Another round around the roundabout...

..... It's Okay to Give Yourself a Minute. Or a Month.

Our little town has a traffic circle. A roundabout. A rotary.

Photo by Firdouss Ross on Unsplash

Happily, ours is simple, unlike the infamous “Magic Roundabout”, which is five individual roundabouts arranged in a circle, creating a mega-roundabout. This one would give me hives.

I discovered, upon moving here, that some folks hold energetic objections to this local traffic management fixture. It seems to work, but that’s just me. Not everyone feels the same way, and that’s fine too.

And I will concede, that sometimes in unfamiliar cities – especially in countries where they’re driving on the wrong left side of the road – those roundabouts can really dial up the anxiety. Which exit to take? Which lane to be in to take the exit? Oops, I think it was the one I just passed! Now what?

As a friend recently observed, “Even Google Map Lady can’t tell you fast enough. She says Take the 3rd exit right after you pass it!”

I’m moving, but am I getting anywhere?

As challenging as an actual asphalt roundabout can be, the emotional version is harder by far.

Just when I think I know where I am and where I’m going, just when I think I know the lanes and the bumps and the exits, I find myself stuck, going around one more time. I’m moving, but am I getting anywhere?

This time – this week – at least I know why I’m here, going round and round. This week marks the 2nd year since Tom’s death.

Two years. Can it really be two years?

And, at the same time, Has it only been two years?

In the words of (one of) Tom’s favorite tennis players, Rafa Nadal: ¿Impossible, no?

Time folds and stretches like an accordion, and it’s confusing sometimes. It’s comforting, sometimes. It’s disorienting, sometimes – like a strange roundabout.

These past few months have been gentler on my heart. I’ve slept better, smiled more, laughed even. I’d like to say I’ve wept less, maybe? I’ve connected with old friends and made some new ones. I’ve been surprised by joy, to borrow a phrase from CS Lewis. I’m writing a little.

I’m okay.

And that’s saying something, because for awhile I wasn’t sure I would be okay. But I am.

For the most part, I’ve navigated my messy and congested internal emotional roundabout pretty well.

For the most part. But there’s a very accurate internal timekeeper in there too, and my heart knows we’re on the cusp of the 2 year anniversary.

And I’m feeling it. Feeling the immense absence, the long months of long days and nights, the long journey of longing.

I’m not stuck. But I’m taking a few extra laps around this heart-shaped roundabout.

Some time ago, I heard brilliant advice on this dilemma: Take at least one full trip around the roundabout. Go all the way around, and then - if you’ve got it figured out - make your exit on round 2. If you need another full circle, go again, and then you’ll know, with confidence, which exit to take and which lane is required.

So, this week I’m staying on my tender roundabout for awhile. I’ll take as many laps as I need.

I’m looking through old photos, touching his favorite books, taking a walk on “our” beach. I’ll drink coffee out of his beloved Camp4Coffee mug; I’ll hold that old sweatshirt to my face, and breathe him in. Maybe I’ll pour a little of his Mescal, maybe I’ll read some entries from his journal full of his favorite quotes.

I’ll feed the birds. I’ll definitely feed his birds.

Maybe it’s indulgent; maybe it’s therapeutic; maybe it’s simply instinctive. But I’m taking my time here this week: such memories, such love, such gratitude.

This is where I am. I won’t stay here forever, but this is where I am.

I need to linger for a bit.

What about you?

We all have our roundabout ways of navigating the hard stuff. What’s yours?

Wherever you are in your journey, know you’re not alone. And please, take care of you.