Ache of Transition

It was a day that throbbed with the ache of transition.
The occasion for the BBQ was a going away party for Adam & Katie.
Dear friends and camp mates were moving to Austin.
Until the party, I hadn’t really thought about their absence.
But I will really miss them. They are 2 of maybe 6 people who always attend my monthly brunch.
Adam was the passion and work force behind a huge portion of Bat Country this year. Sure, being in a different state doesn’t have to mean that won’t build things together…but it’s not the same.
As I chewed on the fake chicken breast I had burned on the grill, I started to process what all the transition really meant.
I looked over and saw another friend playing with a young child. I noticed how many of my friends had or were planning on having kids very soon.

Friends getting married changes things. Friends having kids changes things much much more.
Of course I am happy for them and am thrilled at the prospect of meeting their child. I can’t wait to see how they blossom as parents and share their love.
But I know our friendship will change. We’ll catch up while their kid takes a nap, or while they are driving to and from work.
Their minds will be consumed with challenges that I know nothing about.
Our love will not diminish, but the overlap of our lives will.

My feeling of loss is purely selfish, I know.

Meanwhile, this was the first event that my ex and I both attended. She looked great. Her dog was adorable. And lots more feelings of loss stirred up.

I know I’m where I am supposed to be.
Besides a bout of depression a few weeks ago, I have been feeling great…but seeing her sure made me sad.

I tear up as I write this.

Remembering how I felt long ago, when everything was good.

Remembering what it is like to have a partner – when everything is good.

I have no one but myself to blame for things shifting. I gravitate towards solitude.

And being by myself is normally a place of comfort for me.

But at the BBQ, it felt like so many things that I love were slipping away.

And I felt very alone.

Obviously, I know that there is only the Now.

And I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. Maybe I will move to a new city. Maybe I will start a new relationship. Maybe the future will look like something I can’t imagine.

I guess I need to embrace the memories, and enjoy the Now with everything I got.

3 thoughts on “Ache of Transition”

  1. It’s really a strange, difficult thing when friends have kids- they basically become strangers you talk to on the phone about inconsequential subjects (or listen endlessly to stories about their children). I’m finding that as more and more of my friends start breeding, I’m having to seek out childfree friends. I miss the portion of my friends who’ve had kids, but I guess I’ll see them again in 18 years once the kids are gone. I’m not sure, myself, how to really deal with this transition, besides meeting people like me who don’t want kids.

    Hugs!

  2. You have to look at it as a revolving door.. some people will become closer, others move closer to other things/people. Nothing says the same and you may very well be looking back years from now thinking how wonderful the friends and relationships you are building this very moment are in the years to come.

    Embrace those moments for what they were and live in the new moments you create for yourself today. Reflecting is the beautiful part – the melancholy emotions we get is only the urge to want to relive a particular moment in time. Those feelings are not erroneous unless we dwell upon them so much that it hinders the moments we live in today.

    And for the record.. IMO kids don’t change ‘the path’ of who a person is. People themselves tend to change their path because it’s much more difficult to make time for both your kids and the things you need in life for yourself as well. Look at Karpo, look at myself. I’ll admit I was guilty of that – and now I’ve broken from that mold and am in that same revolving door making new friends, drawing upon new life experiences and YOU are one of the people that got me there! <3

    ((HUG))

  3. I think I also have a skewed perspective because most parents I know have kids in the 0-4 range. From what I hear, the relentless nature of parent duties eases up a little as they grow. (Until they get hooked on meth at 12, of course.)

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