Rosso

My last job was an Operations Manager for an industrial supply company. I was there for three years and absolutely fell in love with it. There isn’t much about me that says “warehouse”, but leading that team and that market was easily the most fun and fulfilling time I’ve ever had in 16 years as a people leader. It absolutely broke my heart to leave and there are days even now, almost two years later, that I tear up about it.

The job was fun, but the people were the freakin’ BEST. And the first person who took me under his wing was a 50-something year old fellow who’d been there for 16 years, had a huge walrus mustache and loved heavy metal music. His name was Ross and when we first met I thought to myself, “It’s gonna take a while to win this one over.” But I couldn’t have been more wrong about him – Ross was proud of his tenure, proud of his knowledge and proud of being asked to teach the new boss. He was a bear of a man who cried when he spoke about his grandkids, who hollered at anyone that wasn’t working safely, who struggled with COPD and worked as hard as his body would let him even when he was exhausted and who would absolutely call you on your bullshit. He hugged me almost every day and when I told the team I was leaving, he cried along with me and told me he loved me.

Ross retired on November 15 of this year after 20 years on the job. I spoke with him that evening and we talked about his plans (mostly to rest and be with his beloved wife), the things he’d miss (the people of course – me too) and the things he wouldn’t miss, like pushing a flat of freight or working so hard to breathe. He was excited. And then he passed away two days later.

Life can be such a dirty fighter.

The funeral was today. I’ve planned on going all month, but somehow got my schedules mixed up and discovered that I’d gotten the time wrong and missed it. I’m heartbroken all over again. I can’t believe I got so wrapped up in pageants and baking and kids and life that I messed this up. I wanted so badly to hug Ross’s wife, to see my old team, to feel a part of them again.

I will say that the beauty of living out loud the way I choose to is that I don’t ever worry if the people I love are unaware of how much they mean to me. I tell them too often for that to happen. I told Ross I loved him in our final conversation and he knew that was true. So I know he would cut me more slack than anyone about getting things mixed up today. Rosso would tell me to stop beating myself up and that I’ve taken on too much. He’d tell me to kiss those babies for him. He’d tell me he loved me, too.

I miss you buddy. I hope wherever you are has lots of Metallica and whiskey.