Realignment

When I dropped my son off at his dorm, they had a Route 66 decoration theme that I thought was very clever and cute. To me it is representative of these freshman students taking off on a road leading them to a new future. All summer long, we prepared for this adventure. I heard some of my friends complain that their kids were acting out by being defiant and rude. I struggled with my son being out til 2 a.m. hanging out with his friends. But otherwise he was a good kid all summer. Working hard at his job and playing baseball on a college league in his spare time which wasn't much. When I brought up how some of his friends were acting out, he scoffed and replied that our family didn't need him to be creating such drama - we'd already seen our share and we wouldn't put us through anymore.

I read in a book about parenting teens headed off to college, that the summer before departure is one of realigning relationships within the family. They also talked about this during our orientation at the college saying that kids act up to create distance between their families, which then makes it easier for them to leave.

One point in the book that I found especially interesting stressed that for single parents, this transition is especially difficult because of the multiple roles a single parent plays. Whenever I encounter a point like this I feel so validated. Someone out there understands how hard it is to be an only parent like I am. I am not crazy feeling so tired, drained, exhausted and frustrated after years of raising my sons on my own. Yes, there is a great part of me that is so proud of how successful my sons are turning out. But it is often trumped by those other feelings which seem to overpower the good.

In my opinion, based on personal experience and my training in psychology, widowhood is far more complicated than people expect or acknowledge. There are so many conflicting layers such as this one: a parent taking on multiple roles. Most people don't stop and think of the complications. They just make comparisons based on other parents. It is rare to come across anyone who makes the distinction between a two-parent unit and a single or only parent one. I just find it an added burden to always be compared to the status quo when I'm so far from it. And I continue to wish that more people were aware of the issues facing only parents. I'm not sure any great changes would come of it. But simply for the public to have some more awareness of what only parent families face, may garner some sympathy and compassion for them in the future. And maybe that would be enough of a change to be helpful for others traveling this road that will follow me with younger children to raise.

Shopping Story

Why do we have so many unsettling incidents at the check out line of the grocery store? Is it because when we are there we're usually stressed, hurried and out of sorts? I usually try my best to be on my best behavior at the grocery store. Meaning I'll give up my spot to a person with fewer groceries or a harried parent. I try to make nice uplifting compliments. But sometimes I do get upset when I'm behind a person taking forever or there is a price check delay. One checker actually sneered at the half-price items in my cart and haughtily told me she would never buy "at code" products for her family! I didn't get upset. Just replied that as long as I use or freeze an item by its at code date there is no problem with it. Then I avoid her line whenever I see her at the store.

My sister passed on this story to me some weeks ago. It was late Saturday afternoon and she was at a big local chain tired and irritable. The woman she was behind was taking forever with a cart filled with $200.00 of groceries. "And then she brought out a fist load of coupons!" my sister added. She observed that the woman was about 60 and looked as though she wanted to talk to someone. "As if that weren't enough, after the groceries were run up the woman gave the checker an assortment of cloth bags of her own with detailed and specific instructions to pack all the cold and frozen items together!" By this time my sister was not amused. But she decided to not give into her irritation and instead be more sympathetic.

She overheard the woman explain the need for the specific packing because when she gets home she is too tired to bring all the bags in and just gets the cold things in first. My sister felt an affinity and connection with this woman's admission because face it, we're all pretty tired. She thought the woman's packing idea was a good one and perhaps she should do it too.

I related that it is such a hassle for me to lug in groceries up to a second floor apartment that if the boys aren't home to help me, I too, just bring in the perishable items. Sometimes by the end of the week, my car looks like I'm living in it. It is actually pretty embarrassing. But there are times too, that I'm just too tired to make multiple trips to and fro from the car.

So I guess this rendition is a hope for us to be nicer in grocery stores. My sister said she felt so much better adopting a kind attitude vs. one that was critical. And I feel for all of us out there leaving canned goods in the car longer than necessary simply because we're too drained to bring them in. Just going to the grocery store is tiring enough for me, much less bringing them in and putting them away. Did I tell you that sometimes the groceries just stay in their bags on the floor until they are used...?

Chilly Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Winter again. It is so cold out there. Over the weekend, it snowed but I didn't scrape my car off until this morning - we all drove the van, and it took me almost an hour to do so since the ice was frozen on under a layer of snow. Winter has become my season of dread because it involves having to do more - check the weather, warm up the vehicles, scrape them off, wear more layers and boots... All these other extra steps to add to my already overburdened shoulders.

I had to go out to an appointment that led me through a strip mall. I noticed a number of elderly men dropping off their wives at the doors of various stores. It made me think back to the days when my husband scraped the cars and filled them with gas. Such a blessing when there was another pair of hands to assist with chores and duties. I went on thinking that I sure hope these women realize how nice it is to get dropped off in front of a door, to have someone pay you attention with kind, meaningful gestures that make a task or duty a little easier. I always say that if I am fortunate enough to remarry and live with a husband again, I will be way more thankful for gestures such as this than I was with my husband. I pretty much took his filling the tanks for granted.

I feel in general that all of us need to be more kind, gentle and tolerant of others. We seem to be so quick to snap to judgments and to be right. I hope these women are kind and caring wives at home. Carolyn Myss suggests that when we are ready to criticize someone, that we take those words and turn them on ourselves - try them on for size so to speak. Then after saying them to ourselves, we need to see how we feel. Chances are the criticism we're dishing out doesn't feel so hot. She then advises that we modify our words to be more gentle and less harsh. I really like this idea. To take a moment and step back and think about our words before delivering them. I know it is sometimes easier said - when we're angry or upset words tend to fly out pretty quickly. But with practice, change becomes easier. Just having this idea in my head will help me the next time I am ready to fling some words that would probably be better not spoken. I have a plan in place to step back and reflect. If I don't like hearing the words/advice/criticism I'm giving out if it is directed at myself and it is hurtful, why would I want to pass that on?

