My dad had been sounding different on the phone. I wasn’t quite sure what it was but something felt off the last couple of times we talked on the phone. Living in different countries meant that I had little more than the tone of his voice to rely on. Still, that day was the day I was going to ask him what was going on. It was not necessary.

He broke the news: my mom had been admitted to the Emergencies with what ended up being tumours in her neck. She had cancer. I was floored and had no idea what to say. I said nothing, I guess, and went to a quiet room in the office and started crying. But a few minutes in and I couldn’t cry anymore. It was like watching a movie: I felt moved for a moment, watching a certain scene, but now I was ready to move on. Still, there were arrangements to make, and I had to go to Lisbon to see her.

I went to my manager’s office; he was visibly occupied but looking at my face was enough to make time for me and listen. Except that I couldn’t talk. I had the words on my mind, I could hear what my dad said. Still, I would open my mouth and nothing would come out. It felt as if it wasn’t real until I said out loud. For now, it was like watching a movie. Saying the words would bring it to reality.

My manager, trying hard to help, had the brilliant idea of giving me a paper and a pen to write it down. I picked a pencil, instead – it was less permanent – and wrote the words: “my mother has cancer”.

The swift action

He took a second before responding. A moment of silence to take it in and see what to tell me. I remember looking at him and somehow hoping he’d tell me he would fix it. After all, we always managed to find solutions together. But there was nothing that would bring air back into my lungs, not the same way anyway,

He told me to go home, to take my time and not worry about Google. My job would be right there waiting for me, whereas it was in a week, a month or a year. He then went on to say “I think I know you enough to believe you will want to work. If work would make you feel better and give you a chance to get some distance, go ahead. Otherwise, please know there’s absolutely no pressure to get any work done”.

I asked about Human Resources and processes but he told me not to think about it; he just needed to talk to his manager. And so I went home and waited. The next day I found his manager on the elevator, said hi and asked if my manager had already talked to him. He replied, “Aren’t you Inês, who is having a family issue?” I said I was. “What are you still doing here? Go home.” I asked again about permissions and so on to which he said they would handle everything for me.

My manager, trying hard to help, had the brilliant idea of giving me a paper and a pen to write it down. I picked a pencil, instead – it was less permanent – and wrote the words: “my mother has cancer”.

Enduring Reaction

Lesson Learnt

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