Built By Sacrifice

It’s 2:03 a.m. Saturday morning and he’s just finished cleaning up after the day's events.  Everyone went to sleep around midnight or so.

Night work doesn’t end on the weekends it seems.  You can’t just switch over back to days for Saturday and Sunday, then flip your body back for Monday’s overnight paving shift.

I mean, you can – but it’s pretty rough on you.

As he dries and puts away the last dish, he peeks in on the little ones asleep. His baby girl is sleeping soundly, half out of the covers. His youngest boy is cuddled up to the dog, his head resting squarely on her neck. The ole gal looks up as if to let him know how much she enjoys it too, and lets out a sigh before closing her eyes again.

It’s been just over a year now since the separation and impending divorce. He’s in a much better place than he was six months ago, for sure. Like many of the men around him, he tried to drown his sorrow for a time – but as he’d heard time and time again from the old timers on the crew, the answers aren’t at the bottom of a bottle. They knew. Hell, they’d been there.

He ponders how common his story is: He was never home. He worked all the time – long stretches of 10- to 14-hour shifts, many of them overnight. Whether he was grinding down old asphalt, flagging traffic at 2 a.m., or making the final pass with the CAT paver before daybreak, he was out there. Facing the elements. Laboring day in and day out. Breaking down his body. Stacking callus upon callus on his palms. Not even noticing new scrapes until the water hit and stung.

He gave his all to provide a life for those he loved –  a life better than the one he’d known growing up.

He’d given her all the creaturely comforts she desired. Financed her hopes and dreams. Whatever she wanted, he was happy to oblige.  He was proud to be able to.

But alas, when it was all said and done, he was told he had neglected what was important. While he had certainly provided well financially – giving them all the comforts they desired, taking trips to new places, financing the stacks of presents under the tree each year – it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t until it was too late that he even considered it.

It’s what he had seen his father do, and his grandfather before him. All the men around him coming up in the trades. They worked. Hard. Kept a roof over their families’ heads, food on the table and kept the lights on – no matter what it took.

Never in a million years would he have thought that all that he’d done wouldn’t be enough. Apparently, it wasn’t just not enough — it was so far from enough that some of them don’t even speak to him anymore.

Again, he thinks about how many of the men he’s worked beside share his story.  In conversations during breaks or after shifts, he’s heard the very same exchanges between ex-spouses relayed. He supposes there’s some comfort in that. He certainly isn’t the only man to have ever felt that defeat when he thought he was doing everything he was supposed to do.  Not by a long stretch. In fact, the opposing story –  a life of decades together and happily ever after – is becoming a tale rarely told.

For many in the trades, this story is all too familiar. Providing for your family at the cost of time with them. It’s a quiet crisis in our industry.

Time to try and force himself to sleep. The kiddos certainly aren’t on the night shift.

 

Welcome to “Onsite,” a fresh perspective brought to you by contributing writer Matt Ohley, general superintendent at Ajax Paving Industries, Tampa Division. In this column, Ohley cuts through the noise and delves into the challenges encountered by those shaping our world through construction. Ohley offers a unique perspective, amplifying the voices of those who experience the daily pulse of life on the jobsite.

Onsite is our commitment to breaking down the barriers and misconceptions that shroud the construction profession. Ohley aims to initiate open and honest conversations, from job insecurity to the transient nature of projects, physical strain and often-overlooked mental health struggles.