Step back for a moment and listen to the words being stated with your head. There is then time to modify those words with kindness from the heart.

Pain For Gain

Before my widowhood and my close girlfriend's divorce, we wanted to work on a volunteer activity together. So for a number of years, we ran and coordinated the monthly food drive at our local elementary school. This involved contacting a food pantry in the area to find out their specific needs, having collection boxes in each classroom and school office, "advertising" the food drive in the school's weekly paper, working with the students to collect and assemble the donations at the end of the month and then drive it over to the pantry.

Of course, looking back now, it is somewhat ironic that I was involved in this specific activity. I generally wrote-up the notices for the school newspaper and always tried to tie in our requests to the season at hand and what the needs of the pantry were.

What got to me the most, was how some donations were of items that should have been thrown out. Clearly long expired goods, open packages and one of my favorites - the inside contents of either jello or pudding but without the external box. I would try to tactfully address this issue in my notices and encourage generosity and the like.

As I think about all of this now I am struck by the knowledge that I have walked both sides of the fence, so to speak. When I was a volunteer it was with the best of intentions and I wanted to help and make a difference. And I did. But having had to become a food pantry recipient, I must say that what I have gained in terms of internal knowledge and growth has far exceeded those volunteer efforts. I have been confronted with and had to face: humility, guilt, shame, embarrassment, being humbled, grace, dignity, thankfulness, hope, hopelessness, anger, and relief (I could probably even go on with more).

My compassion toward others has increased 100-fold! No longer will I ever look with judgment on someone needing or asking for help. This experience has stretched me far beyond any limits I could have imagined when I was just a middle-aged suburban mom trying to help out a bit in the community.

Once my grief counselor/life transition coach assured me that one day I would surpass the obstacles in my life and reside in a home again and have a better life restored to me. She added that the experiences I've gone through have served as amazing teachers and I am a better person for having lived them. Then she looked at my face and quickly added, "But of course I know that you would trade all of this inner-growth and self-actualization for having your husband still alive and your old life back." And she was right. I would trade it all in an instant to be the less evolved woman that I was seven years ago.

But of course, that isn't possible. So one way to look at it now is to accept that I have grown as a person and to hope that in the end this will all result in some good toward others and the world.

Part of the reason I blog is to try and convey to others about my life in the hope that it will result in greater compassion and kindness to others, especially widows. But I have come to realize that unless you walk in my shoes or live this life, it is impossible for someone to really ever totally understand. That is not a bad thing. Maybe I need to be preaching to the choir or those who are already in my shoes. Maybe I need to shift my focus.

It is hard to hear criticism. But the point is that we learn equally from praise and criticism. And maybe even more from the criticism. I've been thinking about some comments made to me about my not being proactive or creative enough in my situation to move and forge ahead. Yes, I'll admit that is true. I've been depressed and tired and hormonal these past months. But thinking of these comments has inspired me to think a bit more outside the box.

What if I could take some of this knowledge I've gained from my losses and use it productively? I know of a homeless shelter seeking volunteers and thought that even one or two days of going in a month would allow me to meet professionals in my social services field (thus increasing job contacts and giving me updated social services experience on my resume). The boys have also expressed an interest in doing some type of volunteer work. Maybe we could do this together as a family? In any event, I am going to the next volunteer training in early January and we'll see where that goes. I at least can serve as a compassionate listener to those in worse situations than myself.

Part of my message today goes out to others struggling. It is true that we grow more from the hardships than what is easy for us. Some of us will end up suffering and growing more. It doesn't make us better or the suffering less painful. But in the end, I don't think it is for naught. I believe somehow, someway our experiences will end up serving some purpose in bettering the world. Or at least I want to believe this because that is what gives me the most courage and hope.

Grace Be With Us

Words and books have always been my salvation, especially in times of trouble. I read the following words from Jennifer Weiner's book, "Certain Girls," which I finished last night. One of the book's characters, Joy, has to write a speech for her bat mitzvah. She scraps what she has prepared and wings it. This is taken from her speech but I've left out some of the parts to make it more applicable to the meaning I want to convey here.

"I'm supposed to tell you about what I've learned this year... but really, the truth is , what I learned this year is that life is hard. Good people die for no reason. Little kids get sick. The people who are supposed to love you end up leaving. When you don't get what you want, you take what's left and make the best of it. Even when I did the wrong thing or made the wrong choice, my family stood with me. Bad things happen. Stuff doesn't work out. Everyone has sorrow. Everyone has obligations. You lean on the people who love you. You do the best you can, and you keep going."

I pulled out my battered and highlighted "The Five Things We Cannot Change" by Dave Richo and reread words that had profound meaning for me as I struggled during the time of my divorce and moving from my house. His wisdom is "... we notice that we sometimes have to bear more than we can handle, and we may fold under the pressure. Our purpose in life is not to remain upright at all times but to collapse with grace when that is what has to happen. Thus the fact that we are given more than we can bear at times is not a flaw in life or in us..."

Richo is a proponent of loving-kindness and he ends the chapter (Pain is Part of Life) with this:

"As I say yes to the fact of suffering, may I accept the dark side of life and find a way through it, and may I then become an escort of compassion to those who also suffer."

These words were a gift to me from two vastly different people, authors and books. I offer them out now to others in hope that they may offer healing, compassion, strength and grace to us all. My oldest is composing a new musical piece for his final in music composition that his band director wants the band to play at the spring concert. He has titled it "Grace Be With Us." Those words and feelings of a 17-year-old seem to say it all.

