The end of an era

Wednesday - last day at work before my post became redundant. I got up at the usual time (6pm) and opened the house up before setting off to work. The traffic was fairly slow, and I started to accelerate and overtake until I realised there was no need to worry about being a few minutes late - it probably wouldn’t have mattered if I had been half an hour late.

Anyway I got to the office and sat at my desk and began working through all the loose ends that needed to be tidied up. It seemed like any other day, especially as there were several “just do this before you go” requests that kept me busy until midday. Gradually the surreality of the situation became apparent and I stopped processing tasks that I knew would never be finished.

My assistant Caron Maryatt arrived (she started at 9 o’clock) and I could tell something was bothering her, so I asked how she was feeling and she told me “I feel worried sick”. We talked for a while, and it turned out that there was nothing in particular that was worrying her (money wasn’t a problem since she didn‘t really need to work), it was just the process of being made redundant that was so stressful (I suppose she felt it as a personal rejection, which was ridiculous since out of all the staff in the company she has been one of the most loyal and conscientious). She also said she was very keen to find another job since she has always had her own income independent of her husband.

Lunchtime arrived, and I suggested to Caron that we had lunch together to mark the four years we have worked in the Marketing team. She is a Jehovah’s Witness, so taking her to a pub was out of the question, but about half a mile a way from the company is a quiet little garden centre that has a café, and I knew that would be her sort of place. Outside in the car park the heat was incredible (92 degrees Fahrenheit by the gauge in my car) and we were glad to get to the café where a rudimentary form of air conditioning was in operation.

Toasted ham and cheese sandwiches, pieces of fruit cake (so hard they were almost uneatable), tea served in little individual teapots. We talked about all the Marketing projects that would come to a stop, and how much the company would miss us once we had gone (I didn’t tell her my private fear - that once we had gone the Marketing department will be completely looted within about two days, everything we have built up over the years will be destroyed, and within a few weeks most people will forget we had ever existed. Not having a Marketing Communications department is certainly going to cause the company difficulties, but it will be some months before the situation becomes acute and by that time a cover-up and blame deferral operation will be in full swing).

Back to the office, and less than an hour before the final meeting with Human Resources. Various people came over to say how sorry they were that we were leaving. E-mails still kept pinging their way onto my PC but I left them unanswered and switched everything off. The meeting with Marion Conway, Human Resources Director, lasted about twenty minutes - the formal letter (and P45!) was handed over, the (generous) cheque was handed over, then we chatted for a while about how Marketing had established itself over the years and how lucky we had been with the quality of staff (“There’s never been any problems with your department” she told me).

Emerging from Human Resources, I found Caron was waiting for me in the (now officially abolished) Marketing department. We walked all around the general office shaking hands with people and saying goodbye, then did the same round all the individual departments (the Accounts Manager, who joined the company the same day I did, insisted on hugging and kissing me and saying she would miss our talks). Down to the warehouse, again just shaking hands and saying goodbye to people - the entire process took us nearly an hour (fifteen of which we spent with Sales Director Neil Hancock).

And then we walked out the door. I could tell Caron Maryatt was very relieved (“We’re free” she kept saying, “we’re free!”). We were (I think) the last of the twenty redundancies to be effected.

The end of an era, but also a good opportunity to move on and up to the next level.