She stood afar but front and center. She had a few words to say, and she damn deserved them, too. Always has been the first one in and the last one out. But you couldn’t tell from the way she spoke. She always made sure she praised the team and singled individuals out whenever she can. She did with me once, for about five minutes on a monthly call that lasts an hour. But she could have very well done the same for any of the 70 employees and could have said something very concrete and profound about each one of us. She wasn’t watching and analyzing our every move. But she made sure you knew that you were very important to the company. And to her.
She says she’s not really into making speeches. But she didn’t need to make any, she simply needed to do what she does best. She spoke with the contagious passion that quickly engulfed the silent room. It’s been a long time coming, for this company to get this far. And she believed, more than anyone else, that this will work. There were doubters, and for good reasons, too. But if she weren’t here, we wouldn’t be here. And like a proud mother of an infant still learning to walk, she knows we will continue to grow in knowledge and strength until one day, we will unfurl our wings and soar. Tears are streaming down her cheeks now, ever so slight at first, but with nary a hint or veneer of vindication.
She carefully makes her rounds, making sure everyone is having a good time. It’s a great celebration, marking a moment when all of us will finally be brought together. And as she prepares herself for the oncoming battle, she provides each of us the inspiration to carry on. She will be the first one out of the trenches, and we will follow her every footstep. She will not rest until the battle is won. We don’t simply believe this anymore. We now know. We’ve seen it too often before, in the darkness of the sweat and toil that the unforeseen consequences inevitably bring, when she finally rejoins us in the trenches. We would have been resting precariously; she restless yet again not to put us in harm’s way, but to have all of us realize the collective potential of our imaginations.
A gentle hand on my shoulder and a soft peck on my cheek. “You’re the man, Elliott.” She has more important people to talk to now. But a simple reminder, to keep me going when times are rough. She won’t ever turn her back on us. She’ll continue to lead us from the front and guide us from afar.
All that she asks now is that we realize that our potential has always been greater than what we believed it to be.