Dismal Holidays Forcasted

Two million people are expected to lose their extended unemployment benefits this holiday season. People talk about not having trees, being able to afford gifts for their children and their lack of holiday spirit. I wrote about my food pantry experience yesterday as a way to deal with my own pain/frustration but to also increase awareness of the situation as well. To put a real and personal face on the matter, so to speak. I created another blog where I try to deal with my "living under reduced circumstances" issues but sometimes there is overlap and I figured I'd go ahead and post about my experiences here.

I went to yet another food pantry recommended to me yesterday and again admitted that I do not qualify for emergency food assistance based on the Federal guidelines. This time, the pantry was far more generous than the last one I visited and provided me with food although I will not be able to become a client. We received more food yesterday than we have had in literally months. When I shop at the store, it is always $20.00 or less because I can't afford to fill my cart or vehicles with gas ($5.00 or $10.00 fill-ups are the norm).

I was told to take as much bread as I wanted - good, decent, fancy bread not the generic stuff. I was led to a table of "cast-offs," items that clients did not want to take and left behind. I was also told I could take whatever was there. I almost cleaned the table off taking every can of vegetable that was there. I got two bags of potatoes and three bags of apples, sweet potatoes, lettuce, watermelon and pineapple, eggs, milk and a huge block of cheese along with meat. I took everything that was offered and it is probably enough to last through the whole month!

Here is where I struggle - I have enough to keep a roof over our heads but not enough to provide good, healthy, adequate food for my kids. People out there are receiving food stamps and able to visit a food pantry like this, twice monthly. No one in our country should have to go hungry. I always believed that the greatest nation in the world would provide for its own but am learning that is not the case.

Receiving this bounty increased my mood and spirits 10-fold along with that of my sons. People have to have food to get out there to look for work, to continue parenting and to simply remain hopeful enough to face the next day. I only see the situation getting worse, not better. I know of people who have been out of work now two years. They are surviving either because their spouse still has a job or they are receiving support of some kind from family.

It is especially difficult for single and only parents struggling on their own with no one to emotionally or physically lean on. It can happen to you. You can be a well-educated, professional, middle-class citizen and have your world topple over and fall on your face. I'm not finding a whole lot of assistance out there or those with kind, helping hands stretched out with compassion. Criticism and blame continue to be lashed out at the unemployed. Having been there now I can add that to simply tell someone to go out and find a job and take whatever is offered is not sound or positive advice. I've made the rounds of fast food places, restaurants (waitress/server), grocery stores and the like and have been told I'm overqualified. Then when I apply for jobs in my field, I am competing with better qualified folks. I'm caught in the middle. A male friend my age, lost his fancy advertising/art director job and was a bartender all summer. He also took training to become a nanny but so far has met with resistance because he is a male and hasn't been hired. I am actually considering the bartender training as a last resort myself.

In the future, I'm going to try and keep issues like this separate on my other blog but felt I needed to finish what I started. This is my experience and my opinions. No one needs to agree or feel sorry for me or my situation. But I do hope it in some way it softens the criticism others may have against people struggling right now, including the two million people worried about feeding their families during the holidays. I've gotten a break this year - others won't be as fortunate.

Shot of Reality

Oh my gosh! I've just spent the last hour reading countless AOL comments in regard to a piece written by a single woman in her 40s who has been out of work for two years. She wrote about feeling invisible and having no available services/resources ending up selling EVERYTHING. There were 30 pages of comments! Most were sympathetic. Many spoke about being in the same situation. A few stuck out with criticisms - take a job, any job; go back to school; why don't you volunteer?; get over your pity party... Most of the sympathetic understand that those of us unemployed would take ANY job but none are being offered us; they know that to go back to school takes money; volunteering might not be possible because it involves gas, etc.; and I won't even get into the pity party finger pointing.

I stopped reading the comments after about 15 pages. I couldn't stand anymore. There are so many others out there suffering and worried and anxious just like I am. I'm not the only one who has lost a home and pawned all my jewelry. At least I still have clothes and my books! Many who commented are my age and spoke about ageism that is alive and kicking in our country. In general, however, most people were kind and supportive and tried to encourage this woman.

I do live in kind of a cocoon. At times I do feel as though I am the only one out there having a tough time. Tonight my eyes were opened a little wider and I have a less negative image of myself. There are sure a lot of 50ish folks out there having to start over with nothing. I am not really alone. Hearing about and knowing other people's problems doesn't make me happy but it did make me more aware of what is going on beyond my own little world.

I think we are in trouble nationally and need to address the issues of increasing employment opportunities, especially for those in my age group. Health insurance still is up in the air. The housing issue remains a mess. No one can survive adequately on minimum wage. I hope this blog increases people's awareness of those struggling as this woman's article did. Some people who are out of the loop thanked her for her honesty. What we really need is more kindness and understanding and not judgmental criticism. If you aren't walking in these shoes, you really don't know. Tonight my oldest came home from Show Choir practice complaining of being hungry, adding, "I'm always hungry." Sometimes I wake up hungry too. He settled for a leftover bowl of 4-Bean Chili (the pot of chili that never ends) over spaghetti but thankfully I replenished our cheese supply, getting a block of cheddar to grate myself and save $1.20.

My prayers are increasing and going beyond myself to the countless others both better and worse than myself who are struggling in some way. Please pray for stability, healing and prosperity for all. During this season of giving, I feel as though some are choosing to forget about the hardships still existing for so many.

Fragility

There is a tree I see on my path during my nature walks. It has caught my eye because it is a broken tree, cracked in half. Yet at the sight of the break, new shoots have sprouted and grown.

I see this tree as a metaphor or symbol of widowhood. I was struck down and became broken. Yet had to go on with new sprouts that emerged and took root from my brokenness.

What always strikes me is how fragile, new and young these shoots look against the strong main trunk of the tree. That has gotten me to thinking about how fragile we all are in our positions. Yet why is there sometimes this assumption that our loss and losses have made us stronger? You hear it in the phrases "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger" and "God doesn't give us more than we can handle."

