New Course
Yesterday, as I was mowing the yard, I drove right into my old life. It happened when I turned the corner and approached the steps off the south porch. It was where my wife would stand and watch me mow, smiling usually. For the briefest moment, last weekend’s events were last weekend’s events, and we were getting on with our business, and when I finished mowing, I’d go inside, and we’d talk about tomorrow and have lunch. A bonded pair of humans, absorbed in our journey.
But it was only an interlude and it ended, as it should. Half the partnership is gone. I was oddly comforted, however, by the feeling’s solidity. There was clarity to it. I could see the before and I could see the now. I understood how they differed and why I feel so disconnected these days. I’m missing half my internal guidance system. As a bonded pair, we did things together. The course was set by mutual agreement. And there was pleasure in the doing and surrendering. Some things were more important to one than the other. She loved DAR; I liked sports. I attended a few luncheons, she attended a few games. We surrendered part of ourselves for the other, and it was fun doing it.
I believe this is the point, however, where us becoming me starts. Sounds a little self-centered, but, hey, that’s mostly what there is these days. Me. Of course, there are other people, and some are close and some aren’t, but no one is responsible for me, they’ve got their own lives to live. This is where charting the single course starts. It will be a little difficult. After all, it’s been more than 50 years since I was single. But I did it then, and I can do it now. Besides, I really did pay attention when she talked, and I remember a lot of what she taught me.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale