I wrote this on March 1st, but didn’t feel like posting it until now.

I arrive at work a bit early on Friday to catch up on email communications and other work. I am cranking away until about 9:30 when my cell phone rings. It is the rest home where we moved my 90-year-old mother, Efrosini, in early January. They found her lying on the floor in her room; she seemed to have fallen and hurt her hand and wrist. I call the advice nurse and make a same-day appointment at Kaiser Richmond. She says to get more information and if it looks bad, take her to the emergency room. I talk to the director at the rest home, and he says he will take her to the emergency room, and that I should meet them there as soon as I can. Great. Not much chance of getting a lot done today now.

My boss walks by my office and I tell him what has happened with my mom. He asks, “Are you leaving now?” I reply, “In a few minutes after I finish off some stuff here.”

He says, “Stop by my office before you go so we can meet briefly and catch up.”

After a few minutes I get up and walk toward his office. He waves me in while he gets the controller, closes the door behind me, and they sit across the small table from me. My danger instinct spikes while the blood rushes to my head.

“Well, Neo, I know you have been here a long time and …” swoosh, swoosh, swoosh goes the sound in my head. “It’s nothing personal, we are continuing to reorganize to cut costs, and we have to flatten out the org chart. It is just not a good fit going forward…” swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. “Here’s your vacation time payout.”

No real warning. No severance.

I return to my desk to collect my personal items. I  leave the building.

I think “well, at least I don’t have to hurry back from the emergency room.”