In my opinion, grief and loss hasn't toughened me up or made me stronger. Most days, I feel like these new tree shoots - fragile, weak, tentative, growing. Definitely not who I was once before.

I'm humbly amazed passing by this tree. Looking at these new shoots which are now their own branches coming from a tree struck down and fallen, yet still reaching for the sky. And I'm reminded of how fragile life can be, how fragile we can be. There is a necessity for us to be kind, compassionate and nurturing to ourselves. These poor shoots came up on their own taking root out in nature and surviving. There is a need for us to nurture ourselves through the growth that comes after loss. To see ourselves as fragile and new, not strong and hardy. We've been struck down and are still fragile as we continue to live on past our loss.

Apples Made into Apple Pie

I, of course asked my son about his buying dinner for the homeless guy. He didn't think it was that much of a big deal, which is why he didn't tell me about it.

Coming home from football practice, he noticed the 30ish looking man holding a sign asking to work for food. Since the man was near a McDonald's, my son thought about him as he passed by and turned around at the stoplight. Pulling up alongside the man, he offered to buy the man dinner. I figured my son went through the drive through window to get the guy something, but no, he wanted the man to eat what he wanted so they went in together and he had the man order for himself - Big Mac, fries and a shake.

Then my son sat down with the man for a while. He learned the man was from Minnesota and had lost his job about a year ago and then his home. He is traveling down to the south where he knows someone he can live with but ran out of money. So, he is currently living in his car while trying to work for gas/food. I asked my son if he knew where the man had worked but he hadn't inquired. I was also curious if he had found out how many people actually help this guy. My son replied that it is pretty hit or miss, not consistent assistance from the public.

Thinking about this incident made me feel high all weekend. My son just shrugs his shoulders and takes it for granted. "I had a few extra bucks on me," he explained. It is no big deal what he did for a man out on the street down on his luck. I worry about the fact that I only have a mere seven cents left in the checking account and payday is still two weeks away! I am scouring my belongings for something I can bring to the pawn shop (I still have some gold rings that have been "lost" in the move). I hope my son's act of kindness is returned back to us in the next couple of days. I try to keep in good spirits despite our own hardship. Perhaps instead of a sign offering to work for food, I can sell hand knitted pot holders on the street corner? They'll start referring me to the "Pot Holder Lady." I AM KIDDING - kind of...

My son took the values I have always believed in myself - helping those less fortunate - it is why I chose a career in social services. I wrote in my last post that it looks as though those values (apples) didn't fall far from the tree because he has internalized them. Those apples were baked into an apple pie, the aroma warming my heart all weekend long. I am counting on that pie to give me strength through the rest of the month. Would my son have done the same if my husband hadn't died, and we were still living in our home and not facing such financial hardship ourselves - my guess is probably. But this pie tastes all the more sweeter because my son's action came from a deeper and more profound place of understanding.

Falling Apples

Tonight was Senior Farewell Night at the football game. The parents line up with with their son and the names are announced over the stadium speaker. The principal shakes your hand and the moms get a flower with a ribbon in the school colors. Pictures are taken, etc. I've been dreading this event the past months but it went by in such a quick blur I survived it! I was given a really nice laminated large photo of my son in his football uniform.

It was cold and my son said he wouldn't be playing since they changed the lineup and in order to win this crucial game put in bigger guys in my son's place. So I didn't stay the whole game which we thankfully won! I went home for some dinner, a nice warm cup of black bean soup with some cheese and crackers.

I was spending some time on the computer since it can be hard to get online when the boys are home. For the heck of it I looked up a Facebook comment made on my son's page from a few days back. I had no idea this happened but he wrote that he had passed a homeless man holding a sign that said he would work for food. So my son stopped at a McDonald's and bought the man a dinner. The man cried when my son gave him the meal and shook his hand. My son said it made him feel better than he had in a long time. One of my son's teachers commented that he was proud of him. I was floored, especially since I had no idea this happened. And my sons and I are pretty tight/close in talking to one another. I am surprised he didn't say anything to me.

A couple days ago my youngest cashed his work paycheck and asked me to take him to the dollar store so he could buy a hat for winter that he had seen. He also needed deodorant and body wash that he bought himself. As we left the parking lot, I too noticed two homeless guys with signs. I only had a few dollars change on me but pulled around and went back to them. My youngest asked what I was doing. I told him that I don't have much to give but they looked like they needed help more than we did. So we stopped and I gave the guys a few dollars.

I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

My handsome son made me proud tonight because of his athletic leadership which was stressed as the boys were introduced. But I wish that announcer could have told everyone what he did a few days ago in buying a meal for a man in need of some food. Especially when we are struggling ourselves and my son surely would have enjoyed a fast food meal himself since we so rarely get them now.

For a few brief moments tonight I made a quick call to the heavens telling my husband I wished he was on the field beside me to share this moment. I hope he was also witness to the goodness in my son's soul as he pulled into that McDonald's.

Beyond Comprehension

I watched Dateline on Friday night and it was about a man accused of murdering his daughter, who was around 12. Now the guy at first adamantly denied the charges (he made over 600 denials) but later admitted to the deed after intense and grueling police interrogation. The DNA found on the poor girl did not match the father and was matched with a sexual predator who had made other attacks on women in the area. The father's testimony and reenactment of his confession was found to be totally inaccurate with the facts of the crime scene and forensic evidence. The leading expert in false confessions determined this was a case of an innocent man falsely admitting to the crime. The prosecution's theory was that the father knew the sexual predator and "arranged" for the murder. The sexual predator said he had never met or knew the father until they were linked together in the case. He said the father was innocent but remained silent on his own involvement.

