The "Other" Family...
I tallied up some figures last week that really made me think about some things. In the average week, I spend 93 hours with my family and at home. That means I spend 75 hours either at work, or commuting to and from work. Now multiply those figures by nineteen years...
I spend almost as much time at my job as I do at home. I looked in the mirror at a bald-headed, almost middle-aged man, and remembered the Afro wearing young cat that started working at Conway Central Express back in September of 1999. Time seems to have gotten away from me...
In October of '99, I stepped off the dock to smoke a cigarette in between two trailers. Another driver did the same, and we introduced ourselves to each other. Since then? We've become more than just co-workers or even friends. That's my brother, who has put his hand in the fire for me, and vice versa. For real. Thanks Big Shawn, for everything.
I work with two young cats who I've known since they were in pampers and pull-ups, because I've known their parents for almost twenty years. Of course I extend more help or advice to them than I would any other new employees because, well, they're family.
When someone has worked with the same core of people, we experience life together. Births, weddings, divorces, illnesses, injuries, accidents, new houses, new cars, vacations, and of course, death. We hug, laugh, pray, hang out, argue, etc., just like any other family.
This morning, at the end of our monthly meeting, our terminal manager brought up Christmas charities, and he reiterated the fact that we are a family. He started to tell a story, and he couldn't get it out without tears on face, and emotion in his voice. In that moment, for those that don't know him as a person, but just as the guy in charge, he became a brother, cousin, uncle, etc. A family member...
He told of two of our "family" members going through tough times, and asked if we'd be willing to donate money or whatever to help out these two anonymous co-workers. Of course we all agreed and told him we'd give from our hearts as we always do. He asked us to try to be nicer to each other, or to make someone smile or feel better about whatever they might be going through. Like a family would.
The meeting adjourned, and I went about my business of trying to make it home. A driver I've known for at least 15 years spoke to me as he always has. He'd been in the meeting too. He told me of the struggle he's currently going through, admitting he is one of the two drivers. I hugged him, told him I'd pray for him, and help any way that I can. He thanked me and told me to "Have a great day."
I waited until I was almost to my Suburban before I started bawling. I vowed to do what I could to help. Then I remembered the drivers who gave me a ride home when I didn't have a car, who advised me not to quit after 9/11, who would lend a struggling cat a few bucks, who gave advice and directions when needed, who bought a book by me just because, who have helped me along every step of the way for a very long time...
To have a beautiful family is a blessing. To have an amazing "other family" is a double blessing, for which I thank God. One love to my co-workers at XPO/XBV terminal, and to my other XPO family members scattered through Chicagoland. If I can help, I will. If you need an ear, I have two. If you need a hug, my arms are open. If you need a dollar... I'm gonna have to check my bank account. Holler if you need me. Thanks for everything.
RIP to Charles Wilson, Harvey Nielsen, Robert Yancy, Freebird, and all of the other family members lost over the years. You're remembered fondly...
