“There will come a time when you have a negative experience with someone and instead of triggering your trauma, it triggers your healing and you are reminded of the work you have done to rebuild yourself.”
Nate Postlethwait @nate_postlethwait
I would say winter was a general cluster $#%# of emotions. From Christmas, New Years and all the way through Valentine’s Day, it felt as if the universe sent me a wake-up call on multiple fronts. It all kind of came to a crescendo when I realized how easy it was to turn off the outside world for a bit and generally not think about much of anything else other than the work in front of me and within me.
Is anyone feeling like the same person after all that we have been through this last year? After this uninvited guest of a pandemic, and through a series of encounters and conversations these last several weeks, I realize now that I need to approach my challenges, learning and state of being differently. Specifically, I need to change how I think about humility and this feeling that I need to apologize or defend myself for being exactly who I am, where I am and doing what I am doing. In a nutshell, I’m not sorry for the awakening to things this past year–to the things that contribute to the awkwardness of life. However, I am sorry for the loss of lives, the loss of connections and the loss of normalcy.
So what am I not sorry for at this point:
- I am not sorry for struggling to learn two languages at an age when most people have just started having colonoscopies,
- My grief is mine, and I’m not sorry for not knowing how to move through it day in and day out,
- I am not sorry for being selfish with my time
- And finally, I’m not sorry for saying “no” when I really want to say no.
Perhaps after one year of this altered life coexisting with a pandemic, this is about stopping the pattern of reaction that ultimately takes a toll on me. This is being aware of my normal go-to responses and realizing they are not always in my best interests.
Parlez vous…who gives a shit.
When I was traveling recently in Biarritz, Sofia and I were walking through a public park and a lovely couple stopped to play with her. They were probably late 50s in age. I said hello in French, and then as they talked to Sofia, I said, “Elle s’appelle Sofia, mais elle parle Italien.” In English it means, “She is named Sofia, but she speaks Italian.” It’s my new strategy of letting a stranger know that both the dog and her master have limited French skills. I’m always trying to lessen the language burden.
The lady smiled at me and said, “Ciao,” and then started talking in very basic Italian. Her Italian was like mine. We understood each other, even though we both had competing accents getting in the way. After speaking a few sentences, I got the impression she was a bit under the influence of something. I, however, was not. She slurred in a weird French/Italiano manner. All of a sudden she said surprisingly, “I think I speak Italian better than you.” She was teasing, or drunk, but in that moment I thought, “What does she have to gain from pointing that out?”
Last year’s Luke would have humbly smiled, probably apologized and agreed with her to make her feel better. However, she triggered something in that moment. I was 100% positive this woman could not speak Italian any better than me. Rather than feel ashamed and apologize, I simply said, “Ma no, non sono d’accordo. Non la capisco molto bene. Grazie e arrivederci.” Or, “But no, I don’t agree. I don’t understand you very well…thank you and goodbye.”
I think she was a bit taken aback by the abruptness of my response and subsequent exit, but at that point, I realized I wasn’t going to be left feeling ashamed by a stranger.
And the French version of the same experience
There’s a certain bakery in the village of Nèrac, I call it the “Orange Bakery” because of the color of the building facade. It’s my least favorite bakery, because it feels like the fast food of French bakeries, impersonal and transactional. However, they have the most flexible hours…and so I find myself there more often than I care to admit.
Last weekend I went in to purchase bread. Now the difference between masculine and feminine nouns matters in Latin languages, it changes everything. A baguette is feminine, however a loaf of bread, pain, is masculine. So you order “une baguette” or “un pain de whatever”. The difference between the pronunciation of “une and un” is a world apart in French. Un is a sound that is not common in English..kind of like “aohhnnn”. If you watched “Emily in Paris” on Netflix, you saw this exact situation. Here’s the scene on YouTube to make meaning to my point.
So I order “aohhhnnn baguette” and “oohnn petite pain de campagne.” The person behind the counter, a young girl maybe 20 years old, immediately looked at me and corrected my “aohhhhhnn”. I said excuse me and tried to repeat the sound. She corrected me again. At this point, I felt exhausted. She waited for me to try again. All I could muster is, “Mais, vous comprenez, oui?” Basically, “You understand..yes?” In other words, “I have no patience.” She half-smiled, and then promptly handed me my things.
Clearly I’m working with a low bar of tolerance for anything less than genuine kindness in people after the last 12-months.
I’m really trying
I don’t think people understand that when somebody is trying to learn, there are all sorts of thoughts in their head about inadequacy, perceived failure and even shame. Communication is such a critical need between people, and the fear of being unable to communicate is the most unsettling feeling for me here. Having it pointed out in a way as if I’m purposefully choosing to not try is a new flashpoint for me.
