Letters
Letter: Stormy Weather
Letter to a Reader
Letter to my Dead Ex-Husband
Letter to two of my Male Bosses
Letter to two of my Femal Bosses
Stormy Weather
Stormy weather
You loved nursery school. You have always been very sociable and had a large circle of friends. Fortunately, and something I’ve been proud of, you have always been selective with the company you have kept, except for that period between 13 and 17 when you were obviously taken over by an alien, and only your true friends have survived.
Nursey was no exception, you were friendly and polite, funny and kind, intelligent and outrageous. At the grand old age of 2 years and 11 months I had a note home telling me you were to be a frog in an up-and-coming nativity play. I remember not even questioning the fact that frogs were going to be part of the nativity play, after all why wouldn’t there be frogs in the stable. It wasn’t a speaking part but you were really excited about being a frog. Grandma and I made a frog outfit from felt and black marker pen. I was very proud of my effort and though I say it myself you were the best frog I had and have ever seen. You were a true thespian. You were on stage with your class mates, one of three frogs and at the end of the show you took your bow along with everyone else and you marched off in single file. Thirty seconds later you returned to the stage and took another bow, there was a collective aaaahhhh and everyone fell in love with you.
It was 1987, the year Michael Fish become famous. He had always been a z list celebrity; he would have been recognised in his local community and by followers of the BBC weather forecast but probably wasn’t famous enough to have got a reserved table at a Michelin star restaurant or an upgrade on a BA flight. But after the 15th of October his name was known by every adult in the UK. The day was warm but windy, a typical autumnal day. There were still leaves on the trees and the weather had been fairly clement. There was nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to point to the destruction about to happen overnight.
The six o’clock news came and went followed by the BBC Weather forecast. Michael Fish in his imitable style mentioned that a viewer had called in to say that a Hurricane was on the way and he <Michael> could absolutely state categorically that there would not be a hurricane that evening. It was likely to be a little windy, but certainly not a hurricane. This statement became synonymous with hurricanes. Of course, the general public had no idea what a hurricane felt like so when the winds started to get fierce the general feeling was it must be a hurricane. In weather terminology it was in fact a violent extratropical cyclone but it had all the characteristics of a Hurricane including its sheer size which allowed it to inflict damage over a vast area, it is now referred to as the great storm.
I settled you down in the caravan and put Baggins on guard outside but he was very restless, he would not settle. You didn’t settle either, so with the dog pacing and you throwing things out of your cot, the mood was very unsettled. I’d go in and pick up your toys and gave them back to you and you’d wait until I was out of the caravan and send them flying again. It felt like something was wrong. Hindsight is a brilliant thing but even at the time I remember feeling spooked. Grandma had a couple of spare rooms and we decided to move into the house for the night. I collected you and the dog and moved us into the spare rooms.
We all settled down for the night, even though the winds were high and noisy, it felt safe; we didn’t sleep for long though. Grandma and I were woken by a high screech, echoing through the house. The winds were howling and the loud crash confirmed that a branch had been ripped from the truck of a tree in the back garden. It had been overhanging and it was just by chance that the tree, which had stood unmolested for at least 80 years, should be in the way of the cyclone. I remember checking on both you and the dog and you were fast asleep, considering how deafening the noise was this was a miracle.
Grandma and I left the house to investigate the damage. It was so eerily still by the time we were in the garden we could hear each other breathing. I’d never been in the eye of a storm but that’s how it felt, like we were surrounded by winds and noise, that the storm made a wall around us as we stood in our nightwear on an unseasonal warm October night not speaking but aware of great destruction around us. We moved the branch away from the house and checked all the other tress. I don’t know why we decided t, but we did decide to undo the power connections and leads to the caravan. We returned to the kitchen to a cup of tea and biscuit. We had only been in a few moments when the wind started up again, pounding the windows and moving debris around against the windows and doors. The phone was dead, before mobile phones, the TV was dead, before PC’s. We were cut off from the news, our neighbours, our friends and family. We complain about the intrusion of communication into our lives now and yes, we managed without an excess of communication but I always contemplate the ‘what if’ question. What if a tree had fallen through the roof and knocked me unconscious, what would have happened to you, what if grandma had fallen over and broken her hip, how would we have contacted an ambulance. Fortunately, these ‘What ifs’ didn’t happen but throughout your growing up I always resorted to what if. Ridiculous I know but then what if I hadn’t?
