Column: Something About Nothing

I get lost easily. Let me qualify that by saying I get lost easily in parking lots, corn mazes, hallways in big buildings and my customers’ homes.

I can read a map and navigate easily to any destination. The problem is that once I am at that destination I forget where I park. I forget which door to use and I forget which way to turn in the hallway leading out of the doors of offices.

I wander around aimlessly trying to look like I know what I am doing but in reality I am lost.

I do not know why I am so challenged when it comes to parking lots, mazes and hallways. Streets, buildings, freeways are easy. I remember directions and can find my way time and time again without a map.

Perhaps it is that I don’t pay attention when I navigate parking lots and hallways. To find an address or read a map causes me to concentrate on that particular detail at the time I am doing it. When I park a car or visit someone I am usually distracted thinking ahead to what I am going to do next.

It used to be easy. I always had one of my kids with me and they could always lead me where I needed to go. I didn’t need to concentrate. Years after they have left home I still carried that security with me until one recent day. I have to remember they are getting older too and perhaps getting more like me.

It was a beautiful sunny Ikea day. One of my children drove me to Ikea and we parked in the parking lot. It was a gazing trip with no purchases in mind. We traveled the aisles of the store. I get lost in stores too but Ikea has the wonderful arrows.

We left the store and proceeded to look for our car. Now, I don’t always recognize my kids’ cars and remember the fact that I rely on them to show me the way. The way was not to be seen. We wandered and wandered and wandered looking for our car. Didn’t we park here?

We decided to go back to the store and retrace our steps. Retracing our steps took us to the fact that we exited through the wrong door and our car was on the other side of the hallway. It must be an age thing. I no longer can rely on my children to lead me down the right aisle and out the right door to the right car.

I find my life is sometimes like finding my car in a parking lot. I get lost. I wander around, flitting from one thing to another not finding my way. When this happens I drift until I can get enough courage to ask for help. It is hard admitting I cannot always do it alone. I don’t want to bother anyone, and I do not want to be a burden to anyone. Why is asking for help so hard?

We all have times in our lives when we are lost. Occasionally we have to rely on someone else to help us get through the door. The important thing to remember is not that we had to ask for help but that we got through the right door.

 

Wells resident Julie Seedorf’s column appears every Monday. Send email to her at thecolumn@bevcomm.net.