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The Circle of Life

By April 22, 2013Acceptance

The couch was so very, very comfortable. The ache was massive. The smoothie was delicious and solving a lot of what was ailing me. I just needed one more hour, but there wasn’t anymore time. I had pushed it to the absolute.

I bid the neighbors adieu and sluggishly made my way down the six flights into the brisk sun. I was going off the grid, and in this state, the Yellow Devil was my only option, even though I am quite sure a train would have plopped me right in front of my destination.

Sunglasses shielding me from the UV and judgment, the cracked window letting in a refreshing blast of medium-warm air. Looking down the West Side Highway, watching all the traffic of people enjoying their day. Spring was coming. The blossoms had begun to show, and this is that time in New York City when everything is just… well, perfect.

A little sadness began to creep in from nowhere. I couldn’t explain it at first, but as each bike rushed past in the opposite direction, I realized that little triggers were being pulled, firing tiny bullets at my heart as I thought that this would be the time David and I would be dusting off the bikes and taking our Saturday rides around the island.

I posted a little update to Facebook, wondering if somebody is feeling the same way. Instantly a couple likes and comments came in. Yep, they haven’t forgotten him, that’s always good.

I arrived at Greenwich and Harrison, paid the tab and hung out on the corner letting the sun warm my face for a second. Physically I felt awful, the sum of my body parts yearning for the couch, but my mind and will focused on the door in front of me.

I pulled the door open, and the narrow little bar was packed with familiar faces from all facets. Each smile, hug, and handshake brought on a different “Remember When” moment. It’s been a few minutes since we all got together like this, especially in my new capacity. It felt as if I never left. In fact, the last time I saw this group in the same place was October at our last event celebrating the passing of one life.

Today we all got together to celebrate the life of one to come. One little PaJanimal whose August arrival was being celebrated (I have no idea what a PaJanmial is—remind me to ask Paul and Janice next time I see them).

A couple things were going on in my head: First thought was that Canadians are interesting people, with their orbs and parties in which they share collectively the news of whether their child will be a girl or a boy. “Only the Cheniers,” I thought.

I’m not a cake person. I’m just not. Can’t explain it. Clearly I like the party, yet I never want to eat, cut, or witness anything cake. I have so many pictures of people cutting cakes… it always struck me as an odd tradition: “Ohhhh look, they are going to cut the cake!” Camera’s out. “Oh, they are going to blow out the candles!” Camera’s out…

But this time was a little different. This time, the cake was going to tell us something. Tell ALL of us something. Every person present in that room, and even some who were furiously racing by cab, were all concerned about this particular cake-cutting. Even the hostess stood upon her seat trying to get a look.

It wasn’t about the first cut or the candles out: The filling in this cake was representative of whether the Cheniers were going to have a baby boy or a baby girl. Blue icing and pink icing, respectively.

Time, as it does for me from time to time, sort of stopped. It was as if I could look at each and every person, as if the movie paused, and I saw a genuine care for the two people on the other side of the knife. The love they shared, the love we share for them, and they for us.

Each face reminded me of a story—or more a feeling—of a part they played in David’s world and that they still play in mine. All of us having met over the moving and shifting of impressions and the influence of the digital world through advertisements. How was it possible that the people in this room represented relationships that many would argue are equal to or even exceed those we have with some of our family. Husbands and wives who met at work, friends and confidants who all started over a meeting.

I thought to myself, “How could I ever think I was going to leave this business for any major length of time?” In this room were people I have cried with, people who have cried with me, people I have laughed with, and for the most part just lived and experienced with. This was just one more example of a group of people who continuously proves that business is, in fact, personal, and the more personal, the better the business.

The perfect little slice made its way away from the cake. Time started moving again, and the whole bar erupted as they held up a pink slice of cake. It was going to be a little girl. It struck me how cool that moment was, that these two people wanted to share, because they honestly didn’t know until the exact same moment what they were having. How very cool. This little circle of life we live in our big little industry where the people care more than they should and are rewarded for it.

It was a great day followed up by a little get-together at dinner with a couple I had been missing for two years. They met at work one day… but that story, my friends, is for another time.