REMEMBERING BILL...
Saturday May 23, 2009 -- This morning an e-mail came
from my best friend of childhood. Kath doesn't write that often,
but she is good about letting me know when someone back home has
made their transition. Today I learned it was the father of one of
our closest childhood friends. Bill was 82 and had passed away on
Tuesday of this week after suffering from Alzheimers.
My first reaction was relief. Relief not only for Bill, but for
his wife and family. Due to the nature of his illness, the last
months could not possibly have been happy ones. At least now
Bill's suffering was over and his respite has begun -- something
to celebrate.
At the same time, I read the obit that was so thoughtfully chosen
and appropriate for Bill, and I burst into unexpected tears.
Although I hadn't seen this man in 37 years, it brought me right
back to when I was a young girl, included in one of their family
outings to the woods along the Wisconsin River. I recalled, almost
as if it were yesterday, my delight and fascination with the
unusual neighbor man who triggered my love of the outdoors.
The family had chosen a quote from Walden: "If a man does not
keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a
different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears,
however measured or far away." Such a fitting quote for the
man I looked up to because his interests diverged from those
around him. Unlike other fathers in the neighborhood who had jobs
and went to work, Bill stayed home and worked as a time study
engineer, designing office equipment and games. His wife worked
full-time as a nurse.
He was a nature enthusiast who loved bird watching and often took
his children and their companions on outings. He enjoyed classical
music, poetry and encouraged reading and creativity. He had a
profound influence on my life at an early age, I have no doubt
about that.
I have been out of touch with the family for many years,
especially since moving to Colorado in 1978. I suppose I have
become somewhat philosophical in how I have dealt with other
transitions in the last few years. I've lost old neighbor chums,
cousins, uncles and close friends, not to mention my husband just
nine months ago. So why this sudden flood of tears over someone in
my distant past?
It is because my relationship with Bill, 26 years my senior, was
on a soul level. There are all kinds of relationship
transitions... divorce, losses such as with my husband, new
relationships coming in with friends and all kinds of family
members. Last year I gained a new grandchild. Each transition
involves a new kind of adjustment in our lives.
Our challenge is being able to deal with those adjustments. Often,
such as in the loss of a mate, there is a vast lifestyle change in
the making. In my experience I was suddenly faced with loss of
income in addition to losing a vital part of myself. In fusing my
feelings with Bill's transition, I have come face to face with my
inner child and how he contributed to my growth at an influential
time in my life. I look back upon that experience with gratitude
and fond memories.
In order to integrate a transition such as this one into your own
life, you can reach out to the family members who must be dealing
with it in a much more difficult way. They were close to their
father while I was way outside the picture. Their pain is more
intense, for sure. Letting them know that their father had such an
impact on my life, perhaps by sending a note along with a sympathy
card, expressing a happy memory, is one way I will deal with my
own sadness. Better yet, a phone call may bring comfort.
Grief is more than just an emotion we experience when we lose
someone. Grief comes into play when we lose a job, when we must
move from a location we love, and even when our perspective
changes on viewing a certain situation. Grief is not something to
stifle and ignore. It requires acknowledgement, at least in some
way, and tears have traditionally been the most healing pathway
when we have lost something or someone in our lives.
In the future I will be looking at the other transitions in our
lives, such as the role codependency plays when we get ourselves
into relationships for less than good reasons, and how it can
devastate us. There are also transitions within relationships that
don't involve a relationship ending at all, but shifting to new
levels.
Sooner or later, everyone has to face some kind of major
transition in their lives. But it is not the end of the world. It
may feel that way for a while, and in some cases, for some people,
it can last for years. But there are ways to integrate these
changes into our lives so that we come out richer and stronger,
able to tackle the next one that comes along.
Bill's passing has stirred something inside of me and caused me to
examine and acknowledge a part of me that grew into something I
value because he was in my life, if even for a short period of
time in comparison to the scale of things. I look back and can't
help but smile when I think of the wonderful times we all had in
the woods... I can still smell the fresh spring blossoms and
autumn leaves after a rain, and I recall how Bill taught me the
joy of nature and the wittiness of word play.
I'm sure I see him, in my mind's eye, whistling along a path in a
green forest in the Great Beyond.
BE SURE TO CHECK OUT my new column at the Denver Examiner, where you can find articles on Relationship Transition.
To place your order for Ann's new book, THROUGHOUT ALL TIME, click here.
E-mail Ann to leave a comment.