I Fish and Job Hunt
My father was laid off or let go so many times I’ve lost count. But it was never because he didn’t try. Circa 1980.
For starters, my Father suffered mentally but you didn't say that back then. I remember waking up to the sound of scissors at 4am — him cutting job listings from the newspaper and pasting them like clippings of hope into a ledger. By 8am, he was on the phone calling the morning’s cold leads.
By 1pm, he’d tell me, “Connections are how you get a job,” and head out to have his typed résumé mimeographed a hundred times. He even made business cards that said, where a title should go: “At your service.” That line made my mother and me cry — not out of pity, but pride. His faith in work never wavered. He sold paper and custom printing, even when we couldn’t pay for our own house. And every time, he’d say, “Next month is blessings month.”
I feel him with me these days when I’m up at 4am, applying to cold leads with 164 other applicants on a four-day-old post.
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He got jobs by knocking on doors. I send messages to hiring managers that go unanswered. The world has changed — maybe it’s apathy, fatigue, or just too much noise. And maybe my enthusiasm scares people now, especially when interviewers won’t even turn on their cameras.
Still, I’m here — ten hours a day, five days a week, learning, applying, and reinventing. I’m upskilling in what they call “minimum requirements” for roles that barely existed a year ago. Trying to stay ahead of change that moves faster than most can define.
Here’s to persistence, to optimism — and to the belief that maybe, just maybe, next month is blessings month.
— For anyone out there still pushing through the silence: keep cutting, keep calling, keep believing.
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Right now I feel complelled to add to this story that my Father was not Superman. One night it was 8pm. Long past when he normally returned from the job hunt, all on foot. My Mother put me in the car and we went looking for him. He was a bit agoraphobic but she found him in the window of Shoney's. I could see he had his tie off but his top button still buttoned. He was sitting alone in a booth. He only ate in booths. No one was sitting anywhere near him. He had his head down on his hand, shfuffling the last few bites of a choc sundae. My Mother went in to sit with him for a minute. He was crying she said when she returned and said "sometimes people need a break and sometimes, they even break apart. It's okay. Let's go back and finish dinner. He will be home soon." Just to add, I never knew my father to have a friend. He was very private.
Your father’s resilience echoes through every line — and through you. That image of him clipping listings at 4am, declaring “Next month is blessings month,” is unforgettable. You’ve inherited his grit, but you’ve also added your own wisdom, emotional intelligence, and adaptability to a world that’s changed dramatically. This post isn’t just a tribute — it’s a lifeline for anyone feeling invisible in the job search. You’ve named the silence, the fatigue, the reinvention — and still, you choose hope. That’s leadership. Here’s to the quiet fighters. To the ones who keep showing up. To the belief that blessings don’t just arrive — they’re built, one early morning at a time.