Anyway, Grandma and I survived the night as did you and Baggins but the next morning showed what hadn’t survived. Trees were down over the road, cars had been squashed by fallen trees, roofs had slid from the tops of houses and the caravan was upside down in the garden with your toys and my underwear strewn across the lawn! We did what we always did in a crisis, sat down and have a cup of tea. That reminds me of when I was nursing, I had just dealt with my first death on the ward and the doctor who was with me was in a state of shock as I was. I asked him if he would like a cup of tea and he very dismissingly remarked that it was so common that tea was offered in a crisis. My whole life that comment remained my badge of honour, I was officially common. We sat with our tea and decided what needed to be done. First, one of us should check on the neighbours, Secondly, we should make sure there was nothing outside the house that could cause any danger, third we would get you up, dress you, let the dog out and spend the day amusing ourselves. And that’s what we did. The neighbours were fine, there was no danger and Grandma, you, Baggins and I had such a brilliant day, playing games, reading to you, walking the dog in the grounds, napping, snacking. There was no electricity until late into the evening but we managed. I loved Grandma’s company and it goes without saying I loved spending time with you.
Grandma hated the idea of being on her own which is probably why she married four times. You and I had a similar start in life. We both come from broken homes, bought up by single parents. Sadly, though Grandma felt the need to apologise for the life she provided me. She was very catholic and believed in a fairy tale. She believed that love was forever, that there really was only one person in your life for you, that sex was only to be sought within marriage and family was the most important thing in the world. There was only one of her beliefs that she and I agreed on, family being important. Grandma was an independent woman before her time. She could never have been a single woman, before each relationship ended there was someone, some hero, in the wings waiting to lift her up and carry her away into the sunset. Unfortunately, before the sun actually set, she discovered that her men snored, farted, weren’t there for her when times got tough, that they hated confrontation and were human. It really was heart breaking. She really only ever loved one man and that was my father. I’m sorry I can’t say the same to you.
What Grandma was good at was loving the children from the previous relationships the men in her life had. She treated all children, no matter their ages, the same. They fed her desire to have a large family and even when she fell out with their father, as she inevitably did, they continued to love her as she did them. She loved all her grandchildren but spent most of her grandparent energy on you. You spent so much time with her, she loved you fiercely and would have done anything for you. She and her fourth husband took you to museums and parks, to the pictures or picnics, on boats and trains, you experienced a great part of your growing up with Grandma. Her love for you was unconditional.
Life is definitely in moments and this was one of those moments.
Music that reminds me of how I felt during that time, not necessarily music of the day:
But the forecast wasn't quite the way it seemed to be
And the cloudy sky is all that I can see
There's a storm of a love Rodney Crowell
Quote reflecting the situation: Don't be afraid to get back up, to try again, to love again, to live again, and to dream again. Anonymous
Philosophy I learnt: Life is measured in a moment not hours or days.
Letter to a Reader
Dear Reader
Communication? Communication! Communication. Why are you reading this? Because you’ve been told to? Curiosity! Interest! Or maybe you’re in a waiting room waiting for something unpleasant to happen and need a distraction. Maybe you believe there is nothing new to be said about communication, after all it’s about talking to people “we do that every day, surely?” And maybe it’s all been said before. Maybe it has, but just maybe you will recognize something that you hadn’t seen or, more importantly, you haven’t heard before, because as the recipient of any communication you are ultimately responsible for how a message is understood.
No! That can’t be true. The recipient is the one responsible for understanding what is being communicated? We often hear words that we either understand or we think we understand, understanding is the key there. To really appreciate good communication you, as the recipient, need to understand what’s being said, the tone it’s being spoken in, the circumstances it is being said under and listened to. You need to appreciate the medium its been chosen to be delivered by and by whom. If you don’t understand any of these it’s your responsibility to ask for clarity.
The dictionary’s definition of communication is:
Noun. the imparting or exchanging of information by speaking, writing, or using some other medium.,
It would be a reasonable assumption that this definition explains it all but the definition continues by providing synonyms like:
Transmission, imparting, conveying, reporting, passing on, handing on, relay, conveyance, divulgence, divulgation, disclosure, spreading, dissemination, promulgation, broadcasting, circulation, circulating, message, statement, announcement, report, dispatch, communique, letter, bulletin, correspondence, news, word, information, intelligence, instruction, tidings, dealings, relations, connection, association, communion, socializing, interaction, intercourse, social intercourse, interface, interchange, links, connections, services.
