Remotely Love by Lori Thorn
Learn from the Past
“It isn’t simply living through experiences that makes us wiser or more capable. It’s the awareness of those experiences that allow for growth.”
Two and a half years ago…
Hazel and Alexwere in the backseat of an Uber headed to their apartment in Elmdale, a trendy area outside of downtown Chicago. They had gone to an upscale restaurant on a date to celebrate Alex’s recent promotion, even ordering the wine-tasting menu to pair with their meal. Both of them were speaking animatedly. Loudly. Garnering annoyed glances in the rearview mirror from their driver that they didn’t notice.
Hazel’s phone rang.
She answered.
This was when her soul left her body.
Phrases pummeled at her, “Is this Hazel Rogers, daughter of Larry and Elle Rogers?” “Can you come to St. Joseph’s hospital?” “There’s been an accident.”
Every momentof that night was somehow a blur and a sharp unending pain. Alex had taken charge. Told the Uber driver to take them to the hospital, helped her out of the car and into the ER, and explained who they were there to see. He held her hand the entire time.
They were led backto a private room off the surgery wing and told a doctor would be in soon to update them. Waiting was agony. Not knowing what had happened was a constant needle being pressed into, removed, and pushed back into Hazel’s gut.
There wasa knock on the door, and two men entered the room. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”
But this could not bereal; Hazel didn’t even know what had happened. She tried to explain they must have the wrong room. She had been called because her parents were here, but she didn’t even know why yet, and she was waiting to talk to someone who would have that information.
Alex huggedher in a way that told her the truth. She didn’t know the story, but her parents were dead. Hazel fell to her knees, sobbing and heaving uncontrollably. She vomited on the floor, on her hands. She didn’t care.
Alex helpedher stand and practically carried her to an office they were led to. Someone had cleaned her up. She sat there, empty and numb, as she was told her parents had been in a car crash. The surgeon explained their injuries and what he and his team had done to try to repair them, but none of it mattered. She heard them only vaguely, as if from a distance, as her mind swayed with disbelief.
The followingdays spent planning the funerals seemed to rush by in huge swaths until they were met by a solid wall of time and would screech to a halt. The first wall of time Hazel sped into happened while talking to the officiant, Jill.
Jill, Hazel, and Alex were seated around the dinner table. Jill asked logistical questions about the ceremony- the anticipated number of attendees, if any technology was necessary for a slideshow, if there would be portraits, and how the eulogy should be treated.
It happened when she asked, “Could you tell me about some of your favorite memories with them?”
Hazel saw her life in memories, and her parents were always there. They. Were. Always. There. Images swam in her mind of birthdays, Christmases, and graduations, but also dinner every night, reading together, and being bored on the couch. Even as an adult, she FaceTimed with her parents every evening after work. They had dinner together twice a week. She remembered their smiling faces from her phone and how goofy they would be dancing lamely with each other in the kitchen, gesturing for her to join. Her memories didn’t seem to stop; instead, they changed to a sort of foretelling. She pictured every event in the future and what those memories would look like. She imagined her wedding without her parents, having kids without them, and buying a house they would never enter. She realized her children would never know their grandparents. She realized she would never be able to ask them questions about anything.
Then she realized she must have been sitting in silence for a long time, here, at the kitchen table. Except she hadn’t. Only a few seconds had passed.
Everything seemed meaningless,and Hazel was empty. She had stopped crying. She had stopped caring. She felt awash in a vast cruel sea, anchorless.
When she tried to return to work after her bereavement time, she found it impossible to sit through meetings or to put effort into anything. When she could think, she couldn’t prevent her mind from playing the reel of what her parents and her would miss. She would settle into despair or anger, which would lead to guilt. Even though she wouldn’t, couldn’t, talk about it, her supervisor at the time obviously saw her struggle and referred her to a therapist through the Employee Assistance Program.
Alex had been the one who dialed the number for her. After she had not emerged from her office by 6pm, he had come in to find her motionless, staring at the screen. That therapist had determined to put her on a short leave while she worked through “the acute phase” of her grief and referred her to someone local to get the support she needed.
