The New Direction

Posted March 15, 2008.
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When I first contemplated living alone after Jim died, I felt overwhelmed almost to the point of panic. Luckily, two of my oldest friends are cat people, and immediately supported me when I made the timid suggestion, "I think I need a cat." Patrick stayed for a week after the funeral, and enthusaisticly supported me in adopting two cats from the local shelter, so they could keep each other company while I was out of the house. What with the day the shelter was closed and the day the vet was closed, it took a whole week, and I might have given up without his help. My friends took good care of me - but there were many mornings I might have just lain in bed sorrowing, when I got up because the cats expected their treat, and innumerable other times when the cats have called me back to life by their affection or their playfulness or just the sight of one of them sleeping comfortably in my home.

As time went on, I was surprised that I could see benefits to living on my own, such as eating dinner at the civilized hour of 5 pm.

The other thing, besides the cats, that kept me on toes was the IRS. About the time I was squaring my shoulders to address our 2006 taxes, I got a notice that we were being audited for 2005! I pulled myself together enough to file for an extension on 2006, go over my records and request print outs of bank statements that I'd misplaced, and I actually got through the audit in one piece. Then of course I needed some time to calm down and get through the summer (I hate our summers!) I wound up not owing anything after the audit, but I didn't get my 2006 filed until the deadline in October.

At this point fate was getting ready for a new twist. You see, I have a good dollop of social anxiety and prefer to see people one-on-one, so I seldom went to the weddings in our circle. But I realized the only way I was going to keep up with the Clarks and the Keehns and the Greys was to attend all the weddings, and there was one coming up in the Chicago area a week or two after I filed the taxes. I was vacillating. I wanted to be there, I just didn't want to take the train up alone and especially to get myself back alone.

Well, I have an old friend named Steve. We went to grad school together, and have kept in touch over the years, mainly through letters and then e-mails. He's stopped in most times he's come through Carbondale to visit friends in town or relatives in Kentucky, and he'd been inviting me and Jim to visit him up North for years. I'd seen a little more of him in 2007. He came to Jim's funeral in March and the benefit in April, and stayed a few days over the summer to help me get settled in here and move some more things over from the old house.

So when I mentioned Ruth's wedding in an e-mail and Steve offered to pick me up at the wedding and get me to the train later that weekend, I accepted at once, and things have been falling into place ever since.

After meeting Steve's father and seeing Henry, IL for the first time, I found myself asking Steve if he'd like me to mention it when I was ready to date. He answered "Sure" and then he looked away uncomfortably, looked back at me, and added, "But the logistics are a nightmare," and we both cracked up.

Well, the logistics are taking care of themselves, to the point that Steve proposed to me over Christmas break and I accepted.

I have to confess that I feel conflicted over the timing of this. The simple fact is, that I loved Jim and he loved me, and nothing will ever change that. But nothing will ever bring him back to me, either. And if there's one thing I learned from his love and his patience and his commitment, it's that love is a spark that comes to two people. That much is luck, or fate, or whatever you want to call it. But after that, you nurture love and you cling to it and you grow it together, you don't ask it to languish for mere conventions, you give it your all.

If Jim could get through to me, I'm sure he would be the first one to tell me to keep him in my heart but to move on with my life. As a matter of fact, in an odd way, I feel that he has. Steve and I have bought a house in Henry, which his dad is helping us remodel so I and the cats can move up there. I walked over to it the day after we closed on it, listening to my iPod shuffle up a gig and a half of my music. The moment I put my key in the lock, one of Jim's favorite songs came on over my headphones, The travelling Willbury's "End of the Line." My mouth dropped open, and I stood there listening to the whole song, remembering Jim, remembering the benefit that was held by his friends and family where Emily Grace had led us all in singing this very song. And I could almost hear Jim singing along with it, "Well its all right, riding around in the breeze,Well its all right, if you live the life you please..."