Void Creep

A couple of weeks ago I was having a conversation with my friend Joe. We discussed many subjects, but one of them rose to the top of my thoughts as I was hiking recently. The subject revolved around whether the writing of this blog as well as the promotion of My Joy Journey with Amy makes it more difficult for me to form new friendships and companions. My brother Chuck had not so subtly weighed in on the subject in the middle of the summer. I conveyed to Joe that his hints did not upset me because I know his motivation was rooted in a good heart. He wants nothing but the best for me.

We discussed whether the blog and book had a chilling effect on forging new friendships. I reiterated my position that I didn’t think so. Amy is, and will always be, the love of my life. She is part of me and cannot be carved out of my being. I would never be interested in a friendship where the other person did not acknowledge her role in my life. The same would apply to me as well, I doubt anyone would be interested in forging a lasting friendship with me if I ignored or relegated their past relationships. Not as comparisons, but as a simple acknowledgment of their impact on our lives. My view on this is firmly set.

Changing tack, Joe asked me point blank what I’ve been doing to meet new people. I mentioned that pickleball and curling are my main social activities. I shared with him that I had recently met an outgoing and kind person I would have liked to have gotten to know better, but unfortunately, serendipity seems to have declined me another opportunity to meet her.

Joe is the most diplomatic and grace-filled man I know. His next comment caught me off guard. I am paraphrasing because I cannot recall his exact words, but it went something like this. “Mark, you’re a retired 60-year-old man. You no longer have the luxury of meeting new friends because of your kids’ social activities or through work. You can’t rely on randomly bumping into someone again by chance. When the opportunity arises, you must be more assertive.”

Joe’s polite rebuke stunned me. He was right again dammit.

This conversation was fresh in my mind when just a few days later I was playing pickleball. At some point in the afternoon, the subject of my blog and book entered the discussion after a match. My situation as a widower was extrapolated from the conversation and one of the women I had been playing with and against for the past couple of hours asked me. “I have a friend who also lost her spouse a few years ago. Do you mind if I pass your name onto her. I think you two would have a lot in common.”

In the past, I probably would have just politely declined. Joe’s rebuke, however, was fresh in my mind. “Absolutely, I replied. “That would be very kind of you.”

The following weekend I met up with her friend for coffee and subsequently struck up a new friendship. It was nice to share a simple conversation with someone.

My discussion with Joe and the subsequent situation, however, revealed to me an uncomfortable truth about myself. I have buried it deep in the recesses of my subconscious. I have slowly become so accustomed to my new life that I did not fully notice how much I truly miss having someone to just converse with on a daily basis.

Those simple interactions and conversations with Amy have slowly faded from my memory and I have overlooked their absence. It is a void that has crept into my life unnoticed and unwelcomed. It now gnaws at the edge of my thoughts each day.

As I contemplate this revelation daily, I hope my new sense of self-awareness offers me opportunities for growth. The learning curve is steep, but I see the wisdom in Joe’s advice and want to adopt a change in my approach.

Another step forward on a path I never wanted to travel.