Dear P,
For months and months before you got on that airplane, you told me that Gage would be the one to take over for you whenever it was that you left the city.
I would ask you how you knew that, why you thought that, why Gage... why are you bringing this up to me?!
Then you got on the plan.
Then I had a stroke.
Then that other guy was hired to take your position.
And I lived in an actual hell for 7 1/2 years.
Hell.
Fear.
Sadness.
Confusion.
Abuse.
Day after day after day.
It wasn't the way you told me it was going to be.
But I hung in there.
Here.
I kept showing up.
Then that guy retired.
And Gage came.
And the sun started to shine again.
I stopped being afraid (literally scared to death) to go to work every day.
I started to do my job again.
I started doing my job again and doing it so well.
I started to blossom.
Heal.
Smile.
Yup, there's stress.
Yup, there's overstimulation.
Yup, there's craziness.
But it's safe again.
Nice things are being said to me.
There's laughter again.
It's just the way you promised it would be.
You knew all along.
You helped me to keep going when I just wanted to quit.
Dear P,
It's all better.
Thank you.
PS
I formed a city-wide administrative assistant boot camp.
My idea started with goals and a vision.
It now holds space for 40 people every month.
Two hours every second Thursday.
Gage has been my biggest cheerleader... in the flesh.
It's a HUGE undertaking.
But I'm doing it.
Every month.
And I know you're proud.










































