I work in Innovation at The Clorox Company.  When Gordie died I had worked there for a mere 16 months.  The position I had back then reported into a function in the Oakland Headquarters but I did nearly all of my work for a small innovation group located at the Pleasanton R&D campus.  The function I reported into is a large group with some politics that, frankly, drove me nuts.  The small innovation group that I did the majority of my work for had become a family to me and had, from day one, provided an environment where I felt safe and happy.  But that was before I became a Solo Parent.

In the week following Gordie’s funeral the thought of returning to work caused me significant stress for many reasons.  First, I was terrified I would not be able to control my emotions and that I would embarrass myself at work.  Second, I was worried that I would not be able to function and perform my job at the level I was accustomed to.  Third, I was a ticking time bomb with the anger that raged inside my body.  What if I totally lost it?  Fourth, would people quietly talk about what had happened to me as I left meetings or as I passed by them in the halls?  Finally, I was scared shitless about how I would manage being a solo parent while working full time in a demanding job, at a demanding company.  That last fear was, at times, absolutely paralyzing.

Honestly, I did not want to return.  I wanted to take a leave of absence.  But I was afraid of the financial consequence and the long-term implications at work.  I knew that Clorox would accommodate a leave of absence but ultimately I was afraid that I would lose the Innovation position I had back then.  There was no way they could have held my job open.  They would have to fill it and find a new place for me when I returned.  I loved that job.  It was the only job that I wanted at Clorox.  And it worked well with my life.  It was located in Pleasanton.  Most of the other positions at my level in my function were located in Oakland.  And they were not 100% focused on innovation, which was my passion.  If I was going to continue working at Clorox, that was the only job I wanted.  I had to go back.  I felt there was no other choice.  Ironically, years later, that position would be eliminated.

I officially did not return back to work until three weeks after Gordie died.  However, ten days after Gordie’s funeral there was a meeting with my small Innovation team in Pleasanton that I felt I had to attend.  Two of the projects I was in charge of were on the agenda.  Even though work was the last place I wanted to go, I felt compelled to attend the meeting.  I did not tell anyone I was coming.  I woke up that morning and went for a run.  I thought the running might help calm my nerves before going into the office.  I was so nervous that it impacted my run; every part of my body was tight and the run hurt.  I tried to relax my body into an easy pace but my body would not cooperate.  My mind was racing.  How on earth was I going to walk into my office?

After my run, I got myself showered and decently enough dressed.  I put on just enough make-up so that I did not look like death.   I drove to work, all the way saying out loud “please let me not cry, please let me not cry, please let me not cry”.

I walked into my building and up the stairs.  Nobody saw me.  I headed to the conference room and took a deep breath just before I opened the door.  Everyone looked toward the door.  The surprise on their faces was notable but short.  One by one people came up to me gave me a hug and said things like “it’s nice to see you back” or “welcome back”.  Nobody said the dreaded words “I’m sorry”.  It was like they knew I could not hear those words.  And then we got down to business and everyone treated me normal.

One week later I returned to Pleasanton full time.  Again, everyone treated me normal.  Over the weeks a few of the people I was close to would ask me how I was doing or ask about the kids and I would open up and talk to them.  One of those people was Lisa, a woman who lost her husband years ago.  She had told me her story months before Gordie died but I did not truly understand her life until now.  In an email while I was still out, she wrote “we are sisters now”.  Indeed we were.  Over the next few months and years Lisa would become very important to me.  I talked to her.  I cried to her.  I asked her questions that nobody else could understand or answer.  I would look for her face when I was presenting or talking in a meeting.  She was comforting to me for reasons I am still not able to explain.

I made it until about 3pm on that first official day back to work.  I then hit a wall emotionally and physically.  I was exhausted from holding back the tears for over six hours.  I quietly slid out the door and drove home, crying all the way.  For several months after Gordie died, I would often leave at 3 or 4pm, just before the tears broke through the dam and started to fall.  I would finish my work late at night when I was looking for an excuse not to go to bed alone.  I am very, very grateful to Clorox and my bosses back then.  I got my job done, and I did it well, but often not during regular work hours.  Nobody ever said a word.

So, at least three out of my four fears did not come true.  I never embarrassed myself at work with a crying breakdown.  I never went into an angry rage.  I was able to perform my job at the level that I was accustomed to.  I don’t know if people talked about what happened to me as I left meetings or after they passed me in the halls.  I’m sure they did but if they did, they were very discrete.  I never heard anything…at all.

Unfortunately my fifth, and biggest, fear was valid.  Working full time and being a solo parent would prove to be more difficult than I actually feared.