My Begats

When I was a kid, I heard about a section in the Bible called the begats.  It was supposed to be about birth order.  So and so begat so and so.

When I googled the begats, I found that they’re genealogies that “trace who came from whom”.  They appear in “Genesis, Chronicles, and the Gospels, especially Matthew and Luke.”  That means it’s more than just one story.  Begat references are found in several places.  One source said they “help organize the Bibles’ stories.”  I don’t read the Bible, so I don’t really know.

If that’s how things were organized, they help explain how things change.  Time has a hand in what and when it happens.  My life over the last year is a great example.  I wanted things to change so I started living differently.  One change begat another and before I knew it, my life is indeed different.

I joined a Memoir Writers group shortly after Ruth died. I’d been writing for five years but never read anything out loud. I shared some of my stories with the group. Strangers became friends, and without planning to do so, the group became my safe haven.  I could read my stories, shed a few tears with them, and not worry about being judged.

Last winter I was still struggling with Ruth’s loss.  It had been over two years, and I spent a lot of time feeling sorry for myself. I was both angry and sad. I posted a blog on January 12th and outlined eight things that I had begun to do to change my life.  I realized that I was the only one who could change it. I was eating differently, exercising more, clearing out some kitchen drawers, learning how to use my I-pad more effectively, planned to reconnect with a therapist, and joined new singles groups.  This description was number seven on a list of eight items that I outlined almost twelve months ago.

One of the new group meetings is for people who find themselves alone because of the loss of a spouse.  Some through death.  Some through divorce.  They meet once a week for two hours.  There are about two-dozen people in the group.  Everyone was very welcoming, and the leader is well organized.  I plan to attend each week.  There’s one other guy in the group.  He attended his first meeting this week as well.  We learned that we’re the first males to join.  It’s always been women only.  We’re going to be trail blazers.

I became invested in the group and looked forward to each meeting.  Everyone is just like me.  They’ve come from different backgrounds and become single in different manners but were all looking for something new.  They wanted to leave their old lives behind and move forward.

If their spouse had died like mine, they were trying to make sense of a world that changed without their input. If you lived long enough and loved enough you know that grief is complicated.  My new friends know that. I believe that those who find themselves alone because of divorce experience grief as well.  It all sucks.

Loss has a way of helping you clarify what really matters.  I’ve become more intentional. I’m open to conversations and relationships that wouldn’t have existed if I hadn’t lost Ruth.  In the process, I’m learning more about myself.  The ache of loss isn’t gone, but I’m learning to live with it. I have new routines and interests.

The singles group that I referenced as item number seven in my January 12th list of eight, has become very important.  The “well organized leader” I mentioned is Barbara. We’ve developed a personal relationship.  We both lost someone and our losses became the catalyst for looking for someone new. We’re very lucky to have found one another. Each loss became a begat.

The man and I that joined an all-ladies’ group last January are facilitating groups of our own.  We’ve grown strong enough to help others develop their new beginning.  It’s a gift that we’re happy to share.

Later this evening, seventeen people are coming to my house to kick off the new year.  Eleven months ago, I didn’t know any of them.  Now I love them all.  If we hadn’t met, this wouldn’t be happening.  I don’t know what they’d be doing, but I’d still be feeling sorry for myself.  You can’t know what that’s like unless you’ve been there.

Making new friends is an opportunity. One good friendship can begat another. When you let new people into your world, they introduce you to new ideas and sometimes new parts of yourself.  They don’t erase what came before; they simply help you step forward into something new and that’s a good thing.