Losing your identity

Just a little thought in the same vein as this post, from Oh the life of a pilot's wife.

On the day my husband's airline went bust, he went to their crew room to find out any information he could about his rights, what he should do next, etc. But instead of finding any other employees there, he simply found a room stripped bare, a bouncer and somebody from the receivers.

The receiver told him he wouldn't see any of the money the company owed him, but was vaguely sympathetic. The bouncer, however, was another story. He just looked at my husband and said "I'll be needing your airside pass now, sir". He just took it, and pretty much frogmarched my husband off the premises, like he was some sort of security risk, not somebody whose company went bust through no fault of his own.

My husband's very quiet about it, but I'm sure that the loss of his airport ID pass - something he'd worked towards all his training, something that I'm sure he wore with pride - hit him right where it hurts. Add to that the piles of un-ironed work shirts which neither of us know what to do with, his jacket, which we're hidden down the side of the wardrobe, and his old hat which is now gathering dust on the top of the book case, and what do you get? Reminders of something you wanted so badly, and worked so hard for, and had taken away overnight.

Having said that, I truly believe this is just a temporary blip, and it won't be long before he pulls another pass over his head, irons a different-emblemed shirt and bemoans the look of another new hat. I'd just give anything to know when and where this will be, as it's this uncertainty that grates the most. Please, God, just show us the way...

On another topic, dear readers - thanks so much for all the comments you've been leaving. It does make a difference to know people are thinking of us. The online blogging community is really a very lovely thing.