When we see these words do we immediately consider communication as the activity? Conveyance – isn’t that something to do with transportation? Circulation – isn’t that a word meaning movement, as with blood? Socializing isn’t that an activity to mix or mingle with others. Yes to all the above – but to be able to do all or any of these things we need to be able to exchange information, sometimes by speaking and sometimes by other, more appropriate methods. For example Conveyance might also mean the sharing of information about the structure or position of a building – communication via charts and commentary. Circulation might mean the communication of a classical piece of music through ballet and socializing might mean the need to entertain by means of talking, singing or joke telling, all forms of communication. All these different forms of communication are dependent, in order to be understood, on the context.
When a message is taken out of context the communication gets muddled and misunderstood. We all, at times, want to hear what we want to hear. We sometimes try to understand the message before we’ve heard the statement or the answer before we hear the question.
An example from a domestic situation I heard. The partner asking the original question had already decided the answer was no, so that was all that was heard.
Partner 1: will you have the dog tomorrow?
Partner 2: when I have the dog he sulks. I should take a picture of him and send it to you to show you what he looks like when he sulks.
Partner 1: will you take the dog on Saturday – I’d like one day without him, if that’s ok?
Partner 2: I’m meant to be seeing a friend on Saturday.
What has actually been said or understood from this conversation? Was anything really communicated? Who was the recipient of what part of this exchange? Obviously, it’s both of them, both are the giver and the receiver of information but neither clarified. There was never a yes or no answer. This is how arguments happen one person hears something the other person didn’t say. In business this can be critical, fatal even.
A more dangerous form of communication is, being misinterpreted. A customer gets a phone call from their phone supplier every year, the call happens about a month before their present contract expires.
Caller: “Hello, this is your phone supplier. Your contract is coming up for renewal.”
Customer: “yes it is. I’ve been meaning to contact you.”
Caller: “no problem. If you just give me your password I’ll make that change for you immediately.”
An hour after this call took place the customer was notified of an extraordinary purchase and that £2000 was being taken from their account. Only then did they realize that they had heard what they wanted to hear with terrible consequences. They had been scammed.
Communication can also be misunderstood when written. Have you ever tried to put some flatpack furniture together just by attempting to read the instructions provided? How important is it to confirm that all the pieces that are needed have been packaged? Check that a screw hasn’t got stuck in the polystyrene or corrugated cardboard casing or that the instructions haven’t been ripped in half when you struggle to open the wrapping and even then it’s all about interpreting the diagrams into a meaningful, useable piece of furniture.
All these examples are about the need to understand what is trying to be said and the context in which it is being said.
As the recipient of a communication, we also need to understand whether we are listening or reading, seeing or feeling information or knowledge. Is the difference too subtle? In business it is important to recognize the difference between Information and knowledge. It is important to confirm that you are in receipt of factual material. To establish true data and for avoiding ‘fake news’. Don’t listen to gossip or hearsay, don’t listen to the ‘friend of a friend’. Listen to known sources and proven evidence. The difference between Information and Knowledge: information is complete, relevant, and available; Knowledge conveys the true situation and is more likely to be accurate.
Examples of data, information and knowledge: [1]
Data:
- 4,8,12,16
- Dog, cat, cow, cockatoo
- 161.2, 175.3, 166.4, 164.7, 169.3
Information:
Context or meaning when data becomes information.
- 4, 8, 12 and 16 are the first four answers in the 4 x table
- Dog, cat, cow is a list of household pets
- 165, 175.2, 186.3, 164.3, 169.3 are the height of 14-year old students.
Knowledge:
Application of information to gain further knowledge:
- 4, 8, 16 and 24 are the first four answers in the 4 x table (because the 4 x table starts at four and goes up in fours, the 5 x table must start at five and go up in fives)
- A tiger is not a household pet as it is not on the list, and it lives in the wild forest.
- The tallest student is 186.3cm.
A further, more real example: In England there is a very busy circular road that goes around the outside of London, known as the M25. If I need to plan a journey that includes travelling on the M25 I will collect information from reliable sources; the internet, the radio, route planners. Knowledge on the other hard would be from sitting in a stationery car on the motorway being aware of the traffic situation.
