She has gotten into this thing about not coming out of the bedroom for other people. However, this morning as I was trying to get her ready for her walk she just jumped off of the sofa. Twice. I think in her excitement to go she forgot about the devil incarnate (better known as Lucy, the cat). We have taken to keeping Lucy in ...

6 Months of Doctor's

Ok, so sounds like Hayley now has either bronchitis or pnuemonia.............along with her Mono. Dad is taking her to the doctor this afternoon so we should know something by dinner time. So, after the gall bladder/appendix in September, the portal vein thrombosis in October, the shots, the doctor visits, back to the hospital in December, thought we were getting better in January, got the Mono in February, and now maybe Bronchitis in March.........holy smokes. Wonder if she's even going to make it through 8th grade? Wonder.

Both Sides Now

      I haven't written about dad's actual death yet, it still hurts too much and I fear the tears would never stop.      Over the last few months mom has gone on a spree, giving away and donating things they've collected over the 50 plus years of marriage.  I don't think she realized just how much 'stuff' they had.        Dad was a picture taker.  It seems like he was always getting his camera out.  Growing up it seems that he was always taking the same group picture, the same photo of a family dinner, the same photo of holidays.  The same faces, the same Christmas tree, the same Thanksgiving table.  What I didn't realize until after he was gone and mom started going through boxes upon boxes of these pictures was that he was documenting the history of our family.  Our lives.        My throat gets tight and my eyes well with tears thinking about how our...