Unspoken ..unshared emotions - Part 3

There is another layer to this story that perhaps makes the emotions even more complicated. This company was not merely a workplace for me. It became part of our family's story.

Years ago, when B lost his job in PDO, it was a big thing...life suddenly looked very different for us. He was at Group 3 and the highest level, doing well. Realistically, very few organisations could offer anything close to what he had been earning. For four months, we lived on a single salary. 

We managed. We survived. God provided. But it was not easy. There were bills to think about, children to care for, responsibilities that did not pause simply because circumstances had changed.Like many families facing uncertainty, we adjusted, prioritised, and kept moving forward.

 I remember quietly wishing for a little more. Not out of greed. Not because I felt entitled to it. Just enough to ease some of the pressure. Just enough to help carry a few more bills. Yet I never voiced those thoughts. Perhaps because I was grateful. Perhaps because I did not want my relationship with people to become about money. Perhaps because I believed that if God wanted something to change, He would make a way. So the thoughts remained exactly that, thoughts. I would occasionally think about other ways to earn. Other possibilities. Other opportunities. But those thoughts rarely moved beyond the planning stage. Life was already demanding enough. And so I carried on.

One of the greatest blessings during that season (season of shift) was that my family was able to remain together in Oman. Because of the goodwill shown to me here, B was able to join as a dependent under my visa. My children were given visas too. What could have been a season of separation became a season where we remained together. That is not something I will ever forget.

When I look back over the years, I see more than employment. I see kindness. I see opportunities. I see people who extended grace and support in ways that impacted not just me, but my entire family. For that, I will always be grateful. Deeply grateful.

Eventually, he accepted a position in Iraq, and we found ourselves navigating a season of uncertainty that none of us had anticipated. Still about only 75% or what PDO was to him, but he left for Iraq, life looked very different for us. There were uncertainties, practical challenges, and many decisions that had to be made. 

What surprised me was not the financial pressure. It was the emotion I felt when I heard about others progress in life and families reuniting. Every now and then, something inside me would ache. Not because I wished them badly. Not because I believed they did not deserve it. But because a small voice inside me would whisper "What about me?" It is not a thought I am proud of. Yet it was real.

And if this reflection is to be honest, then it deserves a place here. Over time, I came to realise that the feeling was not jealousy. It was simply the pain of being human. The pain of carrying needs quietly. The pain of choosing not to ask. The pain of hoping someone might notice without being told. And perhaps that is why I never allowed those feelings to grow into resentment. Because every time they appeared, they were met by another truth.

This company had given my family stability during difficult years. The truth that kindness had been extended to us in ways that could never be measured by a salary figure. The truth that people had helped carry us through seasons when life could have looked very different. So while disappointment occasionally knocked on the door of my heart, gratitude always remained inside the house. That does not mean I never felt hurt. It simply means I chose not to let hurt become bitterness.

And there is a difference.Pain does not mean resentment. Sadness does not mean bitterness. Missing something does not mean disagreeing with it. I do not carry anger towards anyone. I do not resent decisions that have been made.People are entitled to their opinions, their perspectives, and their responsibilities. Leaders make decisions based on information and considerations that may never be fully visible to everyone else. That is life.

The older I become, the more I realise that life is rarely divided into heroes and villains, right and wrong, good and bad. More often, it is simply people doing the best they can with what they know. And sometimes those decisions still hurt. Not because they are malicious. Not because they are unfair. But because every decision involves people, and people have hearts. I can be thankful and still feel loss. I can understand a decision and still grieve what it changes. I can wish everyone well and still miss what once was. Those things can exist together.

In fact, perhaps that is one of the signs of maturity to hold gratitude and grief in the same hand without allowing either one to diminish the other. So when I look back over these years, what remains strongest is not disappointment. It is gratitude. Gratitude for a family that showed kindness. Gratitude for a workplace that became part of my life's journey. Gratitude for relationships that grew unexpectedly over the years. And gratitude for the reminder that while seasons change, the good people who walk through them with us leave footprints that remain long after the season has passed.

Perhaps that is why I can write these words with honesty and peace.

The gratitude is real.The grief is real. And somehow, both have shaped the person I have become. ❤️