I was informed my job was eliminated on a Monday. My team members and I could re-apply for a newly developed position or accept a severance package on Friday. I chose the severance package. We were told we could go home and decide what direction we wanted to take. I went home. My head was buzzing with a million things I needed to get done. It was overwhelming. While I still had access, I saved emails and documents that I may need for reference. I downloaded a spreadsheet of my account portfolio. I forwarded emails regarding the instructions for the reorganization. I downloaded the employee phone contact list.
I contacted some close friends to let them know I had lost my job. I would have loved to contact my parents, but they passed away years ago. I was 58 years old and had spent 25 years working for this organization. I was angry. I had hoped I could stretch this job out until at least age 65. I was well aware that finding a new job at 58 was going to be more of a challenge than when I was in my 30’s. This was the third time I had been laid off.
I didn’t sleep very well that night or the next three nights. My mind was replaying everything and all the years I had spent at the organization. It was enough. I couldn’t stay there any longer. I had worked at different roles, survived multiple leadership changes, and one re-organization back in 2019. I knew it was time for me to leave. Somehow, I think I knew this was coming for months. It’s interesting how your intuition tries to prepare you for the next step in your life. However, when it actually happens you still feel like you were hit by a truck.
I researched some attorneys to look over my severance package. I set up an appointment to meet with one for the following week. The offer didn’t seem fair for my almost 25 years of service. Yet, I had my mind set on leaving. I don’t think anyone on my team was happy with the severance package. I emailed HR for some clarification on some key points and received an email response back. She said they were not open to any negotiation. I wasn’t surprised.
I wasn’t obligated during these few days to communicate with contacts from my accounts. So, the specialists on the team handled all communication with them. We were told not to tell any of our accounts of the current situation with the re-organization. This was all very awkward. I began to realize how addicted I was to my work emails via my laptop and my cellphone. I had been living that way for years in my current role.
By Wednesday, leadership sent an email out asking for any applications to the new roles to be submitted so interviews could be set up on Thursday. It was obvious by 5 on Wednesday who had chosen to apply. There were 7 of us that did not apply.
On Thursday, I emailed HR to ask who I should turn in my laptop and badge to on Friday. They had no idea and told me they would let me know. Later that day, they emailed 2-3 staff members that would accept my laptop and badge. I chose Tom, a really good person who was part of compliance. I sent him a text asking what time worked for him on Friday. We agreed to 11 on Friday.
I didn’t sleep well on Thursday night. I was driving back to that place, and it would be for the last time. There were a lot of emotions and memories of all the years I had worked at this location. Some were good memories and some were things I would like to forget. All the drama, the hard work, toxic co-workers, horrible leadership, and stress. On the other hand, there were lifetime friendships, good people, leaders that really tried to make a difference, laughter, joy, sense of service, and a good chunk of my life.
On Friday morning, I gathered my laptop, charger, badge, and some of the organization’s shirts and hats that someone could use. I even turned in the beloved “pins” that we were told to wear. I kept my 20-year pin as a memento. I put everything in a bag and put it in my car for the last trip.
I knew that 3 of us on the team were meeting Tom at 11 in the parking lot. My boss had already turned his things in the day before. There was one co-worker we were not sure of his plans to stay or leave.
I pulled in the parking lot; I texted Tom to let him know I had arrived. He told me he would be right out with a box for our things. He came out the door and down the steps. I was the first to arrive from my team. He gave me a hug and said he wished I was staying. I told him it was time for me to leave. I put all work things in the box. He mentioned that a 4th person had decided to turn everything in and would be joining us. Tom and I talked until the other 3 entered the parking lot beside us. What kind of conversation can you have when it is your last day? Our faces showed disbelief, sadness, anger, and relief. We were already on the emotional rollercoaster of unemployment. Everybody hugged. Tom went back to work, and we got in our cars.
This was my last day of work, and I drove away with 25 years in my rearview mirror. Where will the next chapter of my life take me?
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