This weekend i was in Bordeaux with some friends. I was riding my bike around the city and decided to stop and grab a coffee at Starbucks. (I know. Please don’t gasp. I wanted a mocha.)
As I stood in line to order, I met a young French girl just behind me. We made small talk as we waited. I understood enough of our conversation in French to know she works at a bank, she was born in Brittany and she agrees with me that Bordeaux is a beautiful city…perfect simple conversation for my level of French. She did not speak English, so we managed. I told her learning French felt easier, perhaps because of my Italiano. She said she wished she could speak another language, like English or Italiano. Then she folded her hands and symbolically bowed her head. She said, “Vous essayez.” That means, “You’re trying.” That woman got it! That’s the reaction we need to foster daily–acknowledging complete strangers just for the effort of trying.
From STDs, egoists and psychopathic tendencies
This week I went to see my French physician. Last year, he ordered a number of blood tests, but I never found the time to do them with all of the work on the house and the COVID limitations. I finally went to the lab and scheduled the follow-up appointment this week to review the results. And there were a lot of results.
When you’re a single gay man in France the doctors like to pull out all the stops. The good news is, most of Europe can sleep comfortably tonight. You will be happy to know that I do not have syphilis, gonorrhea or chlamydia. The rest of my laboratory results are exactly where they should be.
I arrive at the doctor’s office early and wait for my name to be called. I have all of my lab reports in hand and am fully prepared to talk about the gold stars I received for everything, including the STDs. After a few minutes, the physician office door opens and a woman doctor asks me to come in to the office. I ask if Dr. Granier was here, and she replied in French, “I am Dr. Granier today.” I immediately realize this is not going to be easy. I sit down, and we begin.
My appointment lasts for over an hour. After the doctor got over the shock of my array of STD tests (Neither of us understood why my doctor ordered all of them), we then talked…a lot.
This is what happens in most European physician visits. There is never a rushed feeling. You sit in what feels like a business office. It doesn’t have that clinical environment one would expect to see in America. I find it much more comfortable. If you want to read about my first medical experience in Torino, Italia, there’s a great post to be found here.
So towards the end of our time together, the doctor asked what I do in France. I told her I write, and that I am in the process of settling into a second home here. She asked if I made a living writing and what do I write about.
I told her I write about my life in a sort of autobiographical way. She then said, “Oh so you are an egoist?” Immiedately, alarm bells went off in my head. I kept calm and responded, “Well I write about my life in Europe since leaving America. It’s not for my ego, but for my recovery.”
Then she asked why I didn’t write about Napoleon or other French history. I wasn’t even sure how to answer that question.
After she heard my full story and what I write about, she said to me in English, “You know in France, if you are still grieving after four years, we consider that you have a psychopathic disorder. You must move-on to a new life.”
Did I hear that correctly..psychopathic? I hoped she meant something kinder, perhaps psychological or psychosomatic, but psychopathic? Was this a lost in translation moment? Did this woman think there was a clinical entrance and exit door to grief?
So again, I held my breath for a moment and avoided folding away from the conversation. I said to her in English, “The least three years have been about trying to move on to something different. It doesn’t mean you forget about what you lost. Writing about this process doesn’t make me psychopathic. It helps me heal.”
I’m not sure if she understood it, but then she said, “Yes, it’s possible that writing is therapy.” And with that, she finished the subject.
She was clueless to the impact her statement could have had on me. She whipsawed me from STDs, European rulers, egotistical behavior and psychopathic tendencies in a matter of minutes, but to her, she remained unphased. I left there feeling that I’m not sorry for writing about grief, and I’m not sorry she thinks I’m an egoist that may have STDs.
Finding my voice and changing my response
In each of these situations, I took a bit more of an offensive versus defensive approach. It seems that perhaps that’s the difference. This isn’t about asking for forgiveness, or saying, “I’m sorry.” This is about finding your inner voice and holding your ground confidently, even if it may counter someone else’s desire.
I recently was talking to a long-time friend of mine, and sharing the subject of this recent blog, I‘m not sorry. It actually hit home with her.
We met on our first day of elementary school, and 45 years later, I still adore this person. She has the same context of growing up in our small town in rural Western Pennsylvania. It was a place that perhaps failed to prepare us fully for how amazing, scary, diverse and wonderful the world is.
We came from industrious blue-collar parents mostly of European descent. Because of that strong European family upbringing, there was a mentality of humility and appreciation for what was. There wasn’t much talk about traveling the world, seeing different places or experiencing different things. Dreamchasers and stargazers weren’t in high demand.
