Monday, the Beginning of my Second Week
Today was nothing like I was expecting. I thought that today was going to be a day of melancholy, packing the DLO and saying goodbyes. We would each be on our way to destinations far and wide (just not East Tincup). Someone was looking out for us, however, and it seems that good publicity saved us.
The Denver Post featured our little band, describing how we saved Charlie (and identified Eugene Mossley as the real killer). Take that Andrea! Seriously, what is wrong with her? Does she begin each day with a piping hot cup of vinegar and snark? She had to inform us that we were continuing and in fact expanding our operations, so of course she took delight in letting me know that my transfer had been approved just to balance that good news with some that was not.
I was completely floored. To be honest, I had kind of forgotten that I had indeed applied for a transfer at all. I needed to take a bit of time to get my thoughts in order. Really, I had already made the decision to stay before I walked out of the office but I needed some time to get it clear in my mind why.
Denver is absolutely not DC, but I think I like it here….
The DLO is clearly not Direct Line Operations, but it feels more suited to my skills (both sanctioned and not)….
Rita is a doll, and I feel safer growing a friendship with her than with anyone else I have ever worked with, except maybe Becky…
I started last week thinking that Norman was the oddest guy I had ever met and ended the week thinking that he was just about the sweetest…
I began the week thinking that Oliver was weird; old-fashioned, judgemental, arrogant, straight-laced and way too uptight. I ended the week also thinking those things, but that he was also intelligent, kind, and covering, pretty brilliantly, a gaping wound in his heart. And that maybe he is also someone I want to be friends with?
You hear lots of self-help talk of closure. I know that I will never get that with Dad. But facing the contents of his last card to me helped. How I wish that I had done things differently, but at least now I know that he wasn't thinking badly of me at the end. I can hold on to his words, and see his hope for a relationship with me in them. I am copying them here to help me remember.
Dear Shane,
You have every right to be angry. I wasn't much of a parent, and have no right to expect your forgiveness. But never doubt how proud I am of you, and how much I love you. You have always been the best of me. Please come and see me, or even call. Just don't wait too long. Enjoy your birthday Crackers. Love always, Dad.
I made a call today to a realtor. Maybe it's time to put down some roots? Shane McInerney, resident of the Mile High City?