The most enduring things we take from a job aren’t things at all – they’re people.
There’s something about knowing – and being known by – many of the UPS drivers in my area.
Once I was having lunch with a friend at a sidewalk cafe. A brown truck drove past us; the driver, Stephen, saw me and waved. That felt really nice.
More than eighty days have passed since I left UPS. But it’s hard to leave behind the community I found there. Fortunately I don’t feel like I have to.
My post-UPS life regularly takes me away from my home and neighborhood, and I can’t help but come across brown trucks when I’m out running errands – or just plain running.
I give a friendly honk if I’m driving, a wave or salute if I’m on foot. Sometimes they register it, sometimes they don’t.
Sometimes, if I’m able, I stop and hand them a cold drink or leave one for them in their cab. If I catch the driver I say a few words of greeting before going on my way. I try to visit just long enough for them to feel seen, but not so long as to throw them out of their rhythm. So far this week it’s been Barry and Ray R. and Sean and Jason and Ray D.
These are habits I can’t shake free of. Even though I’m not a Teamster anymore, I feel like I’m still part of the ‘The Brotherhood.’
For more than five years, my brother and sister UPS drivers were the people who showed up for me when the going got tough. People in the proverbial trenches with me. And of course I showed up for them too.
And still am.
It’s not just chance encounters, though. I count many UPS drivers among my closest and dearest friends.
Through the years I’ve been welcomed into their homes and vacation properties, and I’ve hosted gatherings in my own home.
I’ve attended weddings; brought meals after babies were born; mourned with those who lost loved ones; helped them move; and celebrated life’s happier milestones together.
These are not the sort of folks you cut out of your life just because you stop working together.
Just this week alone, I’ve visited Jesse in the hospital and brought Mayghen lunch on route. I’ve been invited by Piotr and Sydney to charcuterie and board games, and by Shaun to another lunch this weekend.
It’s only after leaving that I’ve begun to notice what the job left with me.
For starters, it’s left me a whole constellation of former coworkers who remain in my life.
A constellation isn’t a crowd; it isn’t a list. It’s a pattern of individual points that, taken together, become something larger.
Since ancient times constellations have been helping people navigate.
Right now these relationships have become part of how I navigate my life after UPS.