There was also a sense of “duty” to do things that you really did not want to do. If it helped somebody feel better, if it avoided conflict or someone else perceived it as selfless, you did it.
What I realize now is that sense of dutiful acceptance created a tremendous amount of tension in my adulthood. I think much of my upbringing brought me to a place of unreasonable humility and perhaps a sense of shame. Shame for wanting or being something different or simply saying no and setting a boundary. That shows up in how I have been creating safety in this new world.
It seems that once again I am at the beginning of a newer version of myself. Thank you Universe! At 50 years-old, you continue to remind me that I’m far from figuring myself out yet. I’m not sorry it took this long, but perhaps a few years ago, it might have been more helpful.
I realize that in those situations where I swallow more pride than I should, hold my temper when I shouldn’t or bite my tongue, they come back and demand attention. That demand seems to be persistent until you get it inside your soul. I mean really get it deeply: the meaning, the history behind it and the entire point of the lesson.
So after a year in suspended isolation and all of this time to think alone and work on myself a bit more, I don’t think I have left anything that requires an apology. I can comfortably say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry…However, I am trying.”
This post is a tribute to my late husband. He was always helpful in keeping me above the water-line when I wanted to dive deep into something that wasn’t always the best or healthiest way to react. Tomorrow, March 16, Darin will be gone three years. I’m not sure if life has really gotten easier or if grief has lessened these last 36-months. In some ways it seems grief is more defined. It as if it has settled in to stay for the ride of my lifetime, and I’m beginning to adjust to the passenger.
There isn’t a day that goes by that i don’t think about all of the “what-ifs” if Darin was still here. But now I also think of the “what-nots”. I know that there is so much in my life now that I would never have seen or done, and I guess that’s what it’s all about. It’s not whether you prefer this life over the old one, it’s learning to appreciate it for what it is. Be well my friends. Thanks for being part of this life. Sending much love to you. – Luke
I love this post Luke. Seems like you and I are on parallel journeys. Miss you!
Clémence
Clémence… Merci mon ami! Ça va? Oui, Nous marchons sur des chemins similaires. J’espère que tu vas bien … et je pense souvent à toi. Bisous!
Good post. I am so sorry for your loss. That doctor sounds like somewhat of a tool. I do not understand how anyone thinks they should judge anything as personal as how, or how long, one should grieve. I do understand the feelings you brought from your upbringing. I have spent my life trying to be way to accommodating to others without thinking of how disrespectful I was being to myself.
Anne Marie, thank you for your post and your agreement..that doctor was a tool! LOL. The challenge here is so many European doctors are wonderfully talkative and patient..when you’re a patient..but the flipside, you get all sorts of 3rd party opinions. I guess life is a give and get. You are right, I think there are many of us out there that think success is having everyone like us. Hmmmm…I’m still learning that I’m probably not living authentically if everyone likes me. 🙂
Thank you for acknowledging your journey..and I appreciate that you are following mine! Be well!
You too, Luke!
I will keep both you & Darin in my thoughts & prayers tonight. He had the kindest soul of anyone I had ever met. Love & miss you Luke
Thank you Carol, that means a lot today. I know how much Darin enjoyed our conversations across our backyards, and how much you made him laugh with that truly unique Carol sense of humor..a little east coast grit..and a lot of love. Be well my friend – I miss you and love you too!.
Great Post, but don’t apologize for going to Starbucks!
You got me. Do you see how pervasive apologizing can be – when one expects to be judged. It Starbucks of all things! Oh shit..always a work in progress! Thanks, Rick.
Lucca,
You are an amazing man. This post is beautiful on so many levels… you have lived, loved, learned and are alive!!!
So proud to call u a friend.
Be well, stay safe and hug Sophiaaaaa!
Lisa! Thank you. I don’t know where I’d be without all of your support personally and professionally. You have always been part of the living, loving and learning part.
I am proud to call you my friend too – and cannot wait to “festeggiare insieme” in Europe. My love to you!
Wow! You my friend are a rockstar. The people you have encountered here were idiots. I can’t image walking in your shoes nor do I want to. You do you. Take a long as you want with your grief and keep Darin close to you. I don’t live my life for anyone but me & I see you now doing that. It’s a good thing. Keep writing and sharing as I personally love being a part of your journey. Xxxo. Toni
You’re making me smile this morning with my coffee. Thank you. Yes, every once in a while you get a run of crazy people that test your limits. Personally, I think you’d wear my shoes very well.
Thank you for your compliments, Toni. I’m glad we found each other along the way – you enjoy that beautiful Northwest environment. Also, enjoy l’olio italiano that recently arrived.
