Turning Away

University Grounds- Bradford, November 2005 by Grand Prix Pix

My friend Ted came and stayed with me for four days. I don't see Ted very often since we live in different states, but we've known each other for 20 years.

It's good to get an old friend's perspective on what you're doing, even though they probably don't have the slightest idea of what you're going through. The last time he was at my house was for Wendy's service.

Ted helped me realize that I am in a holding pattern. I guess I knew that, but the way he put it, "holding pattern" makes me see it in a new way. What am I holding out for?

He went to church with me on Sunday. During one of the hymns, I thought that what's really difficult is the turning away. I feel abandoned by Wendy's death and like that fabled Japanese dog, I'm holding to the same patterns in case she might come back--not in a physical way, surely, but in my dreams, in my head, in the wind. Turning away from her, away from the life we shared, might signal that I no longer need her or want her to come back.

Another friend called me this weekend. She's a new friend, a widow friend. She put her house up for sale this weekend and got really sad about it. She was in the same crisis, but further along. She was losing confidence that this was the right thing to do.

I told her that her husband will be with her for the balance of her life, no matter where she lives and no matter what she does. I told her selling the house wasn't turning away from him.

Externally this makes sense. Internally...I'm working on it.