Note: This topic is particularly on my mind right now – I have just had a friend of 20 years drift away. I held on to the illusion that we were still on the same wavelength for about a year. Then I finally had to admit – we just weren’t going down the same road any more. Eventually, I let it go and began to move on, but it has been troubling nonetheless! Oddly, I had just met the friend around the same time this piece was written.
(Written July 25, 1990)
At times on life’s journey, our path may converge with that of another traveler, so that, for a time, we walk side by side. We can communicate. We talk about the rocks along the way, share the smooth sections, and because we are so close, we seem to share the same experience, to walk the same path.
We may have similar feelings about a particular part of the journey. Sorrow at seeing a third party depart for another path. Fear about a steep climb over a rocky segment. Joy at the accomplishment of a climb. We build trust in one another as we help each other over the rocky spots. Occasionally we may stop, look into each others eyes, and say nothing – yet feel the affection of being at this place and in this space – together. Sometimes words spoil the moment, so we may silently shake hands or hold hands, as seems appropriate, then turn and walk on.
Yet there is a limitation to the sharing of a path. We each see from our own eyes, translating signals to our own brains, having our own sensations of the gravel of the path under our own feet. And so, the sum of the mental and emotional recordings of the journey will be unique for each traveler, even though they be walking closely together.
After a time, the accumulation of these unique experiences may lead one to yearn to explore a path leading South. The other may be content to move along the same path as before. Or both may feel a yen at the same time, one path ten degrees to the East, one ten degrees to the West. Whatever – the paths begin to diverge. Many times each path is valid, each has merit. Or possibly one traveler senses intuitively the present path is uncomfortable, becoming too regular, or even bending back the way it came, and wishes to go another way. The reasons vary.
At first, the two travelers can still see each other on their separate paths, and are reassured. They once again make eye contact, and everything seems almost as close as before. Yet they can no longer lend physical support to avoid obstacles which may arise.
The new path leads to new acquaintances. Quite naturally those new fellow travelers come to be relied upon for support. There are new shared experiences. As the traveler moves further along, the new input, new triumphs and challenges have their way, gradually changing the path walker.
Then one day, at an intersection of two paths, the traveler joyfully spots his old companion of before approaching along the other path. They draw near, and stand looking at each other. The traveler longs to share his new triumphs with the other. Yet something has changed. Something indefinable. What is it? The eyes. They’re not accessible, laughing and sparkling over shared joy. They appear cool, closed off, guarded. The eyes of a stranger.
The traveler senses the other does not wish to share in his joy. The different paths have changed them both – some intangible differences wall them off from each other. The traveler quickly closes off into a self protective pose.
The other walks off down his own path, not looking back, not bidding farewell. The traveler knows he must stay on his own path, does not wish to follow the other, but is saddened by the departure. Far off, the other glances briefly back, puts a hand up to wipe an eye, then disappears over the knoll.
The traveler does not try to follow the other, to recapture the former time. He has seen through the illusion of the shared path – his journey has taught him that, and he knows he must go his own way.
He feels the loss. Not regret; not bitterness. A sadness – an aware sadness, of things he cannot change. Yet mingled with that, if he has traveled far and wisely, is an appreciation – of the richness of the time they spent together – the ability to see that time as a gift, and to hold it as valuable. So, he takes his gift with him, lets the other person go, and, looking back to his own path, travels on.
———–
Goodbye, old friend!
Thoughts Along The Road to Healing 
Hi Dan,
Just reading your blog, Letting Go…… So sad so painfull.
When my relationship with Christ deepened My children ( all adults) moved away from me emotionally and though I still have some contact with them there is a wall between us which can still cause pain. Being family I still have to have contact, births, weddings deaths,. I need to strengthen myself yet love unconditionally, only by gift from God. Keeping myself stable afterward is the “biggie”.
Mary
Mary – Thank you for your kind and powerful words! Yes, letting go can be tough! I hurt when you say your children all moved away from you! I’m sure that any family contact would be painful and need some recovery afterward! I’m glad that my post gave you some comfort with that process.
Dealing with this very thing right now. You explained it in a beautiful way. Thank you – the perspective helps.
Thank you so much for sharing! Yes, when it is something current that we’re dealing with, it helps to have the perspective! Amazing how this old article helped me for what I’m going through today! 🙂
At each new “Y” in my path, I have had friends who have chosen not to continue down the path with me. This happened to me just in the past 3 years. When I started exploring the internet and started my own blog, one of my closest, dearest friends was threatened by the new direction that I chose to take. Even today, she tries to get me to write in a notebook about what I am feeling, about what’s going on in my life rather than on my blog.
She hasn’t acknowledged it but she got very, very angry with me for awhile because I chose to do something (writing my blog) that she isn’t comfortable with. She has a computer but refuses to learn how to use it.
I still love her dearly but I don’t share as much of myself as I once did with her. She recently told me that she has missed me. That is as close as she has ever come to admitting that our relationship is different. It has changed.
When I started this leg of my journey, I invited her to come along with me. She silently declined. I grieved for the loss, for the differences. For 15 or more years, she was one of my closest friends. When another friend died over 4 years ago, this friend retreated into her comfort zone. I watched her do it and for awhile, I was okay with staying there with her.
At the end of 2 years, I was ready to let go of the friend who had died and start moving forward again. Finally in the last 6 months, my friend has begun to come out of the isolation that she was in and start to live again. I am happy for her. Something in our relationship is different. I don’t trust her as much as I did. As close as we are, I don’t share everything that is me with her like I used to. Leaving others behind or watching them go down another path is sad. It is a loss and has to be grieved.