Luke
🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰. I’m hoping to one day soon share those bottles with you!
Yes!! It will happen..Toni.
My wonderful brother from another mother, I’m so proud of the work you have done, are doing, and will continue to do on yourself and your new life. It’s not easy, but it is empowering. This is a powerful piece you have written and really resonated with me. Many, many hugs and much love to you.
Teresa..you know we were separated at birth, and we’re still trying to find our way back to each other :). Thank you for your loving and kind comments. I will say that I am in a position now (albeit a vulnerable one) where I know I can handle a lot more ambiguity, discomfort and generally those things that life does to wake you. I’m awake..I’m awake! Thank you for responding so well to the post. I’m glad it had an effect on you. Many hugs back to you..and know that no matter where I am, I carry you and your family in my heart. 💜
“I yam who I yam” in the words of Popeye… I lived in France for 20+ years and the perpetual correction never stopped. I had it when, on the airplane there was a choice of water or orange juice. I chose “l’eau” and the flight attendant claimed to not understand what was clearly not “jus d’orange”. I MOVED TO ITALY. It’s lots better.
I love Popeye! Yes..there was always a life lesson in those simple cartoons..and I credit Popeye for my love of spinach! In my experience the italiani do seem less concerned about correction, and more interested in what you have to say. 🙂 It’s funny how they are both amazing places, and culturally different for being neighbors with such shared history. Thanks for following along! Be well.
A beautiful post, cara Luke, thankyou. Thinking of you and Darin today, much love, xx
Cara Christine! Thank you my dear friend. Ti mando un grande abbraccio! Grazie per i tuoi pensi, oggi. A presto! Much love back to you!
That was wonderful to read, it took me out of my imposed solitude here in the US. Your bravery is to be applauded!
That means a lot! Yes, imposed solitude can be a double-edged sword. I’m glad I gave you a bit of a relief from it. It sounds like things are improving in America..and I hope everyone there can return to their regularly scheduled program soon (although I’m not sure we can ever go back to what we were before.). Thank you for your kind comments about bravery…sometimes it feels brave, other times it feels like self-inflicted torture, but those moments are few and far between. Be well and I appreciate you taking the time to drop a note. 🙂
There is so much truth to this. After my son died, I had a limited amount of space in my life for other people’s bullshit and I’ve learned that saying no to it allows me to say yes to something else. Grief will do that to a person. We continue to grieve- and learn- every day. Love and hugs, dear man 🧡
Love you. 💜
Thank you! Sending big love back to you today as well!
The very last sentence (in blue) truly nailed the feelings I also feel since Betty and Darin left us. I still struggle with the “what if”s” a lot, but will keep plugging along. Bless you, Luke, as you continue your journey. Never fear, Darin is at your side. Love, Papa
Dale, Thank you for your note. Yes, after three years i am at a point of coming to terms – but certainly never comfortable. As I wrote, it looks like this spectre of grief is going to be with me for a while, but it reminds me of how fortunate I am to have had the experience. I think about you often, and I’m sending lots of love to you. I agree, Darin was with me the entire day today and every day.
Luke, loved the post and kudos❣️ I’m with you, done apologizing and have learned to add No to my vocabulary. Life is a give and take, and I’m into not “taking it anymore”… your grief is yours and it isn’t up to anyone else to tell you how to respond to it 💕
Love your post. I am sorry for your loss.
Thank you, Mel for your sympathies and your encouragement. I appreciate that your following along. Be well!
Luke, life is about evolving and most people don’t take the chances you’ve taken to overcome your fears but also have some great tangible growth. I admire you so much. You are a gem, a one in a billion and we are so lucky to come along with you for the ride.
I’m working on my dual citizenship for Italy. My dream is to be a little old lady smiling at everyone I meet, everywhere I go. I’ll live there someday, even if it’s just for a year.
Oh, since I’m Italian, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say the French are a tad bit more rude. Just my observation.
Keep on writing. We all enjoy it so much. Even better, write a book.
❤️Susan
Susan, thank you for your support and generous kindness. You, my friend, are also one in a billion! I know the dual-citizenship process is daunting, but if you think it..believe it..the universe always delivers it. When you find that place..you let me know. I’ll come visit and we can sit and smile at strangers together.
It’s interesting about the cultural differences here..the French (and Northern Italy) seem perhaps a bit more reserved..the further south you go, the party starts!
I’m working on that book soon! I’ve made a promise to myself that I plan to keep. It would be a great project for me, and perhaps, somebody will benefit from reading my story. Where it will end – who knows at this point?
Be well and thank you again for your kinds words! Sending love back atcha!