I relate this utterly sad and horrible story because of the verdict of the jury. Despite all of the evidence proving this father's innocence, they still found him guilty because they could not get around the fact that he admitted his guilt to the crime (a number of times). They believed that an innocent man, especially a father, would go to his grave proclaiming his innocence. They were utterly unable to comprehend how a man could be manipulated or give in to a crime he did not do. This was despite the fact that the police had told the father they had proof he did so and they also "prompted" him in his confession. The jury was simply unable to imagine what the human mind is capable of or what another man can do under horrendous pressure, strain and events.

Dateline asked the false testimony expert about this and he shook his head and said there are numerous cases on the books of innocent people admitting to crimes they didn't commit. It happens. Just because we can't conceive of it, doesn't mean it isn't capable of happening.

I thought about this relating to widowhood. I get so frustrated trying to explain what this life is like and largely I am misunderstood or blown off. I think the prevailing attitude is that widowhood can't be that bad, I'm making more out of it than I should, and I'm too much of a compainer. I've come to the conclusion that my efforts to explain myself, my feelings, frustrations and my life are pretty much in vain - unless I'm talking to another widow/widower. It is beyond the realm of consciousness for people to get me and what I try to describe, especially how drained and tired I have become.

The jury was so stubborn and steadfast in their belief. Because they were unable to comprehend it being any other way. For an innocent man to admit to such a despicable crime doesn't make sense. Therefore, it can't be. They were so rightous, so certain. I felt frightened at the end of the show of how innocent folks do get sent away for crimes they didn't do. Sometimes the innocent are wrongfully punished. I was also scared of how people can come to false determinations based on their own limited knowledge and biases. And I am worried too that there seems to sometimes be a limit as to what the human mind can comprehend and understand. That there can be a lack of compassion and empathy toward others.

I guess I will recall this jury the next time I am met with a wall of resistance when I try and explain some aspect or another of widowhood. Some things are impossible to get unless we have lived them or are living them.

Continued Cluelessness

One of the initial intentions I had when I started this blog was to garner some sympathy and understanding for those traveling the widow road. Specifically, to convey what I termed "The Fatigue and Drain of Widowhood." It is difficult to describe to others who are not in this position, just how draining and fatiguing this life is on so many levels.

Grief in and of itself is exhausting physically and mentally - it is relentless work - a job. To add to that comes tiredness from not sleeping or sleeping poorly, as well as loss of energy and strength due to lack of exercise and not eating well or consistently.

But I have found the worst to be all that has come from the emotional and mental side. Having to learn new skills and take over tasks that were unfamiliar; always thinking ahead and coming up with contingency plans for "what if" circumstances; being put on the spot and having to scramble in 10 different directions when a monkey wrench altered a situation; just figuring out and planning the details of daily living so life runs somewhat according to plan and smoothly.

It is physically draining to be the only one always taking out the garbage, cleaning up the house, doing chores inside and out, running to the store, filling the cars with gas. But even more so, the emotional void that occurs because there is no one to brainstorm with, no partner to call on the way home from work with the request to put the casserole into the oven to save 30 minutes of cooking time. It is the big things (car emergencies, money issues, etc.) but even more, the daily, little things that build up with time - not having someone telling you that your outfit or hair look nice, not having that special someone give you a hug when you leave or return for the day.

Not having someone to lean on both physically and emotionally.

You get depleted, tapped out, the tank is always running on empty.

Putting one foot in front of the dragging other, day after day because there is not much choice otherwise.

Just cut us a little slack - give us a break. Understand where we are coming from. But no, we're judged and held accountable as though hubby were still taking out the garbage and getting the cars tuned up. In fact, there have been plenty out there who've been critical of not only what I've done or decisions I've made. Then there is the criticism for not being able to keep up and falling short. And then to feel guilty and upset with myself because of other people's ignorance and lack of compassion! Looking back, those who were most critical were those unwilling to offer a helping hand or emotional support.

I had really hoped to change things not only out there in the world but within my own little life too. I don't think that has happened. I don't believe that people can or will get this. It's futile for me to try and explain my perspective. Unless you live this, you don't know - you'll never know.

Case in point - even those who have known me the most closely fail to get this - the complications and stress of this life. I continue to be compared and judged along with all of those with more "traditional" lifestyles.

Back in September, just after I'd made a major move on my own from a five bedroom home to a two bedroom apartment, I mentioned needing a computer desk to Sam, the man I was involved with. Now this was a point where I was so physically worn out from the packing and moving, etc. I could barely stand. I won't even go into the emotional pain in regard to all that was going on in regard to my having had to sell the home at virtually no profit and to move the boys and I. I continued working at the big box store and was involved in unpacking and trying to organize a new place for the boys and I. And with no help - very little physical or emotional support at all.

And during this period, which Sam was fully aware of, his response to me in regard to my needing a computer stand was to go around town hitting garage sales - to obtain one that way. Here is this poor woman, stretched to the limit with no free time and doing her best to handle an extremely difficult situation on her own while keeping it together for her kids, and she was expected on top of all that to search at garage sales.

That's what I mean about people's unrealistic expectations of us. Sure, fine, I could scope out garage sales in my other life before widowhood when I had a husband at home lending a helping hand with parenting and the house. But not in this situation. And I find that total disregard and lack of understanding for my life almost insulting.

When I told Sam that his idea was unrealistic and that I'd have to check out inexpensive options at either Target, Walmart of Pier 1, I heard back that I wouldn't be getting a deal and the other option was better. So, I couldn't win - I wouldn't be able to do the garage sale hopping. And when I admitted that I had to do something else and adapt, there was criticism for that as well.

I don't mean to pick on Sam totally here because this has happened numerous times in the course of my widowhood. This example was recent enough that I could recall it with some detail.

