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| Me, distracted in 2008 or 2009. I don't remember the year...Its all a blur. |
I'm not exactly sure when "cultural night" started. Maybe two weeks or so after Roman died. Since then, time has been a blur and event sequencing is something I continue to struggle with to this day. Days and weeks blend into years, with November 2006 as the marker. Nowadays, I know if things happened before or after Roman's death, but my recollection is general according to details like seasons or who was being a huge pain in the ass at work around a specific time. Other than that, it's a big foggy haze, so I just recall that cultural night began at some point before Christmas 2006, shortly after Roman died. But I'll come back to that momentarily..
I waited some days after the funeral to let my friend, Manna, know about Roman's sudden passing. She had just given birth to a son and I did not want to burden her pristine new world with the news of Roman's death. I told her why I decided not to mention it right away, but still she said she wished I'd told her sooner. Rationally, I wanted to...but I stopped short because of the baby. It sounds strange probably, but that was my thinking at that time.
The day that I told her about Roman, I had been in my office at work..spacing out - unable to focus. Roman consumed my thoughts and realized that trying to do anything other than think about him was futile; so I decided to finally let Manna know what happened. I knew I couldn't keep it to myself forever, new baby or not. I remember she cried softly as I explained that he had died.
Manna and I were friends from grad school. Our friendship had been casual in the past, and was largely based on our shared career interest in school psychology. However, after Roman died, she became one of my dearest friends. Manna came through for me back then.
"What are you doing after work..?" she asked with concern. "Come over on your way home..Just come on over.." She clearly cared and for that I was grateful. Her invitation was a welcome relief.
While I did not want to burden her, going home to my quiet apartment was awful. My thoughts raced, and the silence did nothing more than wave the checkered flag for them to rev louder. To this day, in addition to time, I also struggle with silence. Nowadays, listening to music is a tremendous comfort. Though, back then I could not enjoy music like I once had. I'd loved it practically since birth, so losing my interest was like another personal loss...but I digress.
After that day, I spent a lot of time at Manna's house after work. She had a good marriage, a nice home, and an adorable new baby. Being there felt like a small vacation from my troubles, which thankfully, Manna welcomed. She was a huge support to me when I needed her most.
My experience showed me that people really do show their colors during times of crisis. With the exception of one friend (who is no longer a friend), every single person I reached out to at that time, took my hand and held it during those moments of horrible silence. Their kindness was often unexpected and is probably a major reason that I had the counterintuitive reaction of becoming more open after Roman betrayed me. True, some people simply are not nice and are not worth the time of day. However, grief has shown me that most people care and want to do well by others. My friend, Manna, was no exception. And with that, "cultural night" was born.
We named it accordingly because every Friday night, I joined Manna, her husband, and their baby to try food from a new ethnic restaurant. The new tradition was not only fun, it was also comforting. Like a bad magic act, my previous world was yanked from underneath me. Not surprisingly, I was eager to replace it. Cultural night gave me something new to call my weekly norm, which was needed and healing.
As I said at the start of this post, I'm not sure when we began the tradition or exactly how long it lasted, but after a few weeks of culinary exploration, a new adventurer, Janet, joined our group. She was another friend of Manna's who had just ended a long-term relationship and was going through a period of grief as well. Janet was in need of a delicious new tradition as well, so she began coming along. It was then that I re- dubbed our outings, "Manna's Lonely Hearts Club." And so of course, in order to continue keeping ourselves distracted in the time in between Friday nights, Janet and I both joined eHarmony.
I can't speak for Janet, but initially for me, it truly was that - a distraction. Being just a short time after my loss, I hardly felt like quality dating material. Likewise, beginning something new at the risk of further emotional injury did not sound like good times. Yet, after I signed up, I realized 1) I was not digging ANY of the guys it was matching me with, and 2) I had just gotten back from a section of emotional hell and was keenly aware of my strength to pull myself up by the bootstraps if needed. With that, I reasoned that there was actually little risk in my newfound venture.
Back then, though it consumed me, I wanted nothing more than to forget, so I avoided my grief at every turn. Instead of worrying about getting hurt, I focused on welcoming whatever came from it.
In hindsight, the correspondences ended up being somewhat healing for me. I could not sit down and focus well enough to write lucidly in my journal, and talking about it did not quell me even though I was attending counseling. Yet as it turned out, the emails I exchanged at that time were like cathartic little journal entries for me, though I was unaware of it at the time. As I said, eHarmony was there as a distraction at most...Never did I anticipate it leading to anything worthwhile.
The universe has a way of handing things to us when we least expect it though. And fortunately, by then I was used to rolling with the tides, because in late February 2007, I was introduced to a guy I liked named Chris, from Long Island, New York. In meeting him, suddenly my intended "distraction" came sharply into focus.
