Unlike my days in school, January is not in its 87th day and counting. Rather, January is simply sliding away with a whimper. Much of December and January was spent housebound for me as I struggled through a few viruses, and we had a long bout of really cold weather and heavy snow. This winter has been the epitome of what I pictured a Norwegian winter to be before I moved here. Recently, NBF and I were chatting about the snow, and he was talking about it being perfect conditions to take his snowblower to the cabin to make a path out on the lake for ice skating. He says, "You do know how to ice skate, right?" "Umm...I can roller skate?" "You can't skate. You can't ski. What were you thinking when you moved to a country where we ski, skate, and have winter for most of the year?! You even struggle to walk, Nellie!"
I mean, I don't really know except that it was supposed to be the start of something amazing. I've told the story a dozen times if I have told it once. I certainly did not intend to find life and love when I made the leap into international teaching. There was not a single thought in my mind about building a life in another country only travel and experiences. I was only here for a good time not here for a long time. Life has a funny way of fucking with your assumptions every chance it gets, though. Now I find myself without a carefree single attitude but with a reliable travel buddy...without full control of the remote but with morning coffee delivered to me...without an explanation for how I ended up here but with a deep abiding love. I think the balance is tipped in my favor. I will tell you about another game life likes to play with us, surprise curve ball. One day you are playing a leisurely game of ball and life decides you're a pro athlete ready to handle the pitch of a seasoned baseball player. I spent a lot of time working on myself in the years leading to my move to Norway and even in my first year here. I was really feeling like I was getting a hang of this life thing. Then swing, you're in love. Swing, AB has cancer. Swing, a new job. A little faster now, swing, move in with a family. Swing, mother dies, swing, AB dies, swing, new job, swing, another aunt dies, wait, STOP. It's been a lot to happen over the course of a couple of years. That should be a full sentence. I mean, it is a full sentence. My mind, however, went straight for the hard shit. I did the old survivor's trick of "mitigating the damage". You know, Nellie, you weren't that close to your mom and aunt anyway. You chose to take the new jobs. You chose a man with kids. You can't complain now! Funny little fellow the mind, but I think he is finally catching up to what my body and heart have been experiencing. The processor has been running overtime lately for sure. This is probably going to come as a shock to some of you, but I use humor as a coping mechanism. Therapists are not fans, even if they tell you they understand. *eye roll* Their loss. As a trauma survivor, I find the darker the humor, the better. For example, I recently told a coworker that with the death of my mother and my aunt, there was no Hope or Joy in my life anymore. I now need to lead a Hope-less and Joy-less life. See...they were named Hope and Joy...so it's...funny. And as often happens when you laugh in the face of trauma, your brain snaps back. "Hey Nellie, did you notice that you are so bothered by the word hope that you actively avoid it in your writing?" And just like that, you're swinging at a curveball you haven't a chance of hitting. I do it. I know I do it. I even know why. When I was growing up, my mom INSISTED that any friends that came over referred to her as Mrs. Rodgers. She signed her checks that way. Signed our school papers that way. She was a proud wife. When my dad died, she had a real crisis of identity. She had forgotten who Hope was, so she made it her mission to rediscover herself and reclaim her name. Hope is a really common word to find on all sorts of household decor, clothes, and more. And I think she bought some of everything. So well she did her job that she and the word "hope" became synonymous in my mind, so by extension when we really fractured our relationship, hope broke with it. In my mind, when someone says all you need is hope, I actively think...like hell I do. Worse yet, when I hear, there's always hope, that small voice in my mind says, nah, she died like the wicked witch of the west. Ding dong the bitch is dead. How is that for brutal honesty and a peek you didn't need? I'm sure you can see why I avoid it. It seems insincere and almost wrong somehow when I write it or say it. The feelings are so visceral, so real, I am certain the person reading my message with the word hope feels anything but hope....that they see through my intentions and know I saddled them with hope. And here's the rub, as I writer and human, I need hope. There are dozens of synonyms, but hope is such a powerful, dynamic, and unique word. It gives voice to a feeling and collective urge and longing. That primal emotion echoes and stirs in my mind longing to be free of the restrictive definition I have wrapped around it... free of my personal connotation. I realized that while I truly believe my life is better living Hope-less, I don't want to be hope-less. This doesn't mean I am buying the pants my mom did with HOPE splashed across the ass. (Why did we ever go so far into that trend??) BUT...I am going to really work on leaning into the very necessary human emotion of hope and all that that brings to our lives. I hope to incorporate the word into my writing...okay that was way too forced, blech. I can do better, but for now I will let Desmond Tutu guide my path.
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The last few months I have been watching NBF apply and interview for jobs. It has really highlighted the disparities in the systems and how we view work negotiations, interviews, and the emotions of losing a job. I have to admit the differences began when he was told he would be let go. In my mind, a low level panic settled in that only the American system can instill in people, and of course, in true NBF style, he appeared unbothered. As a matter of fact, he said he was looking forward to a little break.
In the Norwegian system, employees and employers sign contracts agreeing to three months notice. For NBF and his company this meant he was paid his last three months salary without having to work because the company wanted immediate changes. Further, the company negotiated a one time payout because of the circumstances. this meant that even though his last day of work was September 30th he would be paid October through December salary. Then in January, he would receive his one time pay out plus payout for his unused vacation days along with his vacation money from 2023. This meant there was no hardship and hurry. The first month, he was in total vacation mode. The kind you only realize you need when you hit the third week. After that he started selectively applying for jobs and really concentrating on school. When it came time for interviews, he could afford to be selective. In the end, he was in for second interviews with a couple of companies at one time and as a courtesy told the first company that offered him a job that he was waiting on this other job so he could compare their offers. The response from that company was complete and total understanding and support. In the end, he was able to get the job he really wanted, and even though he has been without a job for four months, our finances haven't been impacted. On the other hand, I was concerned at so many points along the way. I tried my very best not to let my anxiety and worry pour out onto him. I did understand that I was out of my element and things work differently here. As I mentioned, just him losing his job triggered panic for me. I can remember having to move when I was young because my dad lost his job. I knew from my marriage how hard it was to make the money stretch between jobs and how important it was to take the very first job you were offered. There is no room in most budgets to wait for the "dream offer". There is also no space in an American employer's mind to accept that you are considering another position. In their thinking, you must not need their job and so you can go fuck right off. My mind was awhirl with questions; Why was he so casual? Why wasn't he just applying for all the jobs he was qualified to have? Why did you tell the first job ANYTHING about the second?? After NBF was offered the job, he didn't accept their terms and negotitated for some things that were important to him. And even though he was asking for something they had never accommodated before, he was given a compromise that was acceptable to him. I am just in awe that the system manages to work for both sides of the equation and that there is so much respect and value for people in the hiring process. When I wanted to wait to plan travel until after he had started his job, he was actually quite perplexed. Why would we wait? They know people make life plans. They didn't hire me thinking my life belonged to them. They expect that things like this will come with hiring anyone. I think they would be disappointed to hear I didn't have hobbies or travel. So here we are, new start on Thursday, and all my anxiety, worry, and fear was for nothing. And I can't wait to see where his business travels take him because now he is also in an international company. Maybe I will be the one tagging along for home office on the go in some far off place while he works! |
Nellie HillJust a woman leaping outside her comfort zone and telling the tale. Archives
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