As it began, so it ends

An astute reader (or someone with a great deal of time on their hands) will recall that the first entry in this blog was entitled, “My God! What have I done?”

As this six-, no wait, eight-month adventure draws to a close, it’s fitting that I end on a similar note.

To wit:
Today was my last day of work in France.
Today was also my last day of work at Boeing.

These changes came about almost as quickly as our initial decision to come to France for six months.

After considering a career move for many, many years, something “clicked” during the past few months and I realized that the time had come. I spoke with Ceil and as ever, received her unwavering support.

Work with the French firm has been a bit slow of late, and I dropped a few hints about feeling homesick, etc. When the Boeing manager responsible for my project came to town a couple of weeks ago, I shared my career decision with her. The next day, she and I had a talk with the folks at the supplier and we decided that I’d leave at the end of the next week. My lips to God’s ear… and suddenly I’m packing bags.

As all this was unfolding, so too was the universe conspiring to undo my plan for taking six months off and growing a beard. I mentioned my decision to leave Boeing to a couple of friends, one of whom works for a small consulting firm which I admire very much. That conversation led to an email exchange with the firm’s managing partner. The firm's HR department was engaged and a resume was hastily updated and emailed; telephone interviews were scheduled, missed due to time-zone miscalculations by your correspondent, and then finally consummated. In the end, I was offered and accepted a position with this company.

The decision to leave Boeing has been sinking in slowly: my erstwhile boss in Seattle was unsurprised and very supportive – when my tenure in France was extended, they brought on a replacement -- that call took less than ten minutes; the Human Resources department was very helpful – “go to the website and click ‘resign’.” -- no call involved there; the on-line resignation process was surreal in it’s simplicity and lack of ceremony – “please take a few moments to complete this survey and help us better serve future employees…on a scale of one to five, how would you rate…?” Seventeen years and the exit takes about as many minutes.

The occasion of my departure from the supplier has been marked by a far more satisfying series of ceremonies and small speeches back and forth – a champagne toast with the committee of directors, drinks with the Boeing team, drinks with the supplier team, dinner and yet more drinks with one of the folks I’ve worked with most closely, and finally, today, a tearful series of handshakes and hugs as I took my leave.

I was surprised, touched and deeply satisfied by the depth of melancholy I felt, and the displays of affection I received. Given the many moments of frustration I’ve experienced during this assignment, I had not expected to need to pull to the side of the road for a good cry as I left for the last time.

And so now begins the journey home.

I’m flying to Madrid tomorrow morning for a previously planned one-day visit. My flight leaves at 8am, and though I thought to drive up from Issoudun early in the morning, the emotion of the day left me exhausted and longing for a night in a different place – so I’ve taken a room in a mid-range Paris hotel. I’ll spend Saturday in Madrid, returning to Paris on Sunday evening before catching an 11:45am flight to the US. Estimated time of arrival in Seattle is 6:45pm Monday April 2.

Sitting here in this tiny room, I feel peaceful and calm – the afterglow of today’s tears, the dawning realization that I’ve let go of a big piece of my self-identity, and the anticipation of holding my wife and kids in my arms… all these things are swirling around me. And yet, I feel still and at ease. And the little voice, “My God, what have I done?” seems far, far away.

Peace be with you.