In 2020, the year of the Covid pandemic, the world had to reconsider how it communicated and technology became a strong medium. Business meetings were done virtually, lessons performed using zoom or Team’s, personal relationships were conducted via facetime. People, made money, lost money, made up and broke up and didn’t have to meet face to face for any of it. We learnt to communicate virtually.
What an experience virtual meetings turned out to be!
Virtual meetings mean you watch yourself perform! I was invited to an interview and the whole time I could see how I was performing and at one point I became so distracted I lost my train of thought. I can remember thinking, if I was interviewing me I wouldn’t offer me the job. I wasn’t offered the job, so we agreed on one thing.
A lot of communication is done with the participants being in similar environments with similar circumstances. If I called you on a work matter or had an interview before Covid_19, we would both be familiar with each other’s distractions and limitations. We would be sharing the same environment and circumstances. These restrictions may be the same during ‘lockdowns’ but suddenly we were meeting with people whilst they sat at their kitchen tables or a desk in their bedrooms. There we were having people, who were colleagues and not necessarily friends, seeing us in our home’s.
Communication, something we continue to learn about every day. I hope, as the recipient, you will continue to read with an open mind taking what you can and applying what you need. We can all become observers of how we and others communicate.
As Agatha Christie, the extraordinary communicator, once wrote “You cannot give to people what they are incapable of receiving.”
[1] https://www.guru99.com/information-vs-knowledge-difference
Letter to my Dead Ex-Husband
Dear Dead Ex-Husband
Today is the anniversary of your death. It’s been twelve years. I’m afraid this letter will not be flowing with love and heartfelt remorse. No, dead husband it is filled with anger, indignation and displeasure.
How dare you leave your son with feelings of guilt and regret? How dare you. What on earth were you thinking that your death would bring some kind of release and comfort? That your son would congratulate himself on being a young independent man pleased that he didn’t have the opportunity to say good bye.
And to die in such an undignified, inelegant manner, surely that hadn’t been your intention. NO, you would have thought that you had died dramatically. You would have scripted the hours leading up to your death and would have thought that everyone, including your son, would have thought it tragic and so unnecessary. I don’t deny your pain. I’m sure it pierced you deeply. I’m sure you believed that you would be unable to live through such grievous and excruciating heartbreak. That your life was over anyway, why continue breathing. I feel certain that your torment vehemently took over your mind, heart and your soul. That it was all-consuming. I am also certain that no thought was allowed in your fevered mind about anyone or anything else.
I’m told by those that know about these things that mental illness should be treated with compassion and understanding. That although the person suffering only thinks of themselves and their pain, I should accept that it doesn’t make them selfish. I’m informed that suicide is a choice, isn’t that worse, that you choose to leave your son. Choice also implies a sentient, thoughtful, considered individual; surely a person able to function in this fashion would not choose to take his own life.
No, suicide to me demonstrates someone who is so blind with self loathing, so marked by pain and depression that they are consumed by it. They see themselves as the centre of the universe instead of just a small part of it. They see themselves alone in a world, oblivious to the movement around them, instead of realising that they are an integral part of the universe. When they decide to end their lives they remove the endless possibilities that would have taken place if they were still in it. They also believe suicide removes the pain they are feeling, that they will no longer hurt, but dear dead ex-husband IT DOESN’T! It just transfers your pain to those closest to you and like you they have no control over how it consumes them. It is your passing gift.
Humankind is very good at retrospection or analysing how differently their lives would have been if they had taken a different route but they don’t visit those possibilities before they happen. But those left see the different paths very clearly. Each time a life event happens in my son’s life: a new job, a new relationship, his marriage, children and loss, travel and hardship, each time he has to make a life changing decision your input will not be there. You have denied him the opportunity to disagree with you, to argue his case with you, to agree with you, to even ignore you if he wishes. You have denied him your presence. .
I’d feel more sympathetic if I believed this was something that ‘just happened’ or was a direct result of the pain you were feeling, or as a result of your loss but you’d held fantasies about dying all your life. You even reference these thoughts in your suicide note. Suicide note, ha, more like a suicide book, a book stating clearly how it was everyone’s fault except yours. But I digress, apparently you considered death and what it would be like in your teens, if this is true and I have no reason to believe it isn’t, why did you make the life choices you did? Were you hoping you’d be cured? That you’d wake up and everything would be all right? Why didn’t you get help? You must have realised that these thoughts weren’t normal because you didn’t speak to anyone about them. Or were the references to you dying an excuse for this final act. We will never know.
