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For a number of years Bea V. Larsen, senior mediator at the Center for Resolution of Disputes in Cincinnati, Ohio, www.cfrdmediation.com, presented weekly commentaries on public radio, both on her professional work as a mediator and on her more personal experiences. These broadcasts reached thousands of listeners in a number of Midwestern states. A new series of online commentaries at www. bealarsen.com now continue that tradition. Here she writes as a professionally active woman of 77 years, seeking to distill what she has learned over the years into thoughtprovoking stories.
Keywords: grieving; aging; death; mentorship; mediation; friendship
How should I define myself to readers who do not know me? Some years ago, I would have written: I am a lawyer and mediator, been married forever to Leonard Larsen, mother of three grown children and numerous grandchildren. My entry, in 1969, into what was then virtually an all-male profession was born in significant part of an early Betty Friedan push. My luck (Was it luck?) was to have married a man who admired and was not threatened by strong women, and who dreaded life with a wife trapped in an unsatisfying role, once the claims of motherhood were eased by the passage of her babes to school. For 4 years, 3 nights a week, he came home from his university work to care for our children while I gleefully entered the adult world of night law school. Now, 4 years since the death of my husband, it is that loss that first defines me, even if I seldom initiate talk of it with others. Although in most respects my identity has not changed, important shifts have taken place. With the passage of time, I can make this assessment without tears, but as I touch the keyboard and these words appear on my screen, the tightness in my throat does not relax.
A week after Len's death I returned to work, to the surprise and unspoken disapproval of some, but with the understanding of others who know me well. Allowing myself to be absorbed and rewarded by competence developed over so many years of professional practice (and observation of the human condition, my own and others), allowed me to sustain in the face of sorrow. When...