And the bottom drops out...

I have had the most unexpected, painful, gut-wrenching week in years. On Monday morning, our staff was told that our association was merging with another, similar group. In itself, this didn't come as a huge surprise; people have been speculating about that for years. But the fact that our CEO was retiring at the same time was a bit of a shock. A new association + new leadership = scary.

I'm working my way through the Kübler-Ross stages of grief, which I always relate back to every quasi-traumatic experience in my life. To be honest, I have spent seven years where I am, trying to build up the name of this group and the people inside of it. Now it's going away. So on Monday, I made it through denial, Tuesday was all about anger...but honestly, somewhere between 2 a.m and 5 a.m. this morning, while I was lying in bed, awake and thinking about all of this, I made it through the other stages. Unless, of course, this is some crazy trick my mind is playing on me.

I told Chad this whole experience reminded me of when I got dumped by an old boyfriend many years ago. I spent several days in some strange fog; yesterday, I realized at 7 p.m. that I had forgotten to eat breakfast or lunch. Seriously. And I wasn't even hungry.

On both occasions, my immediate reaction was that it was for the best--I really did know that. (In the case of my unexpected break-up, it was! Look who I ended up with!) But I was still so mad that I didn't see it coming and so frustrated that I didn't have a plan. The same is true for this. Chad can relate--remember, he worked for a member of Congress who lost re-election a few years ago. This is similar. And he's been incredibly supportive.

So, I'm dealing with it. None of us have any complete clarity on the safety of our jobs, at least not permanently, and we are all wondering what happens next to those other 100 people we work with every day who are our family, at least for 40 hours a week. Earlier today, I had finally gotten into a groove where I was spending so much time spearheading our effort to communicate this to staff and media that I was starting to feel better about at least having a project to keep myself occupied. (We announced the news formally this morning and I was in the office at 6:30 a.m. to make sure it went smoothly.)

That is, until tonight, when Chad asked me, "What did we decide to get Miriam for her birthday?" My heart sank to my stomach. Again.

My niece, Miriam. I love this little girl. I l-o-v-e her. She is the oldest. She is stubborn. She is what Dr. Dobson would call a "strong-willed child." I get that. Let's be honest, I am that. I hope I am blessed with one of my own just like her someday (though in some of those moments I imagine I may want to take that comment back). I have been thinking for a month about what we could send for her birthday.

On Sunday night, we decided that I would select Miriam's birthday present and mail it. (Chad doesn't pawn this off on me--I love buying her presents!) But on Monday, the bottom dropped out of my life, at least temporarily. And by Wednesday night, I realized I had failed as an aunt. Four-year-olds don't accept the I'm-sorry-your-aunt-and-uncle-got-busy-and-your-gift-will-arrive-soon line. And it's too late for me to buy and send anything. I'm hoping my mother-in-law will bail me out of this one.