5 Reasons Learning Magic Tricks Can Make You a Better Realtor
When tragedy strikes, it’s so difficult to navigate your personal life, let alone your professional life.
But the world doesn’t stop, even when your world seems to have ended.
I want to share my story with you and how I recovered in my professional life after the devastation in my personal life – what boundaries I set, how I reacted to others and what I did wrong that I would have liked to do better.
My personal story
In 2005, a little over a year after marrying my beloved, we discovered that we were pregnant for the first time, and we were so excited that we called everyone we knew before leaving the gynecologist’s office. On our next visit, however, we were referred to a perinatal specialist and told that we were already in the second trimester, but not even showing yet.
We learned right away that Kennedy was in so much trouble with him that there was literally no chance he would survive after birth, and we were forced to abort for my personal health, but we felt forced to keep him safe as long as we could in the comfort of the womb for his short life
So for nearly two months, we lived with the “today is the day his heart will stopfear. When the day came, we gave birth to our stillborn son. Even though we knew it was coming, it was the most overwhelming silence you could imagine – a child born that never cries.
Aaron, my younger brother, my Irish twin, my best friend outside of my marriage, sent a teddy bear and chocolates, not knowing what to say, and experiencing his own fear upon finding out after us that his wife was also pregnant. We named the bear K-Bear for Kennedy, and I still sleep in my arms to this day.
Fast forward almost two years, and we’re still not fully back together — not me, not my husband, not my family.
At the time, my brother had two babies, one only four weeks old, and we savored how amazing they are and what miracle babies really are. He didn’t show up to do silly internet videos on a Sunday, and we thought he was distracted by his babies, but no, he called and left a message which I missed. In a cheerful voice, he proclaimed that he was on his way and would be there shortly.
A few minutes later, he disappeared forever in a single car accident, and no one knows why, but his wife and children survived the accident. I had ignored my phone all day, so it wasn’t until the police knocked on my door that night that we found out what had happened.
I found myself comparing the losses and felt enormous guilt for being even more devastated by the loss of my brother. When Kennedy passed away, we had time to rationalize and understand through genetic testing and talking to our priest that sometimes bad things happen, and we have to keep trying.
When Aaron died, it never made sense.
This is still not the case.
How the world reacted
The first loss was very private, and it was before social media was big, so we suffered in silence, and since our siblings all got pregnant at the same time, we had to choose to be happy for them rather than feeling disrespected.
When Aaron died, the internet responded by raising money for his wife, because they were so so young and had no savings or insurance.
Hundreds of condolence letters poured in, flowers arrived, and a friend even sent the local Knights of Columbus to our house and presented a rosary. Everything was very moving.
I remember going to the grocery store the morning after Kennedy died and wondering why everyone was shopping like nothing had happened.
Didn’t they know?
why were they all smiling?
When Aaron died, the exact same thing happened. It’s so hard to understand that when my world stopped, everyone carried on as usual, and the silent pain that echoed in my ears was too sharp for others to hear.
How I recovered at work
In 2005, I worked at a medium-sized business developer and was honest with my employers about everything. I called them as soon as we found out we were pregnant, and when we found out it wouldn’t work. I also told my boss when it was all over.
At that time, when people came to my office to offer their condolences, I let them. I chose to be very open about what happened, how I felt, and that we would try again. I found that the open door allowed people not to feel sorry for me (which was my fear), but rather to understand.
When I read concern on people’s faces, I asked if they had any questions. I asked if they knew anyone who had experienced a stillbirth, and realized that most people were so concerned about my condition because they had experienced something similar in their life or through a relative.
Allowing people to connect during this tragedy has really helped an office get back to work rather than tiptoeing around, or wondering and gossiping.
In 2007, my work was exclusively online, so I didn’t have an open door on my office, I had an email account, a Twitter account, a Facebook account, etc. Because we were organizing the wake at our house and we had to move my sister-in-law to her parents, it was difficult to work, let alone share what we were going through.
In order to open our doors, we had a handful of friends who were our interlocutors.
They are the ones who blogged about what happened and what was going on. They were the ones who had our address and phone number for those who wanted to contact us, and during the peak of burial business they were our gatekeepers so to speak, only they were there to serve as a means of keeping the doors open. instead of closed.
When the dust settled, we shared our experience publicly and asked people to share their stories of loss.
In a digital world, people are desperate to connect, whether professionally or personally, and giving them a way to do that was a huge help, and I found that people never expected a immediate response, they just wanted us to know we were taken care of, and answered all emails, even though it took a very, very long time.
learn from my mistakes
Any loss is terrible, be it an Irish son or twin, a neighbor, a spouse, a relative, a house burning or any loss. Pain can’t be measured on a scale, I promise.
If I could start all over again, the mistake I made was not to keep my doors open to my colleagues so we could all focus on work, but to close them to my family because I assumed that they knew what I was going through, since they were going through it too.
The truth is that we all experienced these losses differently, and it hurt some of our family relationships that we grieved differently.
Don’t be afraid to cry, don’t sugarcoat things to make people around you comfortable, don’t tiptoe people around, and for God’s sake don’t tell your story. story to grab attention. Be healthy about your recovery, and life will return to normal at a better pace than if you didn’t go through the stages of loss.
When you return to work for the first time after a tragedy in your life, keep your doors open, invite questions, and ask your own questions. The pain is deep, but most people confuse telling their story with a hurt, when in reality, being open to talking about it is extremely helpful for healing and the best way to get your professional life back on track. .
This editorial first appeared on WGB.