Tomorrow marks the end of an era in my life. To most it would seem like a simple, meaningless transition into a more "normal" life, but my last day at "The Luke" will be incredibly bittersweet. St. Luke Lutheran Community is not a particularly exceptional place to work, but there's just something about it that keeps people hanging on, particularly in Dietary (for those of you who are not familiar with the nomenclature, that's a fancy word for the people who make/serve the food). People seem to stay on staff, often working the minimum hours required, for much longer than they expected to and probably longer than they should have. I am one such employee. August 18 would mark 9 years of being employed at The Luke, which may not seem that long to many people, but when you're 27, spending one-third of your life at a job feels pretty significant. I probably sound pretty melodramatic right now, I know. Perhaps I'm just getting nostalgic in my old age, but I was a young, raw 18-year-old when I first joined the team there, and it was my first "real" job. I was lost and looking for direction, and The Luke provided me with stability and accountability in many ways. What was always "just a job" ended up teaching me quite a bit about the world, the people in it, and the final demise we all meet. I will be happy to have more time with my family, but for these reasons, and especially because of my coworkers, I will be sad to say goodbye. As my final farewell I would like to tell you a few things I learned during my tenure there:
1) Life is short, but sometimes it's also very long. Sometimes life goes on, as John Mellencamp would say, long after the thrill of living is gone. Working with people with handicaps, both physical and mental, makes or breaks you. You learn to serve, you become bitter, or you just leave. Those are pretty much your 3 basic options, and I've seen all three of them chosen. Serving people with dementia is particularly taxing. For me, although I was only in Dietary (read: the easy job at a Nursing Home), it forced me to get out of my comfort zone and see the painful parts of life. I was the youngest of the family, so I had never really been forced to serve people who could not appreciate it. Having had a mother who struggled with dementia during her final year acquainted me with it in a small measure, but serving strangers with dementia requires far more of you. In short, working at St. Luke taught me much about the end of life and the stages that it often takes to get there.
2) There are many different types of people in the world. When I applied at The Luke, I was a strange combination of naive, idealistic, and spiritually backslidden. The people I met at The Luke occupied all steps on the spiritual spectrum, from devout to antagonistic to religion. Most of my coworkers probably fell somewhere in the middle. Working with different people in real life forced me to become more gracious and humble (I hope) with my less religious coworkers, while also reflecting on how my more devout coworkers viewed me. I never pretended to be anything but a Christian (even working every Saturday so as not to miss church), but my behavior often belied my profession. Beyond the religious aspect of working with other people, I also learned to work with quirky people. When you confront the challenge head-on, it often becomes the most enjoyable part of a job.
3) I'm a bit like my father. For those of you who don't really know me or my father, let me just say that I share a few attributes with him. One such attribute is the insistence on cleaning things properly, particularly when it comes to sweeping and mopping a floor. There are few things in this world more beautiful than a properly mopped floor. We all find ourselves recapitulating our parents idiosyncrasies in different areas of life. I notice it when I'm wiping down a stainless steel dish area or mopping a floor.
4) Family has many different meanings. I have never had a shortage of family. In truth, I have been abundantly blessed with close and extended family members who have been willing to help me when I needed it. Still, there's something about being 18 and finding a home-away-from-home at work that makes the days go by more quickly. I have been blessed to work with some great people over the last 9 years. Some I have grown to know well, while others I know well enough to share a mutual nod when passing in the hallway. All of them, however, have served to make my time there an enriching and enjoyable experience. That kitchen has seen some fun times, some joyful times, and some sad times. I feel blessed to have participated in a few of them.
5) Some of the most profound conversations can be had while doing dishes. I have spent many hours of my life pushing dishes through a giant, loud dish machine. It's not a particularly taxing job, mentally speaking, so a few of us dishwashers like to discuss the finer things of life, topics like religion, philosophy, music, economics, and many other scientific and artistic concepts, while doing dishes. You think I'm kidding, but, I assure you, we solved most of the world's problems while shouting over the noise of that dish machine. I will forever appreciate these conversations.