I have just come to find that it doesn't much matter what I do because whatever it is, it will be met with criticism and perceived as falling short. I don't know what the deal is here - are people totally clueless? It seems as though it is quite easy for people to lay on criticism for me as a widow that I don't hear other people receiving. Why is it is so easy for someone to discount my grief when I have really gone through some trying times with a phrase such as "Your life is better than if you were living in Africa." I have heard countless women over the years complain about trivial matters such as their husband's being gone on a week-long business trip leaving them alone with the kids and house. Or, complaints about slow-moving workmen involved in their house remodeling project. Or the fact that they've had to go an extra week without a manicure because the girl who does it has been out on vacation. And yet I have never heard anyone tell THESE women that their lives could be worse if they were living in Africa and they should be grateful!

I'm perplexed. And I'm sad and disappointed with the overall and general lack of understanding for those of us in this position (not by choice and by unfortunate circumstances). All I've wanted was a little compassion, maybe a nod of the head instead of a stern finger wagging at me in disapproval. Widowhood is a no win situation to begin with - and continues to be as a widow.

It Costs Nothing To Be Kind

My mother often said this saying when I was growing up and it had an impact on me: "It costs nothing to be kind." Since my becoming widowed, I've often had opportunities to reflect on these words of wisdom. Before widowhood, unkind comments bounced off me more readily. Probably because I had my husband waiting at home to support me and take some sting out of the biting words. I've noticed that since living on my own, I am far more sensitive to the unkindness I've encountered. I think it is because I've become more sensitive overall having dealt with death and loss. But also that there is no longer a buffer at home to protect and help restore me.

What is it with people? Are we really that emotionally immature or thoughtless to want everything to always go our way? Are we so conceited and self-centered to feel entitled to always be right? To have to justify ourselves to prove a point? What harm is there in acknowledging another person's viewpoint? I just don't get it sometimes.

I've been trained as a counselor. To patiently listen to another person's feelings and thoughts. To put myself into the shoes of others. This skill should be taught to everyone, not just those in the social services field. No one seems to consider other people's feelings while barreling in and telling others what they should do, think and feel. Why is it so easy to give advice but not be able to accept criticism? Why can't people say they're sorry more readily? Why is it so important to have the upper hand and come out on top?

This is what I have come to strongly believe - that most of us just want to be heard and validated for our feelings. That's all. We're not asking to be right or for others to agree. Nothing big and nothing fancy. Just a few minutes of heartfelt listening and then some verbal feedback. Here is a little hint - people don't even have to come up with certain words or phrases. All it takes is repeating back the words you have heard. "I hear you saying that you feel this way about this and that..." How much simpler can it be? Why are the easiest and cheapest things in life sometimes the most difficult to attain?

My Mom was right. It costs nothing to be kind. I just don't understand why people are so stingy with their kindness, compassion and sympathy. What do they feel they will lose or give up by spreading a little kindness throughout their day, especially to those they know can use some?

Today I am grateful for:

1. Ice cube trays (talk about taking a product for granted).
2. Mundane office supplies like paperclips, rubber bands and hole punchers that we conveniently use without much thought.
3. The huge variety of music that is available to us and the convenience of CDs vs. the past modes of records, cassettes, etc.
4. Microwaves.
5. Paper towels, paper plates and napkins.

Thanksgiving "Break"

I am taking the day off and purposely going to try and not think too much, process everything, figure out problems or fret about the future. I am just going to try and be - to keep my mind blank and neutral. A bit of a rest from all the turmoil swirling around my head and body. Unless they've had to grieve a terrible loss, I don't think others realize the amount of inner work going on inside our brains. There is constant motion, never ceasing. Over and over our minds say, "What if," and/or "I miss him so much," and/or "I just want my old life back" and/or "I don't think I can go on." Our inner pain seems endless because we can't turn it off. When we go to bed (if we can sleep), we sometimes end up having dreams or nightmares. We wake up thinking about our loss/losses, during the day these thoughts consume us and then at night we toss and turn in loneliness. No break. And then on top of the grieving thoughts we have to figure out how to do things we've never done before, we have to live in new and unfamiliar ways and we have to make backup plans. Talk about overloaded minds and brains!

Today I wish everyone a bit of a break and respite from the thoughts swirling around within.

And to those who will be with a grieving loved one or know one, please take a moment to see beyond the person in physical form. Recognize that there is so much going on within and take a moment to give an embrace and demonstrate some compassion, comfort and love. No words are necessary and a gesture can be as simple as bringing someone a plate of pie and coffee or gently touching their cheek or holding their hand for a moment.

Giving Myself a Long Overdue Hug

According to the Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale, the death of a spouse is the most stressful change a person has to endure. Back in the 1960s, these psychiatrists ranked various life events and assigned them numeral correlations. The death of a spouse comes in at a whopping 100! Getting married is ranked 50. Taking out a small mortgage is 17 and so on. The main point behind this scale is that the higher score someone has, the more likely that they will be facing significant stress which can lead to serious illness, anxiety, depression and anger. To see the scale go to Wikipedia and then just search under Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale.

I am not surprised about the highest ranking being assigned to losing a spouse. After all, I've been there and I know what this is like. The stress just doesn't go away, say like having your computer break and then having to either get it fixed or chuck it and buy a new one. It is not a short-term life change that can be quickly dealt with. Rather, a spouse's death is so multi-dimensional and the changes that result continue for years. Talk about long-term stress!

I find it surprising that despite what these guys determined way back 40 years ago, that the world continues to overlook and dismiss the complexities related to losing one's spouse - especially, those of us who are younger and/or with children. I'm not sure why there continue to be so many sterotypes about grief and loss, such as people need to get over their grief and move on within a year period. Or the myth that you can get over grief in the first place. I also continue to struggle with how underserved this group is. Here we have had research into grief and loss that even shows that the brain undergoes chemical changes when grieving - reasons we are absentminded or forgetful, unable to concentrate. All the books and studies by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross on death and dying. While I don't totally agree with the stages of grief she developed, she brought into the forefront sociological and psychological data into what grieving really involves.

