I hope none of you have to lose a parent prematurely (my Dad was 55), but the past several weeks have taught me a bit more about life and freelancing.
Saying no can save your sanity. I had a client email me with a new project a few days after my Dad died. Part of me said, "take the money, because it could be awhile before you feel like marketing again." The other part said, "you don't really want this project, and now you have a really good reason to say no." The latter part won. Losing Dad empowered me to be say no to projects I'm not excited about. Of course, most freelancers have to suck it up and take on high-paid, low-passion projects every once in awhile to beef up their bank accounts, but in this case, I'm glad I said no. Since I've been extra busy juggling funeral preparations and freelance work, I've also had to drop some of the less important day-to-day stuff. One of these days I need to get back to filing check stubs, but I've realized skipping a few or two of paperwork isn't the worst thing in the world.
What you don't say can speak louder than what you do. As the funeral home collected information to write my Dad's obituary, one of the issues that came up was how much information to offer about cause of death. Someone suggested that we omit that part altogether (MSA is not a pretty disease), but the funeral director pointed out that leaving it to the imagination might cause people to assume the worst. Copyediting the obit was not fun, but I felt we owed it to him to make sure that his legacy was free from comma splices or dangling modifiers.
It's OK to be human. I usually work well in advance, so when things slowed down a bit one of my steady clients emailed me to check in. I admit it: I fell a little behind schedule. I emailed him briefly explaining the situation and saying that I'd do my darndest to get caught up this week. He was fine with that, because the project wasn't pressing and I already had a good track record with him.
It's OK to accept help. If I took bereavement leave from an office job, then other people would be able to fill in some of the gaps. As a freelancer, I have less of a safety net (though fortunately I didn't have anything major that week). The first person I called after I got the news was a fellow writer who offered to take over any writing projects with impending deadlines. I didn't take her up on the offer, because I didn't think I'd need the help (plus, I'm a lousy delegator). But now I realize that it's OK to accept help. Should I ever need reinforcements in the future, I'll know who to call!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
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8 comments:
Susan, I feel for you. My mom was only 45 when she was killed by a drunk driver, so I'm one of the unfortunates who knows the pain you're going through. All of this is really good advice. When I lost my grandmother (my second mom) two years ago, I thought getting back into the grind as quickly as possible was the best thing for me. In retrospect, it probably wasn't. I got really testy with a few clients over minor things. I think I even lost an on-and-off one because of it. Allow yourself the time you need to grieve, and know that we're all praying for you!
I want to offer my heartfelt condolences on your loss. When my father died, at first I felt numb and confused this feeling with feeling fine. I believe you are taking the right course, to choose your freelance jobs carefully, to allow yourself space and time to grieve.
I'm so glad you've been able to work at your own pace and take time away from work as needed. Just let me know if I can help with anything!
Susan, like I said before, my dad passed away at an early age too. I know exactly what you are feeling.
I know it was hard doing the obit, but you will be thankful you did later. I was very hesitant being a paulbarrer, but am glad I got the opportunity now.
It is amazing what you can learn about life when one close to you ends. If you need anything, please don't hessitate to call on me. Take care and take all the time you need.
getting comments...
It was 14 years this week since my dad passed away, and it made me reflect on the same things as you mention here and the way I've carried myself both personally and professionally into adulthood. I've learned to take things as they come, to slow down, and to always, always take the time out to do the things you love and be with the those most important to you. I work to live, not live to work.
I just saw this today and wanted to let you know I am so sorry for your loss! A few years ago (before I started freelancing full-time) a very close friend of mine died. I couldn't imagine going back to work and acting as if everything was fine--and it's even tougher as a freelancer. Thanks so much for sharing what you've learned in this difficult time.
Thanks, everyone. I'm past the ticking time bomb stage where I would cry over the littlest thing and I'm glad to be surrounded by supportive people. It helps that I had some time prepare myself emotionally, because we've known this was coming for several years and I tried to spend as much time with him as I could. I'd imagine it would be harder to lose someone unexpectedly.
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