One week from today, I will be returning to India. It has been just under two years since my last trip, but it feels like a decade has passed in those two years. I went to India in 2012 out of desperation, a last shot at salvaging myself from dissolving in a toxic mess of despair. India was a spark of light in an otherwise darkened existence; shortly after my arrival, the spark ignited a flame, a flame that has continued to burn to this day. The flame is hope, and it saved me.
My memories of India are, of course, tarnished by the tragic events that followed my return home. Exactly one week after picking me up from the airport, Christian left this world, taking a part of me with her. We had grown so close in those months leading up to my departure, and even when I was on the other side of the globe, we communicated daily. I felt like she was traveling with me as she laughed at my funny stories and reciprocated with stories and photos from home, especially relating to my precious dogs she was caring for. Our conversations were light and cheerful as we looked forward to my coming home as "my old self."
I did come home at peace with myself and even the dissolution of my marriage, but I still struggled that first week. She saw that firsthand. But what she didn't see was so much bigger than my struggles: the flame was still burning. I still had hope. I wish I had known how much she needed to see that. I would have shown her. If only.
My "old self" doesn't exist anymore. Carefree and so naive to the extent of pain, grief, and sorrow that one human being can experience, my old self died with her that horrible night. This trip to India will not bring the old me back anymore than it will bring Christian back. That is not what this trip is about. I would not want to return to the person I was before she died even if I could.
Instead, this trip comes at a time when I am trying to figure out who I want to become. I am looking forward, examining my priorities and goals, and I am looking in the mirror, testing my limits in my present state. I am a survivor now, but what does that mean for my future? Sometimes it takes leaving everything familiar behind to isolate yourself so completely that you can see yourself clearly. Thoreau went to the woods "to live deliberately." I am going to India.
My memories of India are, of course, tarnished by the tragic events that followed my return home. Exactly one week after picking me up from the airport, Christian left this world, taking a part of me with her. We had grown so close in those months leading up to my departure, and even when I was on the other side of the globe, we communicated daily. I felt like she was traveling with me as she laughed at my funny stories and reciprocated with stories and photos from home, especially relating to my precious dogs she was caring for. Our conversations were light and cheerful as we looked forward to my coming home as "my old self."
I did come home at peace with myself and even the dissolution of my marriage, but I still struggled that first week. She saw that firsthand. But what she didn't see was so much bigger than my struggles: the flame was still burning. I still had hope. I wish I had known how much she needed to see that. I would have shown her. If only.
My "old self" doesn't exist anymore. Carefree and so naive to the extent of pain, grief, and sorrow that one human being can experience, my old self died with her that horrible night. This trip to India will not bring the old me back anymore than it will bring Christian back. That is not what this trip is about. I would not want to return to the person I was before she died even if I could.
Instead, this trip comes at a time when I am trying to figure out who I want to become. I am looking forward, examining my priorities and goals, and I am looking in the mirror, testing my limits in my present state. I am a survivor now, but what does that mean for my future? Sometimes it takes leaving everything familiar behind to isolate yourself so completely that you can see yourself clearly. Thoreau went to the woods "to live deliberately." I am going to India.
ReplyDeleteBetsy~ You are incredible and though I wouldn't wish any of the pain you have survived upon anyone, for some reason it has all been part of your life's journey. And that journey led you next door to us. We gained a loving, caring, and passionate neighbor and friend. You have been a blessing in our lives.
"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls. The most massive characters are seared with scars."
-Khalil Gibran
Love that quote. Thanks so much.
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