Not the Mob

I’ve joined the family business. A mild form of nepotism and certainly not harmful; it turns out to be less exciting than Italian-style family ventures, but still important and I’m learning a lot.

I always wondered about those kids who work in their parents’ teriyaki shops all weekend – are they bitter? Now I'm starting to understand. There’s this sense that even if my tasks were to seem inherently directionless or without a greater significance, there's an underlying motivation because each moment of work offers a payback to me. That sounds selfish, doesn’t it? It’s not about helping my dad make money so he can treat me to Starbucks more often. He would do that anyway. It's about true fulfillment found in assisting someone I love and knowing that even if his company doesn’t make it in the long run, my labor was not in vain. I am storing up treasures where they last – in heaven, or in his heart. My presence is a support and encouragement to him. This deeper meaning makes the mundane manageable.

Glad it’s this way:

• Grandma’s homemade cookies
• Breaks for piano playing
• Daily “corporate meetings” which usually consist of me throwing down the hammer and earning in response my dad’s amused smile
• Suddenly, I’m in sales. And I don’t feel too dirty about it!
• Unexpected excitement about a generator
• I can fancy myself either Pam from The Office or a kid at a teriyaki shop.

Wish it wasn’t but it is:

• A concern for my dad that makes it hard for me to emotionally disconnect from his stress