More Than a Building

It's been loud in the office the last few days with sounds that signal our upcoming office move next week. The clacking of packing crates as they are hefted from the stacks in front of the reception desk. The thuds and clinks as people begin filling said crates with items from their desks. The multiple questions ringing through the air ... "Should I go ahead and pack this or will I need it this week?" ... "What if all my stuff won't fit into two crates?" ... "Will the movers take my trash can?" … "What about my chair?" … along with countless others. I've overheard people talk about how excited they are that we're moving to a new building in a new area of town, while I've overheard others speak of much-treasured memories and a distinct sadness about leaving.

The truth is that moving, whether it be from one home to another, one place of business to another or one geographical location to another, is most often both good and bad. Moving … really, change of any kind … can cause all sorts of conflicting feelings and emotions. One minute you're excited and the next you're overwhelmed with anxiety. You're happy and afraid, filled with anticipation and dreading what's to come, ready to embrace the next chapter and terrified that the past that made you who you are will be erased from memory … all jumbled together within the course of 60 seconds. I heard someone say yesterday that his heart had been up and down and all around this week, feeling much like his stomach does when he rides a roller coaster. I couldn't have said it better myself … so many emotions and so many memories with one pulsing mantra that refuses to leave … 

"This is more than a building to me."

From the early days of walking through the gutted, dust-filled empty shell of the building that eventually became the Kansas City home of Sullivan Higdon & Sink (oh, and by the way, we're now Signal Theory) to seeing everyone packing up their desks today, I can't help but acknowledge that I've lived a lot of life over the past 15 years within these brick and mortar walls nestled in the Crossroads District of KC. Many of the young people here have been asking me throughout the week about my memories of this place … perhaps because I'm one of the few people remaining who's been here since move-in day, or perhaps it's just because I'm older than dirt. I'd like to say it's their questions that ramped up my walk down 2000 Central memory lane over the last few days, but that just wouldn't be true. The truth is that I didn't need any help at all in getting me started on walking the path of remembering things that have occurred inside of these walls … the truth is I've been jumping on and off that path ever since the leaders of the company announced we were moving. Like I said … I've lived a lot of life over the past 15 years in this building … I've lived a whole, whole lot of life within these walls, friends.

When I first had the idea to write this post, I had a vague sketch in my mind of what I would write but my actual post is shaping up to be far removed from what I originally thought I would say. It seems fitting, though, that my direction shifted and my focus in this post changed so drastically … I've experienced a ton of life changes over the past 15 years, some of which played out right here in this building. Some of the biggest events in my life took place during the time I worked inside these walls, both happy and sad alike. Two of my three children were married. My sweet mom passed away. I welcomed a great gaggle of grandkids into my life. I came out to a senior vice president in a conference room. I found out I was diabetic and lost of ton of weight. I lost my little fat buddy J.R. and found my sweet Ollie boy. I met Nate Phelps and became the executive producer for the documentary "Not My Father's Child."  My eldest child became a Canadian and I overcame my fear of flying. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and planned to end my life. We filmed "Ears Wide Open?" and I got real in my blog. The historic line "It's time to walk the wiener!" was uttered for the first time. I embraced my love of bow ties. I learned the undeniable importance of forgiveness. I had a stroke that left me with a blind spot and an eye patch and earned me the title of "The Pirate Proofreader."

Sights and sounds of days gone by filled my mind as I walked the halls of this old building today. Lynell's whistling and him saying, "That's a great fire you've got going there, Miss Ter."  Rand's toilet costume and his phone call to me the morning after Mom died. Donna's patient instruction and faithful friendship. Joann and Ali being terrified of the birds that occasionally got into the building. JJ's flowers from his mom that arrived each year on his birthday. Impromptu lunches at Manny's with my kids. Making sugar cookies for parents to take home for their kids to decorate. Beer thirties in the kitchen and Stretch Your Stomach at Thanksgiving. Tear-filled goodbyes with friends who left for new jobs or retired. Introducing new employees to life at SHS. Listening to young people tell me their troubles and letting them quite literally cry on my shoulder. Shooting Nerf hoops at my desk with Henry and Janie. The first time I met Yosef and his man bun. Dirty Costco trips with Hilary. Being the office mom and the official baby whisperer. My beloved quote post. Cookouts in the parking lot and Talon trying his best to teach me how to tie a bow tie. White elephant parties, wedding showers, baby showers, new business wins, flooded entryways, broken ice machines and dishwashers, ice cold bathrooms, Ollie running like a wild thing down the main hallway. The main hallway … the fireplace … the conversations … the friendships … the love … the family … the memories. The oh so very sweet memories that will stay with me forever.

I haven't seen the new building yet, but I hear it's pretty awesome … it better be because it has some big shoes to fill, at least in the memory-making department anyway. Tomorrow is our last day at the old place, and I'm sure I'll shed more than a tear or two. I'm excited for what's ahead but I'm also sad to leave the old place behind. So cheers to you 2000 Central … you've been more than a building to me, old friend … so much more than a building indeed.