I was getting off the subway the other morning at 33rd street when I saw a woman in her late twenties approach. Armed with her white, single-ride MetroCard, she eyed the train that was still waiting in the station. She had the time, but did she have “it” — that MetroCard magic? Her quick swipe was greeted with a thud. “Oh no,” she said, wilting, her face crinkling with stress. She tried again, swiping slower, then faster. People behind were already turning up the heat. She didn’t have “it” — was it self-confidence, luck, or skill? Whatever it might be, it was sorely lacking, and now she was just flailing away, like a gambler stuffing her last quarters into a slot machine hoping for a reprieve.
I felt for her. I’ve been wondering too if I’ve lost my mojo.
In late November, two days after my wife died, I fell off a bicycle, completely tearing the ulnar collateral ligament in my left thumb. It was the end of a tough year, and it was only fitting that I was going to see the end of this year out with a cast on my left arm. I got myself to a good surgeon* who, two weeks later, operated and reattached the ligament. I was set up for recovery, 2012 was coming, but I still felt like I had a target on my back.
Now that the cast is off and I have regained some of the lost strength and flexibility in my thumb, I’m starting to feel a bit more confident. But unlike a thumb injury, the road map for recovery from grief seems less clear. It’s not a straight line kinda thing. Hope Edelman, in Motherless Daughters writes, “Mourning works like any series of cycles: One ends and a new one begins, slightly different from its predecessor, but with the same fundamental course.” I get that. Rather than proceed through the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, Kubler-Ross) in an organized march, it feels more like a bee visiting flowers, it’s more improvisational (I can relate to that!): land over here on denial, now a visit to depression, back to denial, a little taste of anger. There may be no real end, no resolution..I’m OK with that.
But what about regaining my touch with the MetroCard? This is important! I never done it, but I compare the Metrocard swipe to walking on hot coals — it’s all about the attitude, the confidence with which you approach. Now, before I swipe, I visualize the happy, green “GO” circle, and it seems to be working.
At Canal Street two tourists were having trouble swiping. People were gathering, a train was approaching. A short, neatly dressed man counseled them through gate, “What message are you getting? Too slow, try it faster.” Nothing seemed to work. I was about to offer my own ideas when the gentleman motioned them to follow him. He led the two women to the emergency exit door where he calmly pushed it open, allowing them to walk through…that works too!
*Dr. Steven Beldner, Hand Surgery Center
