Tuesday, February 5, 2008

In Between Generations

I had lunch with a woman from work the other day. She and I have worked on a couple of projects together over the past couple of years, and we try to keep in touch.

Since I'm part of the club now, we were talking about raising families. She's about 10 years older than me, and she started her family very young. If I'm doing my math correctly (let's see... carry the 1, divided by the square root of n...) she was about 19 when she had her first child. She looks very young, too. If I were worse at math, I'd have guessed her to be just a couple years older than me, say holding 40 in one hand or the other.

It was a nice conversation about how she and her husband decided to move away from a much squarer state and smaller town than ours when he was injured about 20 years ago. They picked up their family, moved here, both got college educations, and got good jobs. I told her that I really admired her for doing that, and she responded, "You can say that, but we really had no choice. He couldn't work at the time, and the place where we lived had no jobs and no real hope."

I still admire her.

When we came back to the office and parted ways, she told me that she was starting to feel really old, because her older son was turning 30 next year. I made the appropriate noise of, "Time flies," or something, and we waved and went back to our desks.

Although I knew this at the time of our conversation, it really hit me about an hour later that her little baby works on my floor, is well thought of in his tech support job, and has been at Mega Corporation One for several years. In fact, I had lunch with Mandy and him a couple of weeks ago.

It seems odd to me to have a peer relationship with both a parent and a child at work. It's sort of the counterpoint to the first time a younger person, in all sincerity, called me "Sir."

1 comment:

Another gay dad said...

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