Lessons That I Have Learned from Friends and Family

One of the things that I do to stay positive is to read uplifting articles, which usually rules out the newspaper.  A great place to turn for that, I have learned, is the Living section of The Huffington Post (warning: stay away from the current news though, it is always upsetting).  A couple of days ago, I read an article there, 18 Life Lessons from Family and Friends, that inspired me to imitate it.  Imitation being the highest form of flattery, the author, Susan Orlins, said she would be honored if I did and she told me that her niece had printed out the post and put it on the wall to look at it everyday.

So here goes the partial list of the lessons that I have personally learned from my family and friends because how could I really mention everything anyone has ever taught me:

1)  From my mom, I learned how to love my children deeply and fearlessly without holding on too tight, giving them the opportunity to develop their own identities.

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Rest in Peace

Oh boy, did I have a morning yesterday.  I knew that it might be a tad emotional because I was scheduled to have brunch with my ex-boyfriend Marc.  The last time we got together I ended up crying (and getting angry) at the Dirty Truth (thank God it is so loud and dark in there that no one but the servers really noticed).

I met Marc at Shiva Shakti, my hot yoga studio, but we never really got to know each other until he found me on Match.com.  He contacted me and then wooed me with such tenderness and passion that I was eventually swept off my feet.  He became close with my Thursday night friends, seduced my platonic boyfriend Tobey, loved up my children, and even charmed my ex hubby (who, despite our peaceful relationship, has never met any of my suitors).  He shoveled my snow, cleaned my kitchen after dinner, brought me sweet gifts, took my kids bowling and to the aquarium, and wrote me very touching poems after each time we saw each other.  And we practiced yoga together, which was a big, big, plus for me since it is such an important part of my life.  As you might imagine, I was in deep.

Just as quickly as Marc appeared though, he vanished, practically into thin air.  He went away on some business trips, got some bad news that his wife was re-opening their divorce agreements and going after his business, and broke up with me on e-mail (not as bad as Carrie Bradshaw’s post-it note break-up but bad nonetheless).  He told me that the two months he spent with me were like a wonderful dream, like Disneyland, the happiest place on earth, but you can’t stay there.  I was dumbstruck…and hurt.  Some time passed and he said that he wanted to continue to be friends, especially since we were going to be seeing each other in yoga.  I, being the peaceful type that I am, acquiesced, partly because I wanted to be friends and partly because I just wasn’t ready to lose him in my life.

But it hasn’t been easy.  I realize that this is still an open wound, one that scabs over when I don’t see him yet splits apart each time I do.  We still have this intense connection, affection, and chemistry that are undeniable and each time I think, Why aren’t we together?  Just this week I was feeling like I no longer missed him nor wanted to be with him when he contacted me and asked to see me before I leave for California.  I felt divided yet I also felt a sense of commitment to the peace and friendship.  I also just can’t seem to close my heart to someone once I have opened it.

The brunch went rather calmly and lightly until the end.  It was really the confluence of events that swirled around it that made it such a difficult morning.  I went to the bathroom and saw that I had received a few texts, one from my ex.  Lately my ex has been a bit sad, missing our family time, and, it would seem, missing me.  I have chalked it up to the fact that he is off for the summer (academic schedule), to our impending trip to California for five weeks, and to the warm feelings he has gotten reading my blog.  So I wasn’t completely surprised to receive a text from him saying that he was feeling nostalgic thinking about all the good times that we had in California with my parents and that he was “sorry for everything” (presumably breaking up the marriage).  Clearly he was feeling regret, an emotion that I am not so prone to, but it tugs at my heart strings nonetheless.

As Marc and I were leaving the restaurant, I ran into my sweet ex-boyfriend D and his daughter.  So there I was on a date with one ex-boyfriend running into another ex-boyfriend while receiving nostalgic texts from my ex hubby.  A bit much but I’m tough and preternaturally cheerful so we proceeded to pick out a card for a memorial that Marc was attending.  As we were ending the date and going our own ways, he grabbed me, kissed me on the mouth, and looked me intently in the eye to tell me that he wanted me to understand how much I mean to him, how much all that we did and had has meant to him and what a wonderful woman I am.  Then he kissed my cheek and left.  Well, why in hell did he have to do that?  I’m going to start calling him the wound splitter.

I went to find Tobey and Jackson at the Woodstar, and Jackson, who was the only one who didn’t like Marc to begin with, asked me what happens when you play with fire.  Was I really playing with fire?  I’m never sure.

I left them and strolled casually down Main Street to find my car, when I ran into a former suitor, one who shares a name with a Sesame Street character.  God how I wished it was something unique like Kermit or even Elmo, but alas…it was Bob.  I’m sure you could understand my disappointment at that one.  Only Dylan can carry off that name.  Even Ernie would have been sexier.

Bob was a very nice professor who seemed to be a promising prospect but, what can I say, we just didn’t have the right connection.  We tried to make it work, even two different times, but it eventually ended after his mom died.  I am sure that I was a bit callous in a Seinfeldian way, but I just couldn’t go through tragedy with a guy that I had only dated a few times, especially since I was going through it with my ex husband whose father was dying of cancer.  He broke it off with me, again on e-mail.  Thank God because who wants to break up with a guy whose mother just died.  He wrote that we weren’t “compatable” and I agreed because I tend to be compatible with people who know how to spell compatible (or at least use a spell checker).

Yesterday we chatted amiably on the street about the aftermath of his mom’s death, and he pointed out that he knew I didn’t want to really process that with him (touché).  He mentioned that he was coming to terms with the finality of it all, symbolized by the green grass that was growing over her grave, as if it had been there forever.  After running into three former suitors and hearing from my ex hubby that morning, I could relate to his feeling of vulnerability.  I couldn’t help but wish that the grass was growing seamlessly over their metaphorical graves…and that I didn’t feel like a gardener, simultaneously pulling out weeds while trying not to step on the wildflowers out of fear that I just might kill a thing of beauty.