A lonely place

For me one of the loneliest places to be is the airport. I know that sounds crazy considering there are thousands of people at an airport at any given moment.  But for me, it is a sad and very lonely place.


Because of my job I have traveled almost every week for years.  Lane and I had a deal.  No matter what time of day or night he would take me to the airport and pick me up.  I always knew he would be outside waiting for me.  I looked forward to seeing his face light up when he saw me.  Even if it were a day trip he would say "I missed you so much.  Welcome home."


I knew that first trip after Lane died was going to be strange.  I tried to pretend it was no big deal.  But it was.  It signaled the end of life as I had known it.  I drove myself to the airport.  At the end of the trip I had to face the truth that Lane would never be waiting for me again. I broke down in the car on the way home.

It has been 5 years and I still get that same sinking feeling every time I'm in the airport.  There is no place where I feel more alone.  There is nobody waiting for me at the end of a trip.  No words of love or encouragement.  Even though I get into an empty car and drive to an empty house, to me the airport is the emptiest place on earth.

Where do you feel especially lonely?

Comfort zone

I am writing this entry on Sunday, June 19th Father's Day.  It's a sad day for me because my Dad is gone and so is the children's father, my husband.  Not much to celebrate.

So here it is very early in the morning and I am sitting in my office. I have run to my comfort zone.   Lane and I went into the consulting business together in 1997.  We rented a small office about one mile from our house.  We worked together in business just as we did in our personal life -- a good, well matched team.  We had different skill sets so there was never any competition or jealousy.  We had our eyes on the prize.  We were building a nest egg for retirement so that we could travel and do whatever we wanted to do.  It was great being together, making money and having fun doing it.

When Lane died I didn't think I would ever step into this office again.  Too many memories, too much of us in here.  But of course I did and now for many reasons I have a hard time not being here.  I could easily work out of my home but I don't want to give up this comfort zone.  This is the place where I feel Lane's presence and guidance.  I often come here on the weekends or stay late when I don't have to.  It's my comfort zone and I can't give it up.  Not yet, anyway.

Do you have a comfort zone?

How are you doing?

When Lane died I often got asked the question "how are you doing?"  Not "how are you?" but "how are you doing?"  To me, "how are you doing?" was inquiring about my mental state whereas "how are you? would be referring to my health and well being.

When you first lose your husband your mental state is definitely compromised. Most of us have see sawed from sad to unstable and back again.  I think this state of mind lasts a minimum of a year. During this time period you really can't tell people how you feel.  It would only frighten them and push some away.

So my usual reply was "I'm hanging in there" or "I'm doing the best I can."  Friends and family were willing and able to accept these answers.  It made them feel better even if I didn't.

As time progressed and I progressed I would answer "how are you doing?" with one word replies such as "better" or "fine."  People would smile and think I felt a lot better than I did but that was okay with me.

Now that Lane has been gone for 5 years I rarely get asked "how are you doing?"  The assumption is I have adjusted to my new life and moved on.  Of course that is not 100% accurate.  I have gotten used to life as it is now and I don't know if I ever will be able to completely move on.

So "how am I doing?"   I'm okay.  Let's leave it at that.

How are you doing?

Running away from home

Right after Lane died almost daily I had a strong urge to get into my car and just drive away.  Runaway from home.  Away from all of my fears and responsibilities.  My fantasy was go to someplace where I would alone on purpose and not just because my husband died.

For me this imaginary retreat was peaceful because I would be void of any feelings whatsoever.  I wouldn't cry.  I wouldn't feel bad.  I  would feel nothing.  In my mind feeling nothing had to feel a whole lot better than what I was feeling.

This runaway fantasy lasted a long time.  Even years later I would get in the car heading home and get that overwhelming desire to just keep driving.  I didn't know where but at least I wasn't going home to an empty house.

After 5 years of coping and being on my own I still have days when I want to runaway.  I wish I had something to run to but I don't.  I try to deal with those feelings of desperation any way I can.  Laughter, screaming and even loud horn honking helps.

In the end I pull into my garage and go home.  Fantasy over again.  For now.

Do you ever want to runaway from home?