Lost & Found: I Didn't Expect To Find Myself Here

Years ago, when I was caregiving for my father who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, we would spend our weekends driving the back roads of Vermont. It was a way for us to spend time with each other, see beautiful scenery, and get to know each other all over again, this time all grown up.

Sometimes we had a destination. Sometimes not. And since GPS wasn’t that advanced back then – and a lot of the roads we traveled were dirt and had names like ‘Bob’s Road’ – we would get lost. A lot. One time, after many rights and lefts we came to an intersection of a two-lane highway and I uttered, “huh.” Dad turned to me and asked me if I was lost. I replied that I wasn’t. He suggested I look at a map, and when I replied, “No, I know where I am, I just didn’t expect to find myself here”, he promptly replied with a fatherly smile, “A lot like life that way.” And succinctly, and kindly, there was my father – out of the fog of Alzheimer’s and as wise as ever.

Lately I have heard so many colleagues and friends echo my statement from that day … “I just didn’t expect to find myself here …” Wherever ‘here’ is for them; whether it is being let go from a long-standing job or grown children who still need a lot of support. Money lost. Cancer diagnoses. Relationships and loved ones gone late in life and being left alone.

They are having to hold their lives together in a different way – and sometimes at a different level – than they thought would happen. Despite doing all the right things, life dealt them a new hand late in the game and it doesn’t feel fair, nor sustainable.

Each generation has had its own set of these circumstances. I am not sure I know anyone who hasn’t had some challenge. But there is no playbook. There are no guarantees. Life surprises us and forgets to leave the user manual when it does. It’s up to each of us, individually and collectively, to figure it out.

And I believe we can.

But it takes a willingness to look at things very differently. Instead of focusing on what is gone — or can no longer be done — asking the question, “What can I do with what I have?” takes courage. It may be very different from what was originally envisioned. It takes reframing. It takes accepting. It takes creativity. It takes letting go of lesser priorities. It takes energy. And it takes a willingness to ask for help from friends.

Instead of letting our pride and desire to take care of everything ourselves isolate us, shifting toward what we do have to offer — and what others can offer us — becomes part of the path forward. There is no need to go it alone.

And give yourself space and grace to become acquainted with the new path you are on. You didn’t expect to find yourself here, especially now. But draw from the skills you have developed throughout your life — getting organized with what you have, working through uncertainty, exploring options, and letting go of what no longer works.

Think of other moments that called on your strengths and remember … you found a way out.

You have a toolkit of skills, and if you need one you do not yet have, reach out to someone you know who can share it with you.

Dad and I always found our way home from our journeys. Not always the way we thought we would, but we always found a way.

Finding Our Way