Bonus: 6) There's so much more that I can't tell you. That's not a nostalgic summary; it's literally true, and I had to learn it the hard way. HIPAA laws are strict and management has no sense of humor when you violate them. It's not like we have any top-secret information that would jeopardize the safety of our country, but all healthcare workers are required to treat their clients' information as sensitively as if they were handling classified information, which is one reason why you won't find the names, medical conditions, or physical descriptions of any residents in this post. It's remarkably easy to violate HIPAA laws.
I honestly don't know how I'll feel when I walk out that door for the last time. I'll be happy to have a simpler schedule that doesn't require me to miss time with family and friends, but I'll be sad to lose a piece of myself. I'll be happy to open up a new chapter of my life, but I'll be sad to say goodbye to the people who have made the place so memorable. I guess only tomorrow will tell.
1) Life is short, but sometimes it's also very long. Sometimes life goes on, as John Mellencamp would say, long after the thrill of living is gone. Working with people with handicaps, both physical and mental, makes or breaks you. You learn to serve, you become bitter, or you just leave. Those are pretty much your 3 basic options, and I've seen all three of them chosen. Serving people with dementia is particularly taxing. For me, although I was only in Dietary (read: the easy job at a Nursing Home), it forced me to get out of my comfort zone and see the painful parts of life. I was the youngest of the family, so I had never really been forced to serve people who could not appreciate it. Having had a mother who struggled with dementia during her final year acquainted me with it in a small measure, but serving strangers with dementia requires far more of you. In short, working at St. Luke taught me much about the end of life and the stages that it often takes to get there.
2) There are many different types of people in the world. When I applied at The Luke, I was a strange combination of naive, idealistic, and spiritually backslidden. The people I met at The Luke occupied all steps on the spiritual spectrum, from devout to antagonistic to religion. Most of my coworkers probably fell somewhere in the middle. Working with different people in real life forced me to become more gracious and humble (I hope) with my less religious coworkers, while also reflecting on how my more devout coworkers viewed me. I never pretended to be anything but a Christian (even working every Saturday so as not to miss church), but my behavior often belied my profession. Beyond the religious aspect of working with other people, I also learned to work with quirky people. When you confront the challenge head-on, it often becomes the most enjoyable part of a job.
3) I'm a bit like my father. For those of you who don't really know me or my father, let me just say that I share a few attributes with him. One such attribute is the insistence on cleaning things properly, particularly when it comes to sweeping and mopping a floor. There are few things in this world more beautiful than a properly mopped floor. We all find ourselves recapitulating our parents idiosyncrasies in different areas of life. I notice it when I'm wiping down a stainless steel dish area or mopping a floor.
4) Family has many different meanings. I have never had a shortage of family. In truth, I have been abundantly blessed with close and extended family members who have been willing to help me when I needed it. Still, there's something about being 18 and finding a home-away-from-home at work that makes the days go by more quickly. I have been blessed to work with some great people over the last 9 years. Some I have grown to know well, while others I know well enough to share a mutual nod when passing in the hallway. All of them, however, have served to make my time there an enriching and enjoyable experience. That kitchen has seen some fun times, some joyful times, and some sad times. I feel blessed to have participated in a few of them.
5) Some of the most profound conversations can be had while doing dishes. I have spent many hours of my life pushing dishes through a giant, loud dish machine. It's not a particularly taxing job, mentally speaking, so a few of us dishwashers like to discuss the finer things of life, topics like religion, philosophy, music, economics, and many other scientific and artistic concepts, while doing dishes. You think I'm kidding, but, I assure you, we solved most of the world's problems while shouting over the noise of that dish machine. I will forever appreciate these conversations.
Bonus: 6) There's so much more that I can't tell you. That's not a nostalgic summary; it's literally true, and I had to learn it the hard way. HIPAA laws are strict and management has no sense of humor when you violate them. It's not like we have any top-secret information that would jeopardize the safety of our country, but all healthcare workers are required to treat their clients' information as sensitively as if they were handling classified information, which is one reason why you won't find the names, medical conditions, or physical descriptions of any residents in this post. It's remarkably easy to violate HIPAA laws.
I honestly don't know how I'll feel when I walk out that door for the last time. I'll be happy to have a simpler schedule that doesn't require me to miss time with family and friends, but I'll be sad to lose a piece of myself. I'll be happy to open up a new chapter of my life, but I'll be sad to say goodbye to the people who have made the place so memorable. I guess only tomorrow will tell.
Comments
Post a Comment