I didn't expect our first conference tour to end with me crying in the arms of a stranger.

We were supposed to be celebrating.

Instead, one teammate was at urgent care, another was in serious pain, and I felt powerless to help.

How did we get here?

We'd never done a booth before this year. So naturally, we decided to do two of the biggest accounting conferences - back to back.

AICPA Engage in Las Vegas, then Scaling New Heights in Orlando.

Two solid weeks on the road with Meryl, Ayana, and me.

We didn't know what to expect.

Would anyone stop at our booth? Would people care about what we’re doing? Would we make an embarrassing mistake? Would we get on each other's nerves?

As it turned out, we had nothing to worry about... yet.

The conversations were real, the interest was genuine, and by the time we landed in Orlando, we were locked in.

But what I'm taking away most has nothing to do with the conferences.

After two weeks together - every meal, every Uber ride, every long day on our feet - I wasn't tired of my teammates.

I felt even closer to them.

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The best laid plans

We had planned to celebrate that last evening in Orlando.

A nice dinner just for the three of us. I had a speech prepared about how wonderful this tour had been with them. (Yeah, I'm sappy like that.)

But then...

Meryl messaged that morning saying she wasn’t feeling well and would catch up later.

As the day went on, she got worse. It turned out to be a nasty stomach bug.

By the time the booth closed at one o'clock, she was in rough shape.

I ran upstairs with some medicine, and when she opened the door she said gruffly, "I don't think I can even keep that down. I need to go to urgent care."

Okay. Of course. Let's go.

What you need to know about Ayana

But before I tell you what happened, there's something you should know.

Ayana is my executive assistant. She joined the team just four months before we left on this trip.

Major conference planning isn't an EA's job.

Many companies have entire teams for this kind of thing. Ayana took it on in addition to her actual role.

She just jumped in and took over completely - design, printing, shipping, flights, hotels, everything.

The result? She crushed it.

Attendees complimented the booth. Industry friends praised our branding. People loved our outfits and custom shoes. Most importantly, there were no logistics problems, and nothing was forgotten.

For our first booth ever, that’s incredible.

If it had been left to me, there’s a decent chance the booth wouldn’t have made it to Orlando at all.

The thing I was trying to prevent

It started in Vegas.

By the second day I noticed Ayana shifting and stretching.

When I asked, she said her back hurt. Pretty quickly I realized it was bad.

I told her to sit down, to take breaks, to let Meryl and me handle the booth. She agreed, but then got right back up the moment attendees came by.

This went on for days, with her back getting worse. She told me that she'd dealt with back pain for most of her life.

By the end of Engage, she was in serious pain.

I asked her to take a morning off, tried to keep her seated, made sure she didn't take down and pack up the booth. When we left Vegas, I carried her bag through the airport.

In Orlando I told her explicitly, "when we take down the booth, you are not touching it. I've got it."

And for several days, she was doing better; more careful, staying seated. I thought we’d made it through.

There was just one problem

When I left for urgent care with Meryl, I told Ayana:

"Don't touch anything! I'll be back."

What I didn’t plan for was the exhibit hall emptying out around her. Everyone else was packing up. Event staff were moving through. Eventually, she was the last one there.

And the booth had to go.

So, she did what Ayana does.

She took it down and packed up herself.

I was in the exam room with Meryl and the doctor when this message came through:

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“No. Oh no no no no.” I texted back immediately, “are you okay?”

"I’ll soon tell you," she replied.

She had found someone to take the boxes to FedEx, but didn’t have cash to pay him. So I was coordinating payment options while listening to the doctor talk to an exhausted Meryl.

When Ayana finally told me how she was, she said, “my back is done.”

She went to lie down in her room, in extreme pain.

I texted, asking if she needed anything — food, medicine, anything I could do? Anything at all? She said there was nothing I could do.

After so many messages she finally asked me, "are you okay?"

The truth was I was not okay. Not at all.

The one thing I had spent two weeks making sure wouldn't happen - the one thing I had explicitly told her I would prevent - happened the moment I wasn't there.

With Meryl, I could take action. I could get her to a doctor. I could do something.

Ayana had built this whole tour. And the part I promised to handle was the part that hurt her.

I know I couldn't be in two places. I know I was needed at urgent care. But that didn't help how I felt.

Three Strangers

That evening, with both of them in their rooms and our celebration cancelled, I went down to the hotel bar.

As I ordered a drink, three women next to me were having the nerdiest accounting conversation imaginable.

Month-end close, reconciliations and workflows. They were really into it.

It made me smile, so I turned and said, "I love accountants. Thank you for spreading your joy."

They were puzzled and asked, "what do you mean?"

"I've had an awful day, and you made me smile." By then they could see my eyes welling up, and they asked what happened.

I told them the whole story, about feeling responsible and helpless.

They listened to me. They told me it wasn't my fault, and it would be okay. I wasn't so sure.

One of them, Justine, asked if I needed a hug.

"Yes, I do need a hug," barely getting the words out.

She took me in her arms and I fell apart - sobbing on the shoulder of a stranger in a hotel bar.

And she just held me.

That night I needed compassion, and three strangers gave it to me, freely, without hesitation, without knowing me at all.

This is why I love the accounting community.

And Justine, Renee, and Heather, if you somehow end up reading this, thank you, more than you know.

Home

The next morning we all flew home. At the airport we spent as much time together as we could.

After two weeks, I wanted to go home, but I didn't want to say goodbye.

Meryl had a long flight to Australia. She woke up feeling great, and hungry.

Until then, I'd never seen anyone have a violent stomach bug and eat a McMuffin the next morning.

As I write this, Ayana is still in a lot of pain. She’s taking it easy and doing what she needs to recover.

I'm alright. I had a rough weekend after coming home.

It turns out midlife has challenges, and I'm in the middle of some of them. Is that why I reacted so strongly that day?

I dunno.

But I do know this: when I needed grace, it came in abundance via three strangers.

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