This year marks the 30th anniversary of me graduating from college, as an Occupational Therapist. This year will also be the year when I let my professional license go.
It broke my heart, but my heart was also not in it anymore.
I grew up in a household where getting a degree was not negotiable, whether you were a son or a daughter. My mother was a homemaker while my father was a working father.
There were several women in my extending family who worked full time, but they had help at home, in the forms of their mother-in law, their moms, or someone in their extended family.
We moved to the USA because of my job. There would be no external support when the time came to raise the children. We had not thought that far out.
Surely, I knew a few working moms but nobody was in the same situation I was, three children, two of them twins and a husband who would barely be there due to work conflict and there was no village for me to rely on.
It would not be cost effective to pay for childcare for the three of them. My mom told me to quit the job, she said,” they will be little only once, you can always go back to work.” I listened to her.
I did not quit my job altogether but cut it down to 2 days a week. I grew up in a joint family in India and was used to always having someone to talk to, to turn to. Here I was all alone, it was a battle of survival for all of us, challenging, emotionally, physically, and financially. My best friend at the time was fighting a battle for survival of her own. I did not know that then as I was too busy fighting my own.
Over the years, I had kept the so called foot in the door, only worked when they were at school and would always be home when they were home, the default parent, the mom, dad, play with us mom, take us to the movies mom, keep us busy mom, feed us mom, care for us when we are sick mom, pick us up from after school activities mom.
But by now they could walk, they could talk, they could have a conversation. My
life revolved around them. And just when it seemed like life at this point was
running on a cruise control where they did not need me to carry them anymore
but just be present, we were once again reassessing our priorities. One fine
day, on March 13, 2020, all hell broke loose… whatever little I was working was
gone and here I am.
Today’s ramblings are brought on as today marks the
fourth-year anniversary of that dreadful day which probably changed a lot of
lives. My heart goes out to all those who lost a family member to Covid and
especially the health care professionals who lost their lives while saving
other lives. We were the fortunate ones, and we are thankful that all of us are
alive and somehow survived those difficult days. It was not easy.
My professional license was due for renewal in February. I could not renew it because I did not have the so called “work” hours. Now, the foot is completely out of the door. Heartbreaking? Yes.
Twenty years ago, the transition of staying at home was a huge adjustment, not easy at first. The vice versa was a lot easy though, letting it go and to completely stay at home. I was sad for a day but then was already looking forward to doing a lot of things I always wanted to do but could never find the time to do, such as journaling or writing.
Over the years, I had completely neglected my physical
health, I knew the importance of exercising, Now, I am rediscovering myself,
trying to ignite the fire back.
This blog post will make more sense to you if you read my blog from last week, https://www.rekhasrambling.com/2024/03/you-and-me.html
What about you? Did you have to make changes to your life goals, career goals? Let me know in comments.
Picture of me from a "career fair day" at my children's elementary school and a chart I had made explaining my profession.
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