LIFE WITHOUT HIM | COPING WITH LOSS
"I want to make it a night like it used to be,
when our hearts were young,
and our souls were free"
THE ABOVE VERSE FROM “Bop” is a favorite lyric for Debbie Elliott of Chatfield, Minnesota. It reminds her of happier times when she and her late husband, Ted, used to dance the night away.
But how does one return to the dance scene after he or she has lost their partner? Their loss may be due to a divorce, a simple parting-of-the-ways or in Debbie's case, the death of a husband.
At the Memory Brothers' dances, I've seen certain people who've lost partners jump right back in – even acquiring a new “significant other” within a couple of months. Others never return – not being able to bear a setting so rife with memories.
In the aftermath, there's frequently more to deal with than what immediately meets the eye. For instance there are curious, inquiring people – sometimes with unintentionally insensitive questions. And then there are those familiar haunts. How does one navigate emotionally-charged territory - or should one even try?
With Debbie's permission, I'm going to share her story and just where she is emotionally in this challenging process . . . in her own words:
“Ted and I met on a Sunday afternoon at the Blue Moon Ballroom at a Memory Brothers dance. My friend Marge was sitting at a table with me when the ballroom owner, Fred, introduced us to Ted and another fellow. Ironically, Fred pointed Ted towards Marge and the other fellow to me. Ted would later tell the story that every time he attempted to ask me to dance, I'd already be heading off to dance with someone else. Fortunately we eventually got in sync and danced together that night.
“Soon after that first encounter, we both showed up at group lessons. Later Ted told me when a friend asked him if there was anyone special at the lessons, he would tell him that there was one lady whom he thought liked him. Ted said when the lesson paused for the teacher to explain something, this lady would stand quite close to him; so she either liked him or had a very small personal space!
“We were crazy about each other, so happy to have found each other at this point of our lives. We felt it was a gift. We would often get the 'aren't they cute' look from people.
“We danced at every summertime festival we knew about, often on the street (and dancers know how hard that is on your body.) We'd note our sore joints the next day but would go again the next weekend.
“We danced all the Rochester and area venues, e.g., the Servicemens Club; the VFW, Elks Club, Eagles Club, American Legion, Blue Moon Ballroom, the Castle, Wicked Moose and even down in Decorah, Iowa at the Nob Hill Ballroom.
“I remember one very special Thursdays on First in Rochester when the Buckinghams were playing, and we danced to every single song. It was a wonderful evening.
“In January of 2015, we moved to Tampa, Florida for Ted's job. We were married there in a poolside ceremony January 28, 2017. I walked in to Jefferson Airplane's 'Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now.' We left for a two-and-a-half week Mediterranean cruise the following day . . .
“We moved back to Minnesota on November 16, 2020; and on December 30, Ted passed unexpectedly at home from a heart attack.
“After Ted had died, it was hard to go back to the Blue Moon Ballroom. I had loved dancing, loved the music and friendships; but what had brought me so much joy, now was so very hard . . .
“I had driven to the parking lot a couple of times, sat in my car in the empty parking lot and just cried. One time when I'd finally worked up enough nerve to walk into a dance, it was awful. The memories were crushing, overwhelming. I sat down by someone I knew from before, and the first thing they said was where is Ted? By the time I got it explained to them, I had to leave.”
“I don't want to give up dancing, Ted wouldn't want me to give it up. Hopefully time will help me find my way back.”
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