Robbin Blue wrote:I like this statement. It's simple, flows well, and gets a pretty good story across. Your ideas for additions also sound good, so carry on. Post again when you have something more solid to look at.
Thanks guys. Here is the updated version. I may make a new post for it.
A bunch of us were sitting around watching the movie The Hangover in my living room. Perhaps starting with that as my opening line isn't the best idea, but I promise I have a point.
Early in the movie Zach Gallifinakus' character is asked what he does for a living. His answer "I'm a stay at home son." My sister laughed and yelled out "Sam!" I smiled half heartedly, because I was ashamed. Everyone else joined in? Speaking out would have shown the, that I was hurt, or that I wasn't a good sport. According to my sisters I don't have a real job. At the time part of me thought that was true.
It's been many years since one of them has actually said that to my face, but it's in their minds. I get wind of what's being said behind my back from time to time; like the time I mentioned one of my "clients" in passing and my young nephew-son of another sister-said "oh, I didn't know you worked." It was obvious that my lack of "employment" was a topic of discussion in their home.
Dad was still alive when we were all watching the movie together. He was in his 90s and while I didn't like to admit it, he was not well. I helped my mother care for dad while running my family business. My parents bought and operated a residential building in East Harlem since 1989. In 2004, three years after my father had retired and with my mother overwhelmed by the business, I took over.
One minute I was carefree twenty something, and the next I was negotiating with contractors, going to court with tenants and wading through city regulations. It was a tough time for the business. Months after taking my position a problem tenant caused a small electrical outage while illegally tapping into the building's electrical supply line. NYPD, FDNY and the city housing department descended upon us when the same tenant called the fire department to report the outage. Violations were handed out for the most minor infractions. Things like a crack on a floor tile, painted radiator were written up. We were swamped with over 400 housing violations. Not long after we were hauled into court for allegedly over charging a rent stabilized tenant.
We did have some actual problems. The building needed some serious repairs. After seeing a story on my local news channel of a struggling local construction company I contacted the owner. I worked closely with him and made some much needed improvements to the property.
It was sink or swim, and I'm happy to say I didn't sink. Over the years I've turned that building into a business that practically runs itself. I rethought our goals, accomplished things that my parents couldn't. As I write this I'm months away from obtaining a new certificate of occupancy, something my father worked hard for but never realized. Months before his death I faced our biggest challenge, a fire which destroyed a large portion of our first floor. That was a difficult year, but a year of emotional and professional growth.
Dad had cancer and we didn't know it until it was too late. The last few years of his life were tough. My mother and I were alone, I had one sister who blinded herself to the reality that dad needed us, and three sisters who didn't feel it was their problem.
Caring for my father wasn't a chore, my mother and I did it with love. It was real, and hard, and in some cases ugly. On some strange level, I understood my sisters for shirking their responsibilities. To see my father this way was not easy. He had us later in life but we were used to this old man who was strong, and tough, resilient. To see a man age, to enter the winter of his life so quickly, so early in your own life is difficult. This was my reality for many years. These were my responsibilities, my job.
For my sisters, the fact that I don't wake up in the morning, and hurry off to some office owned by someone who isn't a blood relation means I don't really have a job. That's the way they see it, and I've learned to live with that. What I've also learned is to acknowledge my achievments. I know what I've done, I understand my journey.
I've accomplished a lot, in fact, there's little else I can do with this business to improve upon it. I'm ready for the next step in my personal evolution. I've set aside my personal goals, dreams, and aspirations for a long time. This is not said with bitterness or regret. If I didn't tend to the business no one else would have, if I didn't help my mother care for my dad they would have been alone. I stepped up when I was needed and now with the support of my mother,my wife my children, and no doubt, the support of my greatest champion,my late father I hope to do something new and great. I hope to attend law school and reach new heights. This isn't to prove anything to anyone but myself.