Patricia – Another commonality we share! Isn’t it interesting how your friend wasn’t supportive of your blog? I can’t imagine why – because you share so wonderfully – but maybe that was it. Some people don’t want the truth exposed or discussed. I had several friends from church try to talk me out of going to the ACA meetings! Eventually I had to stay away from a number of those people. Like you, I invited them on my journey. One even came to an ACA meeting, qualified to be there, and never went back or talked about it again.
The friend I had in mind when I did this post is someone I had known in recovery for many years, and grew more uncomfortable as I continued to work on my recovery, while he sort of stopped along the way. Yes, I know what you mean about not sharing as much like with your friend who came back around some. With my friend, that was one of the clues I needed to step away was that I didn’t feel as comfortable sharing what was really going on. It was more and more met with a neutral response.
Though it happens along the way – it never stops being bothersome. I had one friend who I really trusted. She and I talked every week for 10 years. Then she began to be more and more distant, and finally pushed me away completely about 6 years ago. I never hear from her any more, and when I tried a couple of times to contact her, she was polite like she would be with a casual acquaintance. I’ve stopped trying to connect, but still think of her and miss her occasionally!
Nice blog, Dan. I am impressed. It is good to see you letting the world read about the wisdom you have inside. What a gift.
Thanks Nick – I’m glad you are enjoying this blog! Interestingly, when Carl and I reconnected through your ’80s group, we started emailing back and forth. I wrote him a response about “inner child” and he said I ought to make that a blog entry. And the blog was born from that. So you have an integral part in this blog being here! 🙂
Dan, This really spoke to me, partly in terms of friends who have come and gone from my life, more so for the sponsor who departed from my life many years ago. I remember thinking when he first became my sponsor that it was not wise to pick someone so old; he just might die. Indeed he did do that, and I was devastated. Yet, he had left me many gifts and much wisdom which still speaks to me in the back of my mind from time to time. I just checked the site on the web and the elegy I wrote about him is still there:
Francis — A Second Father
http://www.webhealing.com/hon/carl.html
Carl – Great to see you on here, and thank you so much for your reflections on “Letting Go.” Wow – I just read your elegy about Francis, and it gave me even more depth perception on him as a man, and how he supported you as a man! What wonderful words, spoken from the heart, that you shared in that piece. I feel as if I know Francis, and see how he influenced so many!
Carl, thank you for sharing the link to your words about your friend Francis. He sounds like the kind of sponsor that I was blessed to have a few years ago. Those kind of people make such an impact upon our lives and our recovery. I lost my sponsor to sudden death. She was murdered by someone she was trying to help. It took me a few years to completely grieve her death. Her life, as well as her death, have greatly impacted my life. I wrote about Kathy in my The Most Influential Person series on my blog. Thanks for your most recent comment on my blog.
Patricia, I read your writing about Kathy on your blog. So you know too how precious it is to have someone in your life like that, even if it is for only a short time. Thanks for sharing that with me.
I have never been able to replace Francis with another sponsor. I tried a couple of times, but it never worked. I have learned to talk with friends like Dan however as I need to share.
A year or two (I don’t remember exactly how long it was.) after Kathy died I quit going to Al-Anon and Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACA) meetings. The ACA group soon disintegrated because of people’s fears about Kathy’s murder. She had been a part of that group. ACA was where I met her husband. He was my very first sponsor and the one who directed me to go to Al-Anon. When I met Kathy, she became my sponsor until her death. After her death, I knew I needed another sponsor but I had to work my way though trust issues again first. Those trust issues were with God because of her murder. I was angry as Hell at God for letting it happen.
I got another sponsor but didn’t really use her for very long before I quit Al-Anon. I didn’t have the strong ties to that sponsor that I had to Kathy.
After 10 or so years of not going to meetings, a friend who had recently divorced asked me to go to Al-Anon meetings with her. We went for a few months and then the friend’s work schedule got busy and we just didn’t feel a connection to the people in the group that we were going to.
Someone told us about another Al-Anon group. We went and now just celebrated our first year in Al-Anon with this wonderful group of people. I wrote an article about choosing the sponsor that I now have. (The article is called “Out Of My Comfort Zone—A New Al-Anon Sponsor”) She is a great lady and sponsor. She knew me when I first went to Al-Anon about 20 years ago. She knew Kathy and she knows that I am an incest survivor. I will soon be starting my 4th Step with this new sponsor. The trust level is being built between she and I. I don’t have the trust level and connection that I did with Kathy yet.
I am still working through my fear of calling her when I need help. I keep her updated on what is going on in my life by printing out each of my blog articles as I write them. I give them to her at my Wednesday night Al-Anon meetings. She isn’t a computer person. I am interested to see what my 4th Step will bring up this time and how it will be different from my original 4th Step that I did years ago with my first sponsor.
Patricia and Carl – Yes, the sponsor relationship can be an amazing experience, and I’ve had something similar to your experiences! I had the most amazing man named Bob that was my sponsor in ACA for about 10 years. He took me far beyond what you would traditionally think of as sponsor work, and gave me some life lessons that are coming to fruition right now! He prepared my way! I too have never been able to successfully replace him. I think I was just afraid to try – that no one would ever measure up to the loving support I got from him. At the end of a call I would thank him for his time, and he would say “Dan, you’ve made my day!” I didn’t understand that until I started sponsoring others, and when I would be blessed to hear someone connect the pieces and have a new awareness, I understood what Bob had been saying! Bob was just the right person for me, and I am hugely blessed for the time spent with him!