As I reflect back on my three months in New York, one of the highlights was reconnecting with an old friend.
Actually, he’s not old.
He’s 64.
And he isn't really my friend.
He was my dad's friend.
But ever since my father died of a sudden heart attack nearly nine years ago, Joel became my friend.
We started talking on a somewhat regular basis last year as I was knee deep in my journey through unemployment.
And not only did he offer support, but he also offered answers.
Joel had worked in my industry for all of his adult life.
And he had more connections than an Apple computer.
I tried for a year and a half to get my name in front of a company in my hometown.
With no success.
Joel got my resume on the desk of the President of that company after one phone call.
While I didn’t get that job, I did end up getting a job in New York.
Joel’s hometown.
And I was barely there five minutes when I got a call from him.
“Where are you going to live?”
“Do you need me to take you around?”
“When is your family coming back?”
A week later, we spent a couple of hours driving around Long Island, as he took me from town-to-town.
Babylon to Syosset.
And everything in the middle.
When my family came out to visit, we made it a priority to get everyone together.
The first time it was at their house.
Plus a stop at Jones Beach.
The next time we all met in Chinatown.
If anyone was more excited than me about our move to the Big Apple, it had to be Joel.
He loved my dad as much as I did.
And I guess I came as a bonus.
When I got the sudden news of my job ending, Joel was one of the first people I told.
He was heartbroken.
For me.
For him.
For all of us.
But even before the ink was dry on my departure, Joel had come up with a handful of ways to move forward in my career.
And my life.
Unfortunately, that was a lot easier for him than for me.
This broken down roller-coaster ride has really hit me hard.
Much harder than I’ve ever let on in the blog.
In case you just joined my life in progress, here’s the shorthand version of the last few months:
I was unemployed.
I took a job in New York.
We sold our house.
A few days later, my wife quit her job.
The next day I was told my job was no longer needed.
That afternoon, my wife got her job back.
We moved into my sister-in-law’s basement.
My mom is currently in the midst of a bipolar episode.
I may be next.
With all that has happened, I have made it my priority to get my feet back on solid ground before doing anything else.
And goal number one is getting my family settled.
Back in the same city where we were settled before any of this happened.
Like Cher, I’m trying to turn back time.
At some point, thinking about relocating again may become a possibility.
At the moment, it’s just a line at the end of my To Do list.
The thought of pursuing another job, in another city, is really not something that I can process at the moment.
So when I got a voice mail from Joel on December 6, I pushed it aside.
It ran 20 seconds and sounded like this:
Hey it’s Joel. I hope all’s well. Give me a call when you get a chance. Have you ever thought about a job with (Company X on the East Coast)? I may have an in for you. Give me a buzz.
That was 12 days ago.
And I still haven’t called back.
I planned to. And I wanted to. I just couldn’t do it.
I just didn’t do it.
It’s too late now.
In the middle of my daughter’s dance recital today, I got a call from an unknown number.
When the show ended I checked my voice mail.
It was from Jill, Joel’s wife.
Actually, Joel’s widow.
Yesterday he was riding the Long Island Railroad into the city when he had a massive heart attack.
Just as my dad did.
And like my dad, Joel was gone.
Just like that.
When my father passed away I never had a chance to say goodbye.
With Joel, I had 12 days.
And beating myself up isn’t going to change anything.
But it’s all I've been able to do for the last few hours.
I did speak with Jill tonight. Briefly.
We promised to speak again in a couple of weeks when things settle down.
That is one call I can’t wait to make.
Say hi to my dad Joel.
I miss you both.
