Calm reached in the chaos of traffic.

I visited my former workplace last week and met with coworkers for lunch.

Jimmy told me not to go, and I was pretty sure he was right, but I was invited to lunch and am too nice to say no.

Jimmy was trying to protect my heart because he worried that I would become emotional.  He's not that off base...  He worried that if I found out the the organization was flourishing, I would feel like a failure because my replacement is better than me, therefore, I'm a loser.  If I were to hear that organization was failing, I'd regret leaving and worry that the children the organization fights for were suffering in my absence.

I was nervous to meet the girls.  Will I feel like a fool when I talk about playdates and poop schedules?  Will my heart break as they romanticize about their successes in my absence?  

It didn't play out the way I thought.  As I drove towards Capitol Hill (at 10:30 a.m., mind you), I hit traffic.  I became frustrated.  I started driving like an ass. And then all of the sudden amidst all the chaos and exhaust, I relaxed.

I became very thankful for the traffic. The stop. The go. The orange cones. The honks. The traffic lights. The jerks.

The traffic made me reflect on how much this drive, that organization, and working for a paycheck affected my family.

Only moments after having painful butterflies, my stomach was as calm as if I were on a trip to the post office.  I held my head high, confident in the choice we made as a family, and eager to show them my kids' latest tricks and the happiness in my soul, thanks to my job as a mom.

And you know what?  I truly enjoyed lunch... especially their success stories.