Trying to find a piece of the past

It’s impossible to live in the present if you’re caught up in the past.

I read that quote a decade ago in a book about grieving. It resonated with me because at the time, three years after my husband Andy passed away, I was still having a hard time moving on.

I did everything one is supposed to do to get on with life. I made new friends and tried things I had never done before. I succeeded in staying busy, going home at night only when I was tired and was sure I could sleep.

But I went home to a house that screamed, “He’s gone.” Every room of my home reminded me of my husband’s absence. That’s because every little thing I looked at brought to mind our history together.

I would arrive home in a peaceful mood then see something like the San Francisco trolley music box that stirred up memories of my happy trip with Andy. Then I was trapped in the past, drowning in too many memories.

I could make myself happy in multiple ways, but in my home, surrounded by memories of Andy, I was all too conscious of the hole in my life.

After a while I realized the only way to leave the past was to make a clean break.

I did that, alright. I moved to Florida where there would be no memories reminding me of what was.

Anyone who ever tries to break from the past to make a new life knows it’s not easy. I’ve never smoked but I imagine one way to leave the past behind is somewhat like quitting cigarettes: A complete break is necessary to succeed. At least it was for me.

Well, I do admit to temporary insanity in the way I went about it. I resolved I would take nothing with me to Florida except what would fit in my SUV.

I cleaned out my closet, taking all my career clothes to Goodwill. I did the same thing with everything in my house. I gave everything away to charity, determined not to take anything with me that will bring along ghosts from the past.

Well, I told you it was temporary insanity.

I arrived in Florida without the basics I needed. What was I thinking?

The first night in my new home the only furniture I had was a sofa bed I bought the day I signed the papers for my new home. That provided me with place to sit while I admired the stunning view from my backyard. Then it became my bed at night.

I went to the supermarket for something easy to prepare, but when I got home I realized I didn’t have any eating utensils. Fortunately, the clerk had put a plastic fork in the bag.

Little by little I bought what I needed and made a new home for myself. And there definitely was no part of the past there to prevent me from living in the present.

I’ve always been a fairly rational person and in a strong sense, I did what I had to do when I made a complete break from the past.

I didn’t break way from those who were dear to me, of course. I continue to stay close to my friends. And even those I haven’t seen in years came to Florida with me, even if they don’t know it. They are locked forever in my heart where I store the gratitude I have for the many wonderful people who graced my past.

To me, people are forever but stuff is just stuff. I could leave behind almost all of the possessions from my past with only an occasional regret.

On occasion I find myself missing things from the past such as the perfect sofa that was so comfortable or the cook pot I used for decades.

Now, I find myself missing a favorite CD from my past—the “Dust of our Forefathers Bones” CD made by Lenape Indian Jim Beer and the River.

I was privileged to interview and get to know Jim and members of the Lenape Indian turtle clan. They took me with them on a memorable kayak journey down the Delaware River and that trip made Jim’s CD come alive with meaning.

Whenever I listened to it at night, it calmed me.

But the CD disappeared when I moved.

No problem, I figured. The Internet is a wonderful place where we can find anything. In the past I found old books no longer in print and old movies from decades ago.

But no matter how much I search, I can’t find that CD. Nor is there current contact information for Jim Beer.

I did find a Lenape Native American site offering some merchandise for sale, including one of Jim’s CDs, even though it wasn’t the one I want. I sent in my check with high hopes but it was returned as undeliverable.

I tried Facebook, too, with no luck. In this day and age, I didn’t think a well-known musician and his music could disappear but I’m finding only dead ends.

Now I have another idea. Maybe readers can help. Is there anyone out there who can help me contact Jim or find that CD?

I can be reached at newsgirl@comcast.net.