The two things our son said at your funeral, which struck me like a knife to the heart, were: “Mum when you and Dad divorced he was leaving you but his suicide means he has chosen to leave me”, the difference is so poignant and so painful. I wished I could take the pain from him and secondly: “I miss Grandma, I wish she was here”. My god, so did I. Grief sometimes has a domino effect. You are so caught up in the practicalities of the moment that the mind cannot adjust to the pain of that someone leaving you. The heart aches for a previous loss, someone you never really got the opportunity to grieve for and somehow your pain for them takes over the loss of the present. Our son’s grandmother, my mother, had died 3 years previously and our son was so close to her. He spent so much time with her she was the perfect surrogate mother. He confided in her, relied on her support and loved her. At times I was jealous of their bond, but it was only natural that at a time of great difficulty in his life he called to her.
She would have been able to have understood his pain and would have kept her own anger inside. You were after all his father. However, she would have thought you weak, as she did when you walked out on me weeks after I gave birth. You always ran away from your responsibilities and your suicide is no exception. She loved her grandson mostly because he had her strength of character and not yours. He looks like you but that is where the similarity ends. You knew it, I knew it and his grandmother knew it. Don’t get me wrong he inherited your good looks, your love of music, his breadth of reading, the arts and the theatre but not your work ethic, your pessimism, your snobbery or centre of the universe mentality. He is kind, considerate, generous and works hard for what is his, if you’d stayed around you would have seen this and might even have learnt something from him.
And so my dear, dead ex-husband I wish you relief. I feel sorry for what you have and will miss out on – your loss not mine, but most of all I want to say goodbye and thank you for the good things you did that I never acknowledged, especially a son we can be proud of.
Letters to my Boss
How often do we acknowledge those that have had an impact or influence on our lives, especially our professional live?
I have had a number of Bosses, some good, some not so good and some extraordinary. Those bosses have been a mixture of genders; women who felt threatened by me, men who felt threatened by me and me them, women who didn’t like me, men who didn’t like themselves, women that were bolshie, men that were weak, men who flirted with me, women that flirted with me, and the list goes on.
I’ve never seen the purpose of asking for feedback if I wasn’t offered the job and this has been born out since I’ve been on the other side. All employers provide a legitimate stock response; large number of applicants all of whom matched the criteria and beyond. But thank you for your interest in our company.
I’ve always asked for feedback if I’ve been offered the job, what I did well, what did I say or do that clinched your decision. Most have been flattering; some have identified things I do naturally, that I probably couldn’t change if I wanted to; some note a particular experience of skill; all mention they liked my style. Style is a little like the X factor, everyone wants it, no-one can really define it, it’s elusive even to the bearer. It’s not forced or scripted, if it was all could apply it.
A letter to amasing leaders
Dear Male Boss
I see from your LinkIn profile that you have had a well-deserved and successful career which made me realize how one shouldn’t blink! Was it really 1994 or 2002 when we first met? You may be wondering why this letter and why now? Although we were friendly we were never friends but I felt compelled to write to tell you how great you were as a boss.
I have had a number of bosses in my career, some good, some not so good and only two that were extraordinary. You are one of the two and remain memorable for all the right reasons.
Neither of you had the same personalities and were from vaguely different backgrounds but you had similarities and it’s the similarities that made you special and natural leaders: you both had young families when we met; you were both from an IT (predominantly male) background; you would be considered mens’ men; enjoying mens company and male pursuits like rugby and the pub – sorry to be so stereotypical! And yet you both gave a strong, independent woman a chance. In both instances I was the first female employed in your departments who wasn’t a secretary and you saw something in me that allowed you to influence the direction of my career.
So what made you good leaders?
You employed me – a good start!
Both interviews were focused and the questions quite grueling, but I was prepared and coped.
But once in place what made me respect and admire your management style?
You were……
Brave: You were brave or was it bravado? Who cares, to me you appeared to go against the norm. I was employed at a time when the employment boundaries were blurred. There were very few women in senior positions and the norm was for men to keep it that way. And yet you took a chance and employed me.
You had …..
Belief: You employed me to do a job and then left me to it. You trusted me. It is so empowering for an employee to be left to their own devices. To feel they can ask for help or support if required but trusted to do what was expected.
