A Gift
The NCBA Professional Vitality Committee creates sourced articles centered on reducing inherent stress and enhancing vitality in the lives of legal professionals and offers those resources as a benefit for members of the North Carolina Bar Association.
I started a trial on Feb. 17, 2020, four weeks before the coronavirus covered the Earth and began to shut down our lives. Before that, there was a week of pre-trial motions. For five weeks – and really even before that – I had long days, followed by late nights and early mornings. I was living week to week, and more often, day to day.
I try not to bring work stress home, but there was no hiding it. My wife Angie could see how worn down I was when I got home from court, knowing I still had several hours of work to get ready for the next day. Every night she would ask, “What can I do to help?” There was nothing she could do, but the thought was helpful in itself.
There have been three times in our marriage when she’s become so concerned about me that she called someone for help. The first time I was in Afghanistan at the height of the war there. The second time I was pinned down by a storm on a mountain running out of food. The third time was in the middle of this trial.
Our running joke became my answer to her question every night: What can I do to help?
“All I need is more time,” I’d tell her. “Can you find me more time?”
We both knew it was an impossible request, and that I had to do the best with what time I had – for my client, for my family, and for myself.
When the growing threat of the coronavirus put my trial on hold, my first reaction was disappointment. The jury had just come back for us on liability, and we were only a few days away from what I expected to be a significant verdict. I was disappointed.
Then I was a little scared. I had been keeping up with the news, but frankly not paying much attention to the growing threat. Once I was no longer in trial, I had time to understand how bad things were, and how bad they might become.
But once I came to terms with that, the disappointment and fear were pushed out by the realization I had been given an impossible gift: time.
Time to catch up on work. Time to catch up on sleep. But more importantly, time to catch up on life with my family.
Twenty years ago, I would have pushed myself to work through this just as hard as I had been working before – to prove to myself that I could work through this without missing a beat. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned between then and now, it’s that the work will always be there. Memories with the ones you love won’t.
For me, what I’ll remember most about the weeks and months after the coronavirus shut down what we once considered a normal life will be our family bike rides, long conversations with my 11-year-old son about his current obsession – all things Metallica, and converting Cowan family movie night from an occasional event into a nightly tradition. When we counted a few months in, we were up to almost two dozen classic movies from the ’80s and ’90s. So every time my son says,
“My amplifier goes to 11.”
“Stop calling me Shirley.”
“Looks like he picked a bad day to quit drinking.”
I’ll know I’m doing something right. And I’ll always remember this time.
It shouldn’t take a pandemic to remind you not to be consumed by work, and to prioritize spending time with the people you love. I’d like to think I already knew that. But I’m still thankful for the reminder.
A wise man once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop to take a look around once in a while, you might miss it.”
These are strange times, and no doubt the pandemic has brought hardship to many. But I’m thankful for the gift I was given: time to pause, take a look around, and enjoy life a bit . . . so that I don’t miss it.
The preceding article was researched, written and reviewed as part of the work of the NCBA Professional Vitality Committee (“PVC”). The lead author was Coleman Cowan of The Law Offices of James Scott Farrin, Raleigh, NC. Please direct comments and suggestions to Erna Womble, Committee Chair, and Holly Morris, Communities Manager. See more of the PVC’s Compendium of articles and blog posts online.