Two weeks before Christmas...

My life is in upheaval.

Ironically, I just looked up "upheaval" to ensure I spelled it correctly and it's also a geological term... fitting as this devastating turn of life events is rooted in the earth.

Within less than a week, my husband has lost his job and his boss (and friend) committed suicide. I can barely write those words... committed suicide. The pit in my stomach gets deeper with every thought.

Forgive me friends and family for not telling you about this sooner. We all have been in a state of shock. John and I had decided not to tell anyone about the job situation (he was technically laid-off) until we either A) had found another job/source of income or B) took unemployment until he returned to his former job after oil prices recover. The latter looks more than impossible at this point. That and I'm not so great talking about it on the phone. So, forgive me.

Kean's death has been all over the news here. John has been fielding countless phone calls....

Let me start at the beginning...

Crude oil prices are earth-shatteringly low. No one, not even the most conservative of bankers, ever thought oil would dip below $60/$50 a barrel. (We are now facing $30 per barrel.) This may seem flippin' fantastic to your average consumer driving his/her big ol' SUV. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, by any means... you go girl.) But when your husband's new job - the job that afforded you health insurance, a new house, and the ability to purchase new clothes for your baby - that job - when it hinges on the price of crude oil, the giddy smile on the face of the dude who hops out of his F150 at the gas station doesn't feel so great.

At first, I didn't understand. I, too, was delighted that with my fuelperks! from Giant Eagle I could fill up my tank with the $2.00 in change in my car. I was overjoyed that my family could now live in a house with heat in the bedrooms.

Then John sat down to explain what all of those guys in suits on TV were so interested in... why oil was so important... to us.

Then I learned more about the bailout. The first bailout. The banks aren't using the money to help small or even large businesses... they're not lending. Nope, they are buying up other small banks. This tactic doesn't help the economy. This tactic doesn't help out a business started in the late 80s, started right here in "small town America." A business that employs some 150 people. One hundred and fifty people with families....

Some cynics may say that the "dirty, rich oil companies" are getting what they deserve. But what about the countless small oil and gas companies out there. They do exsist. I know of... knew of one personally.

I knew the owner. He was a guy who liked to provide for his community. Sure, he wasn't perfect. He told my husband that he worked too much and lost his family early on. He cautioned my husband against it. (I know I have nothing to worry about in that regard. Thank you, sweetie!) That man, the owner of a company that provided for so many, was also looking into alternative fuels and eco-property development. He volunteered with the United Way. He worked to improve his Alma Mater, my Alma Mater.

And best of all... at least for my family... he gave my husband a job that he liked and a boss to get him motivated. A boss that I think my husband considered a friend.

Oh, I hadn't intended for things to go that way... I must regroup.

.....With the economy in the toilet, John and I had discussed our future. We thought we were safe. At least for a year. He had a contract. We had time to wade through all of this...

Then John started telling me that things were a bit more stressed at work. There was talk of lay-offs: the drillers, etc.. you know, the ones in the field.

Then the company had a meeting - everyone at 7:30 a.m. Good News and Bad News... Good News: no one was getting laid off! Bad News: No Christmas party, no Christmas bonuses. Ok, ok... we can all take one for the team. That's fine. And everyone was assured bonuses would be recovered later next year - maybe by Spring.

Exactly one week later, Monday. I had just returned home from the grocery store. John was already home. Odd, but nothing too strange - he had gone in early. On the kitchen counter lay a stack of money. "Oooh a stack of cash!" I exclaimed as I brought the baby in.... I continued to get a glass of water.... la, la, la....

"Aren't you going to ask me why there's a stack of cash on the counter?"
At this point a multitude of hooker jokes ran through my head...."Ok, why is there a stack of cash on the counter?"
He proceeded to tell me that it was every last bit money he could scrape and scour to find - hidden in drawers at his office, in his car... his Christmas gift stash. Everything. "Because I got fired today," he said with a reluctant smile.

I was in shock. Almost like I didn't hear it. But he was smiling....

He'd gotten the word first thing that morning. Two weeks before Christmas. And he was smiling. He seemed ok. (He'd been processing this all day and had already started to set up job interviews AND a system to get our old house rented. He was positive.) I cracked and cried, but just a few tears. Most of my friends and family would think I'd loose it. I probably could have, but didn't.

Now, it just hits me at the strangest times... especially since I couldn't really talk to anyone about it. We said we didn't want to worry our families, our friends. And I sure as hell didn't want any "I told you so's." So we decided not to tell anybody until we had a plan.

John returned to "work" the next morning. He wore a suit and tie and had a meeting about another job, looked into getting the house rented... and then back to the office. Yep, he went back and said he was in it for the long haul. He'd work for free. Truthfully I have no idea how we could do this, but I trusted him. And it seemed the right thing to do.

Tuesday, he "worked." We thought he might be able to stay on at a lower salary and when things got back up and running normally, we'd be set.

Wednesday morning we all slept in (even Zoey), just a wee bit, but every bit is sleep. :) John got a call from a guy at work. Kean was dead.

No one was sure what or how it happened. I tell you, both John and I had hoped it had been a heart attack. He had high blood pressure; he was stressed... He had three kids.

He had three kids.

John immediatley went back to the office - to work, to console, to do something, to do anything but sit by. No one knew anything there. Three people from the office had gone to his house to find him. They weren't sure what they would find. But they knew when he wasn't at work by 8 a.m. (he'd been getting there at 6 or so) and he wasn't answering his phone, something was wrong.

I don't even want to think what they found. It's too hard.

What-if scenarios have been running through my head every day since. WHY?! The local news reported the tragedy. The phone calls started flooding in.... Mostly for John obviously. Two for me. Thank you. I hope I was ok on the phone. I don't even remember what I said.

"It's only money."

Yes, it's only money. I know that and you know that. I know people who have been through similar business collapses and they kept moving. What made this different outcome happen?!

...He'd had dinner with his kids the night before he was found. What must that have been like? I can't bring myself to think about it.

It all seems surreal. Like tomorrow this will have all been a dream or a joke or an elaborate scheme to get out of trouble... if only...

It makes loosing your job seem trivial. Perhaps that is why this has all happened.

I have my family. I have my friends. I have a new lust for life! Hug your babies. Kiss your mates. Smile at each new snowflake falling. We, Millers aren't quite sure what the next step will be. But we will be taking it together.