One of the things that folks do is encourage the grieving to get out, try new things. I felt so horrible those first few weeks that I thought that would pull me out of some of the pain I was in.
It didn’t.
I flew to visit friends about a month after Dwight passed, but the trip there and back was quite painful. Late flights, cancelled flights and watching couples in all the airports put me into tears more often than not. The little frustrations of traveling were magnified and there were quite a few times that I pulled my phone out to call Dwight and complain about whatever situation had just occurred. Which led to tears.
When I landed at my destination, there was a man waiting with a bouquet of flowers. Soon, a young woman quickly covered the distance between them and threw herself into his arms. I slowly made my way to the exit, head down, hoping no one noticed the tears on my face. I didn’t have a spare hand to wipe them away.
When I returned to my home airport, I automatically looked down the corridor to the spot where he always waited for me.
He wasn’t there.
I knew he wouldn’t be, but after so many years of having him pick me up from my many photographic trips, I automatically sought him out.
I was the woman crying by the luggage carousel; the trip had just been too much.
I’ve cancelled 4 other trips since then. I’ve even bought plane tickets, but the fear of having a bad trip was greater than the dislike of losing that money. I’ve since vowed to never buy non-refundable tickets, again.
Another thing I tried was learning to ride a motorcycle. I have no idea why. I went to the local Harley store and picked out a bike (2019 Iron 883 all black – SWEET!). I arranged financing, got my temporary motorcycle license and signed up for two riding classes. So far, so good. I made an appointment for after after my first class to do the paperwork on the bike.
Unfortunately, the bike thing was a better-sounding idea than in actuality. I wound up having to pull myself out of class on the first day of riding, about an hour-and-a-half into the class. Between my clutch hand giving out completely and the fact that I was actually scared of the bike (where did that come from?), the motorcycle idea died a quick death. I cancelled the bike purchase, the registration for a second class and sat back to re-group.
I’m still re-grouping.
So…I won’t be getting out and trying new things; it’s enough that I’m trying out this new life, learning new skills and accepting new responsibilities. Right now, I need the comfort of things that are not new.