YOU ARE NO LONGER PART OF GM'S FUTURE...

It has been over a month since I last wrote. One reason was that I wanted to describe the Dealership and give all kinds of details and hard facts and dates about it.  It seemed an overwhelming task for a recovering perfectionist like me.  I somehow wanted to prove just how great a place it was and how much it meant to our family but no matter how much I say it will never be enough.  I can't find the perfect words or enough details... it was part of me and it is gone. I loved it and I can't prove how much and I have decided not to try to justify my feelings. I will leave it at that for now. I have hopes that one day I will be able to share the wonderful memories without the sadness.
Secondly, we have been so busy with Jack's graduation and saying good-bye.  I wanted to savor every minute and live in the present. I was strong and I was weak and it was great and it was awful. Life... what can you do?
Thirdly, up next, was the saddest and most troubling time of my life. I guess you could say that I had to take a deep breath before putting it all into words.
Last time, I wrote of how we were spared the first round of cuts from GM dealer closings.  I had just been pink slipped. My little bump was greatly overshadowed by feeling so glad that the dealership would live another day.  It was not a great time however to be selling luxury cars in any market let alone the inner city. It could have died a natural death, so to speak...  we'll never know.
Rumors were still rampant and GM was silent.  A rumor was heard that a second round of cuts were coming.  The next afternoon, a letter arrived by Fedex from GM.  Keith said no one wanted to open it, so he did it. He said the first line went something like this: YOU ARE NO LONGER PART OF GM'S FUTURE...  no signature, no thank you, no regrets,  just FU. It was one page long and it said that more instructions would follow.  I never asked what went on during that time in the office with Keith, his dad, his uncle and his brother and I never will.
I found out over the phone.  I don't remember what was said or what I thought at the time.  We met at the baseball field at Franklin  and we stayed to see my friend, Elaine's son, play baseball.  It was a reminder of such a happy time of our lives when our life seemed to revolve around baseball fun.  I love that game!  It was a beautiful evening, warm and sunny and I just did not want to leave. I see myself in my memory walking in slow motion to my car.  We knew that when we went home, we had to tell the boys the news and that somehow made it so final, so real and so very, very hard.