In a way it was good to see in black and white confirm what I have been living and know to be true in my heart - that the death of my spouse was the most significant life changing event I could endure save something happening to one of my children. Knowing this I need to be kinder and more gentle to myself. I need to step back and see the entire picture for what it is and what it has been. It has been a nightmare - having my soul exist in unending darkness within a world that continues to brightly shine. Maybe that sounds overdramatic but it is what I have endured. All the times I was so hard on myself for not grieving fast enough or being strong enough or making decisions that I shouldn't have made. Boy do I need to give myself a break!

I just had the silliest imagry of myself having a hand long enough to reach behind me and pet myself like I pet my cats. Giving myself a small measure of kindness and comfort. Then I had the image of part of myself breaking away from my body and giving myself a big long hug. Yes, it is sad that the world doesn't seem to understand how significant the loss of a spouse is. But I don't need the world's understanding to provide that recognition to myself. In the end that is what counts the most anyway. I get it - I know it - and from now on I am going to make more of an effort to show myself compassion and empathy I should have long ago.

Kind Gestures

I ran up a nice older gentleman and his wife the other day at the big box store. He left the counter before his wife paid telling her, "I'll go get the car and pull it up front for you." My keen ears picked this up and I was touched by his thoughtfulness. He was looking out for his wife and showing her his concern in a small but significant way. While touched, I also compared myself to this couple and felt the sting of not having had much of that thoughtfulness come my way, even in the face of grief and multiple losses.

I miss those random acts of kindness you receive unasked from a spouse. And I miss the favors given because you've requested them. I know that I relied on my husband for much of my emotional support because my family is not close. Since my Mom has died, I feel such a void in my life. As though there really isn't anyone besides my sons and recently GF who would care if something happened to me.

Those little acts of caring really add up and an absence of them over time takes its toll. It is certainly one of the reasons I am strongly considering remarriage. It is tough going on one's own for me. Maybe a more independent woman or one with very supportive family might think differently. But the way I am made up, I need to hear frequent terms of endearment and to have someone display care and concern like the nice man shopping at my store. I am sure he thought nothing of his actions - it was probably second nature to him. But I heard and saw him and put in a good word for him with the Universe.

Note to others, especially those who know someone who is dealing with grief/loss: It doesn't take much to zip off a quick email to someone telling them you're thinking of them and are concerned. Or offer to do some small chore or errand, even as simple as picking up some groceries or milk. Better yet - just do something/anything. Showing up with chocolate, soup or a seasonal pie for instance. Dropping off a coffee or walking someone to their car. Maybe next time the checker asks me if I want assistance with my grocery bags I'll say "yes" just to have someone help me, even if in this instance it is part of their job!

We all need to feel as though someone cares. We all need to have kindness shown toward us. We need to know that we matter and that once in a while someone will lighten our loads or pull the car up so we don't have to walk through a crowed parking lot. Not a whole lot - but it doesn't take a lot. Just small, frequent gestures.

Today I am grateful:

1. For the fabulous warm and sunny weather.
2. For the kindness and interest shown to us yesterday at the high school in GF's town.
3. For the kindness and support that comes my way through these posts.
4. For Mapquest.
5. For the softened hearts and moods that most people adopt through the upcoming holiday season - something to look forward to.

Ravaged Heart and Soul

WARNING - READ WITH CAUTION - VERY GLUM, SAD WORDS AHEAD

I have been struggling with the following topic and have debated whether to post on it at all. But after much soul searching I am going to release it from my heart and out to the Universe, where I hope it will somehow come back to me in the form of wisdom and relief. The issue that follows has wounded my heart far more than the death of my husband and the divorce of the second. After all the grief work I have done on my own and with my counselor, what I have finally come to is that I never even had to have these grief experiences to feel the worst pain I could feel - it was already there, buried under all the grief of the past years - waiting to be finally uncovered.

I speak about my family of origin issues. Suffice it to say, my three siblings and I grew up in an abusive, neglectful home and today I am sure we would most likely have been removed and raised by the state. Soon after my husband's death, my parent's health greatly declined (mental and physical) and my local sister, brother and I became involved with their caregiving. I had always been extremely close to my mother and concentrated my care on her. My sister and brother concentrated on my father's needs. When my mom died in August, 2007, the fragile family bonds we had maintained over the years fell apart. I also did not want to pretend anymore that we were close siblings, when we were not.

But all of this greatly breaks my heart because somewhere, somehow while growing up, I developed the strong ideal that a family always watches out, cares for, and defends its own. What my reality was, however, is that is not the case within my family unit. For years I harbored strong grudges against both of my brothers for failing to send a card or flowers when my husband died. I felt it was the very least they could do, having known him for 13 years. After his death, there were no casseroles, offers of help with the house maintenance or playdate suggestions for my two young sons, ages 9 and 10. It would have been nice to have had them over for a weekend to interact with their cousins and give their poor, overwrought mom a break/rest.

As the drama of my divorce and subsequent foreclosure took root, there were again no offers of support. And I guess all I really ever wanted was some measure of emotional caring/compassion. But my brother and sister seemed to side with my ex-husband and defend his position ("He thought he did enough" from my sister, while my brother went on about how difficult it must have been for my ex to take on a readymade family made up of two teen boys).

What has hurt the most is the lack of any minimal emotional support since both sibs have known of the foreclosure. I have never asked for financial help nor do I expect it. But what I do crave is a small amount of emotional kindness and acknowledgment. The last time I saw either of my sibs (the third lives in Hawaii) was at Easter and we discussed the foreclosure. My brother has had no contact with me and my sister briefly talked to me after I initiated her advice before accepting my retail job (and that conversation was stilted and uncomfortable).

