Recently I had lunch with an old friend whose dad passed away five years ago. His parents lived in a house in a small town in the Midwest for many years, and she is struggling with her “recovery”, her moving forward, after losing her long time soulmate…but interestingly enough, her struggle dissipates when she travels. When she is home, she cannot go to the grocery store except late at night, and she is pretty reclusive most of the time. When she travels, she will venture out to play bingo or head out to a restaurant or party. And I was able to explain this phenomenon to my friend. To me it was obvious – to him it was a revelation.
Avoiding the Familiar
At home, my friend’s mom runs the risk of running into old acquaintances at the grocery store or at church…it is, after all, a very small town. And she does not want to get the “head tilt”…remember, the “how are you doing” head tilt? She doesn’t want to run into to people who knew the “them”, who spent time with the “them”, who will be solicitous (be it genuine or just polite) about how she has done these past five years. So, instead, she tends to hide…to avoid anyone who knew the “them” and might not be able to or know how to deal with just the “her”. When she is on vacation, she does not run the risk of encountering anyone who knew her as the half of a couple, but, rather new people who are meeting her and enjoying her company for who she is. She then returns home and hides again in the comfort of the home they shared.
Moving out of The Comfort Zone
There are many ways to move out of one’s comfort zone, regardless of circumstances. And sometimes once one has secured his or her own identity after loss, and has moved out of that figurative or literal comfort zone, it can be healthy and helpful to return to it – such was the case when I returned “home” to Sarasota last week. But I had already moved out of my literal and figurative comfort zone, which was my life with Tom, the home I had established with him, our dinners together, playing Jeopardy together and just being together through thick and thin, joys and sadnesses, trials and tribulations, fights (minimal) and makeups and…our last days and moments together. He is with me always, but by moving to Arizona, by meeting new friends, by embracing new experiences, my “them” has merged into just “me”. He made it clear to me how he wanted me to move on with my life. And by moving out of my comfort zone I am honoring his wishes, as well as our forty years together. I am moving forward. Sometimes with great strides, sometimes with baby steps. Sometimes with a sniffle, sometimes with a flood of tears, often with a smile. But, for the most part, forward. And that includes returning to my comfort zone last week and spending so much time with people who knew us – the memories brought me joy more than sadness, and I relished in hearing the stories, the fond feelings…and in sharing the Kleenex while we reminisced.
To my dear friend…be patient with your mom. Her loss was something I am glad you cannot understand. As hard as it is to lose a parent, it is, sadly, part of the natural scheme of life. But to lose a soulmate is unique in its pain, in its sadness and sense of utter and profound loneliness. I hope she can learn that the new “she” is and always will be a part of and a product of the “them”, and that her ability to move forward out of her comfort zone will grow greater with time. And that soon she will be able to go to the grocery store earlier in the day. 💖