Hindsight Shows There's a Plan

My grandma struggled with depression so much that she created what she called her "happiness file." It's basically a recipe box filled with little notes that reminded her to be grateful. I don't think she expected anyone to ever read the notes, but now that she's no longer here and I'm fighting cancer, her words have become like a lifeline from Heaven.

The other day, I opened her happiness file and read words she'd written on an index card: “Hindsight shows G-d's plan.” This felt ironic since I'd recently been thinking about an experience that proved this exact notion.

At one point, before moving to Idaho, I had a really terrible job where my boss was having a blatant affair. (I honestly shouldn't judge because no one is perfect—especially me. But, despite that, this situation made me feel physically sick and became too much, almost all encompassing...) Many of the other employees could turn a blind eye, but I just could not look past it. In fact, I became so negative that I'd come home and repeatedly tell my family about it. "Their spouse comes into the office, and I can't stand knowing what's going on behind their back. It breaks my heart. It really does."

"Elisa, this is all you've talked about for the last few weeks. What are you gonna DO about it?" Mike asked.

As the truth of this sunk in, I felt extremely embarrassed that I'd let the situation consume my life. “Well, it's already been reported by another employee,” I finally responded, “and administration isn't doing anything." 

So, I ended up requesting to move to another department, but on my last day—before making my transfer—something unfortunate happened. My boss got flowers from her husband and, sounding proud, asked me, "What does the card say?" She’d asked this from the other side of the office, obviously expecting his greeting to be sweet, per usual.

"Oh," I gasped after reading the card silently. "I don't think I should read this out loud." Other employees and even customers stood nearby and turned to watch this interaction.

“Elisa!” Her voice grew cold, and she appeared visibly agitated. Everyone knew not to disagree with her because she was sleeping with HER boss. And crossing her meant crossing him. “Just. Read. It!"

“Okay.” Everyone continued staring curiously, so I took a deep breath and finally whispered. "It says, 'I know… about the affair.'"

Time passed and even though I'd transferred to a completely different department, my previous boss had it out for me. She'd report me to HR, saying my clothes weren't appropriate or my hair wasn't "natural looking."

An HR employee finally grew frustrated and said, “There’s nothing wrong with your clothes or hair, and frankly, I’m getting tired of these allegations because they’re wasting my time. She even checks to see when you’re parking in the morning to make sure you’re on time. That’s what the time clocks are for!”

Eventually, the HR manager called both of us in and gave her a warning: “You're spending so much time following Elisa that you're neglecting your own duties."

Anyway, looking back at that horrendous work experience, I remembered something surprising—an incredibly good thing that happened!

Basically, each time I'd get called in to the HR office, I'd walk by a receptionist who always seemed sad. She was so kind to everyone and such a hard worker, but I couldn’t imagine what made her so dismal-looking. It didn’t take long to hear her story: Her ex-husband had used his money to hire a fancy lawyer. And even though she was an amazing mom, he told lies, took the kids away, and completely broke her heart. I couldn't fathom how she felt, so I did the only thing I could; I started anonymously leaving notes on her desk whenever I got called in. The notes would be simple: "You Matter." "Have a nice day." "You're a hard worker." "You make a difference."

Although seemingly inconsequential, this gave me a purpose—a distraction—and transformed the negativity of visiting HR into something positive.

Anyway, after being diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma in 2020 and announcing on Facebook that doctors only gave me two years to live, I got a message from the receptionist I’d known so many years before.

"Elisa, I just wanted you to know… I had thought about ending my life. That's around the time I started getting those notes on my desk. I didn't even know where they were coming from or who would leave them, but then I found out it was you. Those words saved my life. I have my kids back now. I have custody. My life, well, it's all different from where it was. I'm really glad I didn't commit suicide. I needed you to know that you changed my life."

I cried after reading her message. Those notes were so simple—a good distraction for me. But to have something so easily done change her life, well, that meant everything.

That’s what I contemplated when I read my grandma's words. I think she was right; maybe hindsight does show that G-d has a plan. So many things had to go “wrong” for them to go right. I thought that was a hard time in my career, but if all those moments culminated into something that even minutely helped that woman… then I'm grateful everything panned out the way it did.

No matter what hardships you’re experiencing today, please don’t forget how quickly life can change. You never know what miracles might be right around the corner. Life is so beautiful from the outside looking in. 

A picture of me holding my grandma’s happiness file 🥰