There was never a time in my life when I felt more alone than when the first wife moved out, unannounced. I came home from work one day and the house was practically empty and she hadn't said a single word. Not one. It was a betrayal/disappointment/disloyalty that, truth be told, I still have not recovered from and probably never will.
That was in the late eighties -- 87 or 88... I forget. Looking back on it now, I was a fool for feeling the way I felt, but the way I felt then can't be changed, and so I'm at peace with it and acknowledge what is. I've forgiven me for being a fool back then.
Adding to my dreary mood of that time was that it happened to be very cold that winter. And wet -- meaning lots of snow and ice. For around here, we seemed to get either a snow or ice storm every week for about two months. While separated, an extraordinary snowstorm came that covered the city with more than a foot of snow that lingered for almost a week. (somewhere around here I got pictures to prove it.)
One of the elders in my cong at the time (Mike T) did something that was for him quite out of character. With way too much snow on the ground and having to come from the opposite side of town, he drove out to see me one morning. "Just checkin'", he said, to see if I was okay. I remember him being gruff... very rough on the edges in his approach with me, so rough that at the time I wondered why he'd even bothered to go to all the trouble.
But when I walked him out to his van as he was leaving, I saw the snow again and the thought of what he did for me, coming that far, and in bad weather.... my eyes still water over the memory of what he did for me *that* day. No one else did... no one else seemed to give a rat's. Mike T will always be my friend, for that and many other reasons. He's not your regla elder, I guess.
Any way, I ramble...
Tonight I've been listening to some old music. One song that will always be one of my favorites is Sting's Englishman In New York. It came out during the time I was separated and always reminds me of those times. Back then I listened to it over and over as, with tools and sawdust everywhere, I made a mess of my empty living room, building the entertainment center that I still have. In Englishman, Sting says things that I identified with because of what I was going through at the time. Things like:
Manners maketh man... and,
It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile.
Mainly though, the song is about somebody who is not in their proper environment, not where they know they should be. I'd think that an Englishman in NY would be someone who'd feel out of place all the time... never feel at home even when he was in his own home. He'd always feel like things were always slightly off kilter and in a way, always be a little bit afraid. Man, do I remember.... It's exactly how I felt. I felt that m y entire life was unraveling right in front of me and that I was powerless to do anything about it. I was.
So, as I was listening to Sting, it was good to feel the wind again that helps me to keep going... the thing that I heard long time ago that meant the absolute most:
Be yourself, no matter what they say.
I'm an Englishman in NY.
We Exes are nomads, living in (what we subconciously think is) foreign and sometimes hostile territory, hoping to one day find a home where we can get some rest and catch our breath. While the search continues, my advice to you would be the same as Sting's: be yourself, no matter what they say.