As I look back over this year, I feel so many different
things; frustration, sadness, disappointment, loneliness. It has been a difficult year all the way
around and even having to write about it seems to give it more credit than I
care to, but in writing, one has to deal with both the good and the bad. And,
in writing, a catharsis can come when things held hidden are brought into the
light.
As I review these past 365 days, I go straight to 1/1/13
and what a horrible day it had been and how it seemed to set the tone for the entire year. I was healing from my back injury from
August and was feeling optimistic and happy. And then I fell. It was so stupid!
I was making bread and was carrying cookie sheets into the kitchen and had
turned my head to look at something and missed the step. Since my hands were
full and I was at an angle, I fell smack on my right hip and shoulder…the exact
two spots that had been injured in the first place. So, I started off the new
year with a couple of curse words…not a good start at all.
And that is pretty much how my whole year has gone.
Excited with expectations of wonderful things happening, but instead, having
something not so good happen instead.
What I have felt keenest has been the loss of a close
friendship. This happened in March, during Easter, and now, here at the end of
the year, I’m not sure it will ever be the same. This was a ten year friendship
that I would have sworn nothing could ever shake. In the simplest of terms, my
feelings were hurt deeply, I was asked to say why, I did, and it was greeted
with an amount of uncaring that I didn't believe possible.
And here’s why it still hurts; my character was never
considered. Anyone who knows me at all knows that it takes a lot to make me mad
or upset. They also know that if I do get mad or upset, I get over it quickly.
My philosophy has always been, let’s talk it out and move on. Since I am someone
who is not easily upset, shouldn't the fact that I AM upset speak volumes?
That is one of the problems with having a bad time, you
really find out who your friends are. When you start to say words like “lonely”
or “disappointed” people, well, some people, treat you differently. Like you've uttered words that have no business in polite society. Or suddenly you are not worth their friendship because you are not your usual happy-go-lucky self.
So, let’s tackle the big one…loneliness. Just for grins, the next time you are having
a bad day, say to someone that you are fighting loneliness, then watch their
eyes. You will see alarm in them, like you have startled them somehow. And I
have to wonder why? Everyone is lonely now and then and it is a valid emotion
just like any other. Why such a stigma with loneliness? To me, it meant that I
was mourning the loss of a good friend and that brings a void. Then when some of my sweetest friends up
and moved out of Tucson, and my social circle dropped
by half, well, yeah, I’m going to be lonely.
It doesn't mean that you should look down on me or that I
am pitiable in some way. The most social person in the world can also be
horribly lonely. It just means that I have told you how I am feeling. Maybe it
means you should invite me out for lunch instead of judging me or fearing that
if you are around me, you’ll catch my loneliness somehow. And for goodness
sake, don’t use my loneliness as a way to feel good about yourself. You know
who you are.
Another part of this year has been not being able to be physically active. I don’t think I can write another sentence about my
stupid back or all the physical pain I’ve had this year, except to say that I
am still not running or biking or swimming or kettle-belling. My spirit is
raring to go, go, GO, but my body is still saying, not yet. Not yet.
The biggest heartache of the year, of course, was Phil
dying. I know I have written about it many times since it happened, but I have
to say, it hurts just the same as if it were yesterday. For anyone new, Phil
was my son’s best friend, roommate, bandmate, co-worker, partner in crime and
his death was so horrible that all involved are still reliving it and grieving
it. I miss him terribly and it hurts me to see my son struggle so with it all. One of Phil’s girlfriends
came to pick up Michael one night when he was home for Christmas and collapsed
in our driveway crying. And there was my brave son, consoling her while
fighting though his own grief. He has nightmares where he relives the night,
where he sees Phil but can’t get to him. As he was telling me this I asked if Phil
has come to him yet. He shook his head
no. I told him once he does, it will get better, the dreams will subside, and
Phil will help him move on.
Now, as a brief explanation, for anyone who has never
lost someone, at some point, they come back to you. Before I had experienced loss,
I didn’t believe this at all and when people would say things like this, I
would smile politely but think that their imaginations are what visited them,
not their dearly departed loved one. And then Jon died. He came to me quickly
on a beach in San Diego and sometimes comes and turns off the water to the
kitchen sink just as he did when he was alive. My Mom didn’t believe in this at
all until this year, three years after my Dad had died, when she came home and
a golf ball dropped right next to her ear, bounced once, and landed perfectly
in a dish on a table a few feet away. She called me perfectly giddy and that
was a turning point in her grief.
So, last week, a few days after our conversation, Michael
came home and said that Phil had come to him in the most irritating way
possible. Okay, so a little bit of backstory here; Phil was a sweater, like he
would drip with sweat and it was gross and Michael would tease him about it and
it is one of the things that brought us laughter in the days after he died; Phil
and his sweat. So Michael lifts up his outer shirt and shows me a huge pit
stain on his right side. I bit my lip trying not to laugh. It seems Michael is
sweating uncontrollably, but from only his right pit. As he was ranting, I was
doubled over laughing my head off because this is SO Phil. A practical joker to
the end. So. Freakin. Funny.
This year has mostly been about clarifying for myself what friendship means. Who is a friend and who, sadly, isn't. It has been a year of being alone. Ack. Of realizing, that I am alone and learning to live with that, because, it is where I find myself right now. Alone. I went on two dates and neither were promising. My closest friends have never lived here, but close friends, the ones that have moved, have left a hole in my world. And without being able to run or ride or any other social exercise, that friend pool has all but dried up. So I have cherished the friends who remain; the friends who don't care that I have had a bad year. The friends who send me funny texts; the friends who still seek my council; the friends who make room for me in their life.
In the midst of all this pain and sorrow, I’ve had to
learn a lot about myself. I’ve learned what I will and won’t put up with, even
from close friends and family. I’ve learned that I would rather be alone than
compromise who I am. (A sobering reality as I live that one out.) I've learned I would rather end a friendship than agree
with you that it is okay to treat me in a way that hurts me. I know who I am,
sorry if you understood that a bit too late.
I've learned that laughter can come at anytime from anywhere.
I’ve learned that the people who ‘get’ you are gifts from God. I’ve learned
what friendship is and isn’t and I’ve learned to cherish those who value it. I’ve
learned to live with profound loss. And I’ve learned that a good hug can heal
what ails you.
I've learned to rely on God and seek Him even when it
seems He is not there or responding.
I've learned that in just about eleven hours from now, a
new day, a new year, a new moon, is waiting.
New. Fresh. Begin.
Let’s go.
