The World Changed and So Did I
Navigating personal loss at work is tricky. As we get older, we lose more, and we have more to lose.
When the world ended in March 2020, I felt like the train I was on suddenly derailed onto another set of tracks. One we couldn’t go back to. A trajectory that was drastically different from the one before.
My wife was seven months pregnant, our four-year-old was home, and everything we knew about work collapsed overnight. I had spent years building contingencies for customers and mapping risk scenarios, but in those moments, I had no answers. We lived day to day, sometimes hour by hour.
We feared for our families, our loved ones. The ones most vulnerable.
When my parents finally got vaccinated in early 2021, I exhaled for the first time in a year. But the relief didn’t last.
Losing My Parents in the Same Year
In mid-April 2021, my mother was diagnosed with Stage 3 pancreatic cancer. She died six weeks later on May 30.
My father, already battling advanced dementia, passed away seven months after her in January 2022.
Those seven months aged me a decade.
There’s no manual for navigating that kind of grief while leading teams, joining Zoom calls, and trying to be a steady presence for your family. The world had already been off its axis and now, mine was too.
“I think I realized that life is too short to be miserable in a job.”
What Loss Taught Me About Work
If I learned anything from that period, it’s that grief doesn’t fit neatly into a timeline.
You don’t “move on.” You move forward.
Even now, four and a half years later, I’m still rebuilding professionally and personally. But I keep climbing.
Resilience became my mantra. Not the kind that looks pretty on a motivational poster, but the kind that’s born out of necessity. The kind that says: I can’t stop. Even when it hurts.
How I Learned to Keep Going
Here’s what I’ve come to believe since then:
- Life is too short to stay miserable in a job. Don’t waste your one shot at this life being stuck somewhere that drains you. Do not work for or with someone you don’t trust, someone who is miserable or toxic, or someone who is just a terrible person. It is just not worth it.
- Grief lingers. It’s a quiet weight that you carry into meetings, projects, and milestones.
- Forward motion matters. Even small steps count. Even crawling counts.
- Leadership isn’t immunity. You don’t have to have it all together to lead. Vulnerability builds trust more than perfection ever will.
“You still climb, even when you’ve been knocked down the steps.”
For Anyone Navigating Loss While Working
You’re not alone. You don’t have to pretend you’re fine. Keep showing up. Not flawlessly, not fearlessly, just honestly.
Because when you lead through pain, something shifts. You become more human. Your team sees you. Your customers feel it.
Loss changes you, but it doesn’t define you. It deepens you.
And that depth, that empathy, that honesty, might just make you a better leader.
Keep climbing.
Even when it hurts.
For those who know me, I’ve put this on my wall in 2020.
At the time, I didn’t know I was going to lose both my parents less than a year later. It just seemed inspirational, and made me think of one of my favorite scenes in the entire Rocky Saga. He’s talking to his son about the strength to keep pushing forward and never give up.
Those that remain resilient, and keep going, live the most fulfilling, most successful life.
I look at this each day as I work, or leave my house. I have to walk past this sign when I enter and leave my house. It keeps me going, and it keeps me on the path I desperately work to stay on.
“You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain’t about how hard ya hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!” ― Sylvester Stallone, Rocky Balboa
Robert Statsky 