While I did not feel I had placed Tracy on a pedestal, I did believe that I had an obligation to uphold her good traits and hope something would happen which could reverse the damage already done. I scoured my daily mail with cautious hope, thinking "Maybe today I'll hear from her"; yet nothing came of that hope. My brother, Todd, was the only person to whom Tracy corresponded after the divorce, which perhaps reflected her inability to face those of us who had known her quite well. She had seen comparatively little of Todd throughout her years of married life, and it was therefore rather curious that she should choose him as the recipient of a note of explanation and regret. At any rate, she stated in her letter that she could no longer live with Norm, though he had been nothing but a good, kind, and loving man; further, she hoped that "Norm's parents" would be open-minded and welcome him back into the family.
Norm was welcomed into the family; indeed, his welcome had never worn thin, despite our dearth of information and surplus of astonishment to hear of the divorce. Time and conversation opened our lidded eyes.
Finally, I accepted the fact that she was never going to write, that she would never see my real hair, that she was as gone for me as if blown from the surface of the earth. I accepted, also, that simplicity and love did not fulfill her needs and that supposedly shared goals, including frugality right down to the cheap brand of syrup, were a farce. I perceived Norm to be the ideal man, or the closest man thereto, and felt that Tracy would later regret her hateful actions as she had regretted other misguided words in her youth; she knew that Norm was a loner and possessed agoraphobic tendencies…. she knew he was willing to work hard for comparatively small rewards; he had no hidden vices or abusive characteristics… and though he was well built and strong, the similarity to his ancestral Vikings ended where their violence began. I realized that while the kettle on the home hearth boiled feverishly, her love was secure and untouchable, but when the fire was reduced to coals and the kettle could be taken from the hearth without scorching her hands, love was polluted by commonality. The need to search for her lost flame seized her mind, yet, because she knew not what she truly sought, her search would continue forever, leaving behind her an insubstantial and endless heap of charred ashes.
I had vastly overemphasized my importance in Tracy's eyes. It was incredibly humbling to be rejected so completely; I thought of Norm and how much worse it must have been for him. Death and divorce were indeed similar, yet in some ways, the latter was more painful. Divorce, while lacking the ultimate permanence of death, is based on the heart-rending fact that one's love is no longer enough, and that he has been left by his mate's choice rather than nature's will and circumstances. Though her love for Norm had vanished with the disappearance of heart palpitations and romantic excitement, I thought I deserved at least a letter of farewell for all of the good times we had shared. I wondered if she had merely upheld a charade of good humor and enjoyment through our excursions; yet, I thought, she would not have invited me to share her free time if she resented my presence.
It takes many hours to develop a friendship, and even so, one's knowledge of the other can never be complete. While compatibility opens friendship's door, love and it's by-products, understanding and honesty, must co-exist as its sustaining force; lacking love, growth stagnates and generally heralds a hurtful parting of the two individuals. If love truly exists in one's mind, however, the love itself cannot cease abruptly even though the other's actions or beliefs are radically contrary to his own; the beloved part of the individual still remains, residing side by side with his formerly concealed, unsavory propensities.
My acceptance of Tracy's entire personality paralleled extreme disappointment. With no prompting from my parents, I looked upon her new lifestyle and final interaction with the family and Norm as disagreeable and despaired that the circumstances would not have been different. Her image, though tainted, never shattered in my mind, and for a time, I kept loving… and mourning… the person who I had believed her to be. Disappointment alone could not eradicate the lovely memories spanning three years.
After suffering a substantial loss, it sometimes seems impossible that a replacement of equal or greater value could ever be found, and attempts to compare the incomparable often end in frustration. If emotional pain is not allowed to stagnate within the inner being and clog the mind, a person can be open to others without radiating vulnerability. No one forgets a past hurt; after a wound heals, scar tissue remains as a subtle reminder and effectively warns the individual against potential threats of similar nature. Only a person lacking the will to overcome and grow beyond past anguish is truly mortally wounded, for his wound is not only self-inflicted, but also infested with litter long decayed.
I had to direct my thoughts and energy toward positive elements in life, accepting the past and adapting to the present. The future was no longer the shining star it had been in my childhood, for it was uncertain and impenetrable. Short-term goals were more easily realized. The future had a nasty habit of rearranging one's plans; life changed so fast that it left one groping for stability as if spun furiously on the head of a top. Disliking such emotional turbulence, I tried to buffer life's hurtful potential by dealing with each day as the unique parcel of hours and events it proved to be. Adaptability was definitely one of my more useful characteristics.
With Tracy's departure, I had not consciously determined to find a replacement for my severed emotional attachment. I knew such behavior on my behalf would not only have been uncharacteristic of me but futile as well; people were not like spark plugs. However, as the months progressed, the hole wherein Tracy's memory resided slowly filled and was replenished, just as a mined crater will be reclaimed by nature and gradually become a thing of beauty rather than an eternally gaping hole of waste. I was filled with strength and confidence from budding health and vitality; I was filled with the undying love of my family, but more than all else, I discovered that, with Norm, I had in reality, lost virtually nothing.
Mar. 15, 1977… I went to Norm's house and we made blueberry pancakes for supper. We talked about a lot of things.