You ….
Communicated: Over the years I have discovered how important this is. Of course you would have been party to confidential corporate information but to me and to your teams you trusted us with as much information we needed to do the jobs we were employed to do and to fulfill our remit without surprises. Of course information is power but communication was and remains a two way street – your team provided you with all the information you needed to do your job and in turn you allowed us all to share the glory
You…
Encouraged: Something I have mimicked throughout my career but learnt from you both. Give praise when it is deserved, easy you would think but actually it requires so many skills; it requires a manger to be observant, to know when an employee or colleague has gone above and beyond their remit. It requires the absence of ego, I’ve had so many managers who have taken the credit for work done by a junior member of the team, who have acknowledged their part in a choice of direction but didn’t really understand the aim being taken! Which of course requires the manager to know and understand the focus of the team and to share and encourage the team to follow their lead.
You were….
Inspiring: A manager who is supportive provides constructive criticism which is never in public and never gender based. It is known throughout the team that everyone will receive the same contact and interest. The manager accepts mistakes and helps an employee or colleague learn from these mistakes. They may also support an employee to find their true calling and help them identify where a job may not be the best for them. All done with kindness.
You allowed me to fly, probably too soon in both cases. It wasn’t something I realized until after the event, as I already knew I had a good boss, but I was flattered by the opportunities you helped provide for me. In retrospect I wonder what I, we, could have achieved if you had remained my mentor, my guru, my boss for a while longer?
Thank you for being such a generous part of my life’s journey. Your influence has had an impact on how I have managed others over the years. It has been a pleasure knowing you, be it for such a short period of time, and a privilege knowing how you have inspired my CV.
Thank you
Dear Female Boss
Out of all the bosses I have had there are four who stand out as inspirational, as good leaders, clever managers, mentors and teachers. Four who have the X factor? Two men and two women, bizarrely I remember the men’s names but not the women’s, probably because the women were earlier in my career.
The first was a Sister of a medical ward and I was a student nurse under her direction. I wish I could remember her name. I wish we had been friends but the only thing I recall from that time, over 40 years ago, was that she had a boyfriend who was a policeman. She was the first manager who introduced me to what empathy looks like. She understood the difficulties I had on a ward that hadn’t really been my desire. She taught me to do my best, to give 100% and support my colleagues without being asked. She taught me to embrace other people’s passion and enthusiasm for a job. In the 3 months I had been allocated to her ward she taught me that I didn’t always need to be number one. That it was as an important a role to be number two and support colleagues who were in their dream jobs, people that were on a ward they had dreamed of since starting nursing. She encouraged me to show them in a good light, to support their decisions and allow them to shine in front of our peers. Of course I learnt for myself that this was just as rewarding and in the long term noticed in a good light by my manager. I got excellent feedback and glowing references. I thank her; I hope she found happiness and success.
The second was in Education. My boss at the time identified something in me I hadn’t seen in myself, something that I was not aware of. She recognised my ability to manage, to mentor, to encourage, in summary to teach. I found I could command attention and deliver a presentation. I could introduce humour to some rather dull topics. I also discovered how organised I could be. I learnt that I was able to encourage others to learn. If I didn’t know the detail of something I could support students to find ways of discovering it for themselves. They learnt, I learnt, what an amasing relationship. I remember my interview, as I do with all my extraordinary bosses. This incredibly strong woman saw my lack of confidence, this hadn’t been an area I had considered, but she genuinely believed in my ability and gave me encouragement to give it a go. I was a single parent but this wasn’t considered a disadvantage to her, she saw this as my strength. She recognised my ambition and hunger and witnessed me trying to be a good example to my son. How opportune this experience was. Sadly, although teaching taught me so much, teaching also bought stress beyond anything I’d known before. That in its self provided an excellent learning experience. I was able to recognise the signs and address them fairly quickly. I understood my limitations. As a single parent, actually as any parent, we have the ability to juggle a lot of tasks as long as there are no difficulties with any given task. Stress happens when a number of tasks go wrong at once, work, children, partnerships, money, health, housing, all can be dealt with individually but when two or three start to collapse at once, the plates start to drop. Teaching allowed the perfect storm to arrive. Without knowing the full story this woman supported and encouraged my strengths. Actually the whole department did but the team was being led by a strong, remarkable, inspirational, woman. Thank you, I hope you found success and happiness.
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