When she started seeing Ethan,her new therapist, it was less like she was going to see him and more like she was being bodily delivered to his office. Alex made sure she was on time for all her appointments. Slowly, surprisingly, for it seemed against all odds and even the nature of what Hazel knew to be true, she began to feel more energetic. Time still jolted her, but she had enough energy to make coffee in the morning. She even wanted to taste the coffee, she realized.
With Ethan’s encouragement, she began to reframe her thinking. Instead of ‘my parents won’t see their grandkids grow up,’ she would think, ‘my parents prepared me to be a great Mom.’ This was not easy work, but she put her efforts toward it.
Weeks passed, and she discovered her gratitude for the experiences she had. This came at the cost of a few dark days when she shared the idea with Ethan, and he responded, “We have the most to lose when we have so many things we’re grateful for. People who live in fear of loss do so because of their happiness and fulfillment.” She knew he meant it as a way to validate her experience, but it struck her as a promise of loss in the future too. Still, she was grateful for being part of a close family and all the time they had spent together. She was particularly thankful they had at least met, known, and loved Alex deeply. They wouldn’t be there for the wedding, which was tentatively scheduled for next year, but Alex was already a part of the family. They’d been dating for 5 years, after all. Then there was how he had taken care of her these weeks, making sure she bathed and ate, being patient and attentive.
She also started feeling grateful for her career at FutureApp. They had also taken care of her, first by granting her bereavement time, then by extending the EAP services and approving a leave of absence. There had been no doubting her, no requests for her to tie up loose ends, just unwavering support. When a month passed, she returned to work and was met with such a stunning force of kindness it overwhelmed her. Her friends had reached out immediately as if they were waiting for her status to turn to Available, not about work-related things, but checking in on her. Meg and Frank had made a collection of funny memes for her that they used to give an entire timeline of all the things that happened in the Comms department while she was away. Sam had invited her and Alex to have a virtual dinner with him. “It’s your first day back. If you don’t have plans, please let me order you some delivery, and we can eat and watch an episode of The Office together. Come on, end your first day by taking it easy.” She couldn’t refuse, and they had agreed to SyncUp at 6:30pm.
Alex returned from work at 5:30pm, and Hazel was sitting on the couch, waiting to tell him about their dinner plans. He turned toward the coat rack and started hanging his jacket. “How was your first day back?”
“It was actually really good. We’ll be getting some delivery soon and….”
Alex interrupted, “I’m glad it was good.” He turned to face her, and she knew something was wrong. Maybe he was exhausted from taking care of her for so long. Perhaps she hadn’t looked at him properly since that night. Or could it be his promotion wasn't going well, and he had kept it a secret so she wouldn’t worry?
“What’s wrong, Alex? You look….” Dark, resigned, cold. She couldn’t put her finger on it, “unwell.”
His eyes swept upward, but he focused them behind Hazel. “We need to talk.”
“Of course.” She gestured for him to join her on the couch. She rubbed her hand on his back when he sat beside her.
“There’s no easy way to say this. I’m…” he seemed to draw in determination to continue, “I’m moving.”
“What?” Her hand dropped from his shoulder, “What are you talking about? Why would we move?”
He leaned away from her and stared at his feet. “No. I’m moving. It’s part of the promotion. I have to move to Seattle.”
“Well, I mean, this is big news, but FutureApp doesn’t care where I work. I can move too.” Panic flooded her senses, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“Hazel, I don’t love you anymore.” He said it quickly as if forcing it out hastily was the only way he could have spoken it at all.
The room was spinning.
He continued, “I didn’t tell you before because of what happened. I couldn’t leave you. You needed me. I asked them to postpone my start date, and I’ll… I’ll always love you in a way.”
Hazel’s voice was frantic, “No. No, why didn’t you tell me before then? We celebrated. Went to dinner. We laughed in the car! We were happy….”
“I was confused.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know how I felt.”
The doorbell rang.
“And you thought the best way to figure things out was to not talk to me at all about it?”
“I needed it to be my decision. This was the hardest decision of my life.”