Luke
Dear Luke, it is always refreshing to read your writing! It is almost 29 months since my husband and partner of 41 years passed. I do not say I’m sorry to anyone anymore! My grief is mine and mine alone and no one can tell me how long or short it will last, or that I need to “get over it”! Kenn was my life , and it seems that my love for him increases as the time passes! I began to write prose, paint canvases, continue my italian language lessons. all after he passed! I sold my house in Palm Springs, and moved back to Philadelphia to be with my family! I am the creator of my life and so look forward to visiting my friends in Porto Vaticano, Calabria! Visualizing the cliffs and the sea there , contributes to my healing! When grief visits, I surrender to it and embrace it and remember that my inner-self misses Kenn as much or more than my physical self!I am so sad to hear about lockdowns epecially in Italy, which I miss so much! Hang in there my friend, I salute your courage, and know that there are others like you , moving along at our own pace, trying to figure out who we are now that our loved ones are gone, and opening up so beautifully our own spirituality! I, for one, have learned how to love myself more and always put myself first, so loving others becomes second nature! Blessings, Robert Nickels
Robert, thank you for your wonderful message. I’m happy to see my writing gives you a lift!
I’m sure Kenn is sitting with Darin right now – watching our lives unfold like a Netflix series..and I bet they are both thinking “Bravi!” We are making strides in finding our new lives, with all of that love they left for us to take with us.
Congratulations on finding your space and your voice..and the love for yourself. I hope to visit you in Porto Vaticano presto…and we can toast to our lives before and after. Be well and stay well!
Spring is here..and with it, lots of hope for life to return to something new and different dopo quest’anno di merda! XOXO
Wow! I lmao… ( the French say Mdrrrrr ), dried a tear, …. and really miss you my friend. You always seem to know when I’ve had a rough day, your new post pops up and you leave me grinning from ear to ear! You are so strong! I have the utmost respect for your journey. I’m glad you shifted gears away from “I’m sorry”! You know how much I love Italy and France and the pain I endured learning to speak French in the Bay Area. Keep at it.
They are a wonderful people. But they are have a completely different sociology than we Italians! There is a wonderful small and easy read by a woman named Polly Platt. She wrote a very short book called “French or Foe”. It’s hysterical and illuminating at the same time! We come from the Romans. They are Gauls. If you can’t order it there please message me and I’ll send you a copy! Subido. She’ll clear a few things up.
Thank you for another beautiful and perfectly written entry. Sending you love, elbow bumps, and a prayer you can get a vaccine soon. Stay safe! … and by all means keep writing!
Rob, I’m glad you liked this post my friend! I will say I’m getting a healthy dose of some nasty French expressions. My italian teacher and I take about 15 minutes each lesson and review my “truck-driver” isms…it’s a great way to start the class and release frustrations. Perhaps I need the equivalent in French to deal with overzealous doctors and unaccommodating boulangerie staff!
Actually – you are correct. They are wonderful people..I find myself enjoying the interactions with almost everybody. Just this morning I was on the phone with the pool company who is handling my pool cover. The gentleman is very kind and patient and we muddle through a contract. Last week – I meant to tell him “I want to do business with you.”…Instead, I told him “I want to do you.” Oh boy, i laughed so hard when I realized what I just said to this 65 year-old man. You cannot use the verb “faire” like we do in English. It’s just like fare in italiano. But everytime, i just laugh.
I will add “French or Foe” to my reading list…thank you for the recommendation!
Thanks for the constant encouragement – I’ve made a commitment to throttle my writing up this Spring..so augurami buona fortuna…stay tuned!
Sending love back to you and Keith!
You know who you are – get BOLD, keep writing and don’t hold back and you look great too!!!
AWWWW…thank you Sue! This makes me smile. I’m getting bolder each day. Sometimes I have to collect my strength when I’m not always sure I want to face a challenge, but when you are doing it on your own, you realize..who else is going to be bold for you? It’s a good wake-up call! Be well and thanks for following along!
some wounds are too deep to ever heal. you clean and bandage it so an infection does not take the whole of you. you learn you can live with it and there is a kind of peace in that . as you shared before , it’s growing around it .
life is the antidote . but not everyone is. small mindedness isn’t limited by education. those who love you put their ego away , the rest of them ? vaffanculo. !! love yourself , live your life your way and don’t apologise for it.
BRAVO LUCA BRAVO !
look forward always to your sharing your journey
Luke read Kahlil Gibran’s writings on pain and death from THE PROPHET
a lovely expression of love Gina
Gina! Thank you..i have read some of his writings – but I will go back to the well on the Prophet! Thank you for the recommendation and thanks for your comments. Sending love to you!