Monday, November 6, 2017

Light at the End of the Tunnel

The last couple of months have been a blur as I have been coordinating my efforts with those of the contractors I hired to prepare the house for sale.  The finish line is in sight and while I still have a few hours of work remaining, the house will hopefully be ready to list in the next week or two.  It will be a great relief to finally be able to move on, and although I doubt Melinda is interested in worldly concerns, I hope that she will see that I've made the house nice like we always wanted and appreciate it on some level.  For me, the satisfaction is in finishing a large task and creating a home that some other family can move into and enjoy without worrying too much about maintenance for a few years.

Attaining my goals does create some negative feelings, though.  I wish that Melinda were here to share in the joy of accomplishment and it makes me sad that she isn't around to celebrate with me.  On the other hand, I know that we didn't work well together and that if she were here, the house would not be done because a) we'd disagree on how to proceed and b) we wouldn't be able to afford to hire people because of the deep debt we were in.  In a strange way, I feel guilty for enjoying my success because I can't see any way I could have come to this point without losing Melinda.  My feelings are perfectly expressed in the lyrics to It's a Trip by Joywave.

   Creepy little sneaky little foreign places
   Terrifying territories, I can't take it
   It's a great big atlas, yeah
   I'm feeling dumb


I'm on a path that was unthinkable over two years ago.  That in itself is not a negative, but it is somewhat overwhelming having no set path.  It can be exciting to have a world of options in front of me, however I used to have the comfort of knowing that I had someone else to walk with me.  Some of the directions Melinda headed us in were fun and exciting, and she brought a sense of adventure to my life.

   When you've gotten what you want
   Maybe I should start over
   There's nothing left to want
   Up and at 'em again
   You don't know what you want
   Yeah, I'm thinking it over
   Just tell me what to want
 
I compromised so much of what I wanted in order to keep Melinda happy that I lost a part of myself over the last couple of decades.  I finally have the financial stability I desired for years.  Without the constant stress over bills and arguments over the house and other issues, I finally feel at peace for the first time in a very long while.  So I've gotten what I want, but I'm forced to start over.  Unfortunately, what I really wanted was Melinda, so "there's nothing left to want."  I have positive changes in my life, but it came with a cost.  She was the most important part of my life, but I'm trying to focus now on what I want my life to be.  I have short term goals, but I haven't figured out my long game yet.  Part of me wishes she were still here to "tell me what I want", only because that's how I ended up living for years and it's easier to blame someone else if problems arise when you remove yourself from the decision making.

Another recent song triggers some specific feelings.  It's Sober Up by AJR.

   Won't you help me sober up
   Growing up it made me numb
   And I want to feel something again
   Won't you help me sober up
   All the big kids they are drunk
   And I want to feel something again
   Won't you help me feel something again?
   Can I finally feel something again?

To me, the most grown up experience you can have is to lose someone dear to you.  It's why people are most sympathetic to a young child that loses a sibling or parent.  You don't want them to have to deal such a difficult problem at a young age.  I've lost grandparents and I lost my brother Billy when I was 34, but nothing has numbed me more than losing Melinda (and it didn't help that her mother Jean passed the following year, as she and I had become close friends).  February will be three years since Melinda passed and I'm still not sure how I feel about the possibility of being in a relationship again.  We had so many issues that it unfavorably colors my idea of what it will be like with someone new.  Plus, I'm not certain that I will be strong enough to go through such a loss again.  I want to feel love again, but there's a certain level of comfort staying in the numbness because there's no risk. 

This may sound trivial, but the catchy song Best Friend by Sofi Tukker, which is featured in the iPhone X commercial is what I really want with someone.  It makes me sad both because I wish I had that with someone now and because Melinda and I had glimmers of it throughout our marriage (but not nearly often enough).

   I think that I'll keep loving you, way past sixty-five
   We made a language for us two, we don't need to describe
   Every time time you call on me, I drop what I do
   You are my best friend and we've got some shit to shoot

I would love to have someone in my life like that, and perhaps one day I will.  At the moment, it's too scary a proposition to love someone like that.  For now, all I can do is focus on becoming a better version of me.  The way life works, my new best friend will come into my life when I least expect it and my guard is down, and I look forward to that moment.  Contrary to what you may see on Survivor every week, blindsides are not always a bad thing.

I find myself with fewer bottled up emotions as I've been writing these blogs.  I feel like once I've gone through the process of writing one that I'm able to let go of at least part of that emotional baggage.  Losing Melinda will always be a part of who I am, but I refuse to let it define me.  I became a widower at 49 and I will always carry that with me, but I am so much more than that.  I may have more to say in the future, but I want to give my thanks to those who have continued to read my ramblings.  You have been a part of my journey, even as a passive observer.  Hopefully, something I have written resonated with you and was helpful in some way.

I'll leave you with a verse that's very meaningful to me from Kitchen Sink by Twenty One Pilots.

   Are you searching for purpose?
   Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
   Then paint something then, it might be wordless
   Pointless curses, nonsense verses
   You'll see purpose start to surface
   No one else is dealing with your demons
   Meaning maybe defeating them
   Could be the beginning of your meaning, friend