There comes a point in every woman's life when they wished they were born a man.
That moment came when I met him. My boss. He had lost his wife then, and he was, unknown to others, in pain. I knew it was kind of pain it was. I experienced it too, though I was much younger.
Everyone thought that he was doing okay. He was a man, for goodness sake. He was taught by society to bear the pain without crying. To swallow it up and shed no tears. Men are not supposed to cry. They would be called "pussies" if they did.
I pitied him at first. To be left behind by someone they loved, and never see them, or hug them, or speak to them again… it is unbearable. I pitied him because he was such a good man, and yet this kind of tragedy had to happen to him.
He has a six-year old son, too. And to raise a child of such young age alone, I'm pretty sure it would be difficult.
But he trudged on. He worked endlessly and tirelessly. Within a few weeks, he was smiling and laughing again. He made sure he had time for his son, and now he's getting him to prepare for school. If he was lonely or sad, he never showed it.
And because of that, he earned my respect.
He was a really good boss. He was kind, but stern when needed. At times, I saw him angry, but he made sure that his anger never ruled over him. He treated his workers well, and gave them proper praise and sanction when needed. Most of us liked him and joked around with him, but when the time for work comes, we treat him with respect and we do our best to make sure he is satisfied with our work.
I think, everything started to get messed up a couple of years ago.