Hazel sat cradling her head in her hands. She couldn’t bear to look at Alex.
The doorbell rang again. “Who is at the damned door right now?” Alex hissed. He answered it and found the bag of Chinese food Sam had ordered them.
“Sam ordered us takeout,” she looked at the clock, then returned her vision to the coffee table, “We’re supposed to be having dinner with him in a SyncUp in 15 minutes.”
Alex turned to her from the door. “I don’t know what else to say. I’ll have my stuff packed by the end of the week. I’m… I’m going to go.” And he left.
She didn’t knowwhy she did it, but she grabbed the Chinese food and logged into SyncUp. She was several minutes early, so she queued up a random episode of The Office to stream.
“I’m going to have to start coming to our meetings earlier, so I can beat you in.” Sam had joined seconds after she had selected the episode, also early.
Hazel quirked one side of her mouth up in a grin and intensified her gaze, “You’ll never beat me! Bwahahaha!”
“Where’s Alex?”
“He had to leave.” She was feeling a familiar emptiness but fighting it. “We can go ahead and eat.”
Sam’s face was contemplative. He looked like he might ask something but said, “Okay, hit the play button, Hazelberry.”
She guffawed. “What did you call me?”
Sam blushed. “Umm, do you drink tea, by chance?”
Hazel had no idea why he was asking about tea. “Yes, I mean, yes, I love tea, actually, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Hazelberry is one of my favorite teas. It’s a pu-erh.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry; it just slipped out.”
“It’s okay. I don’t think I’ve tried a pu-erh before. I’ll have to check it out.”
“They’re pretty unique; fermented teas. Let me know if you like it. Anyway, let’s watch!”
She pressed play, and they started eating their takeout and adding commentary to the show. Hazel felt The Office was a good pick for this evening, accidentally good, but it was easy to zone out with. It was natural to talk and laugh with Sam about it.
It was easy until Pam walked across a fire pit on the beach. Hazel’s chest constricted. She had thought she had no tears left, but her cheeks were wet.
“Pause the show.” Sam’s voice was commanding but tender. She hit pause. Hazel was searching for the words but was surprised when Sam spoke first, “When you said he had to leave… He left?” There was an understanding between them. Hazel nodded her head. Sam stood up, going off camera. She heard a loud clanging sound, a sharp inhale, then saw him run past the screen. He called to her, “I’ll be right back!”
She couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. Her curiosity distracted her enough that the tears stopped flowing. Sam returned and dropped back into his seat; she saw a flash of white on his hand, but before she could inquire about it, he asked, “What do you need? Do you want to talk, or not, or later?” He added, almost to himself, while he shook his head, “He’s a fucking idiot.”
Hazel answered in a sigh, “I honestly don’t know what I need. It only happened right before we met, and I’m so, so tired.” She shouted, “I’m so tired of feeling like this!” It was a truth, and saying it aloud, even in the freshness of the situation, sieved some of the hurt from her.
Sam looked at her with such care, his voice low, “How do you feel?”
“A thousand despicable things.” Her eyes were fearful. “Empty, meaningless, unwanted, deceived, surprised, but mostly alone.” Once she started talking, she found it hard to stop. It was a little embarrassing to lay this at the feet of her mentor and bosses boss, but the more she spoke, the more room she had for relief to rush in. The way Sam listened to her felt warm and safe, so she kept going.
It wastwo weeks later when she made the move to Crestwood. She had always loved living in Chicago, but it had nothing left for her. Hazel wasn’t usually impulsive, but she yearned for new surroundings and a tabula rasa for her life. She had made a list of traits she believed she might enjoy. Somewhere smaller than Chicago, artsy, good food was a must. She located several candidate cities, but Crestwood stuck in her mind.
She took a week to sell her large furniture, packed her car, and made the 10-hour drive to Crestwood. She hadn’t found a place to rent before leaving, so she checked into an Extended Stay America while she figured out living arrangements.
Hazel moved into a small,older house on the outskirts of town a few weeks later. She was carrying boxes up the front porch steps when her phone buzzed. Alex's Facebook status announced he was In a Relationship.