About a week ago, I received the following phone message from my brother:

"Hi, Widow in the Middle, it's B. Just giving you a call that dad has another care meeting scheduled for August fourth at 2:30, so it looks like it's a week from tomorrow, 2:30 at [his assisted living facility]. So give me a call if you want me to try to schedule that or something or let them know. The person is _______ at #____________. Thank you. Bye."

No real hello how are you doing. No concern about me or the boys. Just a businesslike message informing me of my duty to attend my father's care plan meeting. I think that what especially bothers me is the lack of care or concern toward my sons. I know if the situations were reversed, I would have made a substantial effort to have remain connected with my nieces/nephews and would have exhibited a strong amount of concern toward their well being after the death of one of their parents.

I have been haunted by this message since it occurred and was unable to talk directly to my brother so emailed him a short, impersonal reply. I am still trying to come to terms with my familial relationships (or more descriptively, the lack of any kind of real relationships). It is especially hard now as I gear down for the house selling and our move into an apartment. My heart is breaking and I feel I do not have the support of anyone (save a handful of friends and my therapist) to rely on. This is where family is supposed to step in and be there as an emotional rock. To have to face the demons in my soul as I clear up my house, lose my status as a homeowner and move to a less desirable area of town to keep my boys at the same school is devastating. I need and want someone to rely on during this stressful crisis (and I can't say I'm even finished grieving my divorce yet either).

The single worst aspect of widowhood for me has been the lack of a partner standing by my side to face the worst that life has had to offer me (the diagnosis of my youngest with a potentially fatal medical condition; the death of my Mom and now this financial nightmare, foreclosure and loss of my home). To go this all alone while parenting and working is a feat deserving of a gold medal in stamina, endurance and strength.

And the most painful aspect of my life thus far has not been the passing of my first husband or the end of my second marriage, but the death of my beliefs and illusions in what I had always hoped to count on when the shit really hit the fan. I am supposing that these current feelings go back to my very young childhood and the painful reality of not being accepted, of being abandoned and neglected. I know it is part of the reason that marriage is such a strong desire of mine - I have a huge need to feel secure and protected.

My heart now seems less burdened having related these feelings. My recovery work is not yet completed. My girlfriend has suggested that I put my family issues on hold and concentrate on my move. That is the plan - I don't think the conflict existing between my sibs is going to go anywhere, anytime soon.

Today I am grateful:

For the good aspects of my current home that I have enjoyed over the years -

1. The way that I can always see the moon from my bedroom windows.
2. That I can hear the church bells from town chime all day.
3. That we lived in a very safe neighborhood.
4. That the boys attended excellent schools.
5. That we had a large, private double lot with lots of trees that was also a curse when it came to mowing and weeding.

The Stupid, Unfeeling, Hurtful Things People Say

I am sure those of us facing losses through death have our lists of the dumb things people have said to us. My top three come from the FIRST WEEK following my husband's death and are as follows:

1. "Everyone has to die sometime."

2. "I know lots of single moms and they seem to be managing just fine on their own."

3. "Your kids are going to be great "latch-key" children!" (The boys were just nine and ten and were afraid to be alone in the house even during the day!)

Now I have a new comment to add to these zingers. It was said to me on Easter by my brother-in-law, whom I really like. His comment was made after I was updating my family as to my financial status and the very real possibility of my losing the house to foreclosure. I also briefly related my sadness over my divorce. He glibly replied that my life if better than any individual's living in Africa so I should find comfort/solace in that.

I was pretty amazed at his choice of words and logic. I replied that of course I recognize that my life is more fortunate than those living in other countries. Over the past weeks his comment has sat with me in an unsettling way. I brought it up to my therapist who provided insight with the reflection that it wasn't a very empathic thing to say.

That I think is what is most important when throwing in your two cents to those who are grieving. First and foremost acknowledge their feelings (where they are right then and there in regard to the situation). By bypassing any acknowledgment of my current situation, my brother-in-law ended by negating my emotions and making me feel bad for even having them. After all, if my life if better than others living in poverty around the world, how can I really feel bad about anything going on in my life?

What he could have said was "I'm so sorry for the hardship you're experiencing." Or, "this must be difficult for you right now." That is all that was needed. Nothing more, nothing less. Now I unfortunately cannot get images of poverty stricken individuals out of my mind. And I feel terribly guilty for worrying about losing my house.

Forgiveness

It is like the floodgates have opened and I am being immersed in a sea of insight and understanding. I have for so long agonized over the concept of forgiveness and feeling quite certain that I would never be able to grant that to Husband #2. I read a couple of books on the topic including "Forgive and Forget - Healing the Hurts We Don't Deserve" by Lewis B. Smedes but just could not grasp the concepts involved. I reexamined this topic reading "Storms Can't Hurt the Sky - A Buddhist Path Through Divorce" by Gabriel Cohen and again could not see how it is possible to view a person's intentionally hurtful acts separately from who they are as a human being. I was unable to observe the two on their own and could only see them as connected. But having completed divorce mediation on Thursday I have since had a change of perspective. The fact that my husband lacked the courage or decency to say goodbye in person and then literally ran from the law office when the mediation was completed allows me to see him as a pretty damaged and tormented soul. My compassion for him has come out. And I can see that what he did stemmed from his inability to be able to successfully engage in relationships. It is a horible weakness but one that I would bet has its roots in very early childhood. I don't think Husband #2 has a clue what he is running from or even why - just that he has to run from the pain because he cannot face it. Gabriel Cohen talked a lot about the concept of seeing people (especially the ones who hurt us) as being just like us in that we are all just trying to escape pain and find happiness.

So finally I am understanding how it is possible to view a person's behavior as separate from who they really are - a fellow person trying to avoid pain and suffering. It is helpful for me to use metaphors when working out issues and in this case I view forgiveness as the butter you spread on a piece of bread. The more you can slather on the better! That additional butter will spread and spread and spread - to you, the person you are forgiving and ultimately others.

Divorce Mediation and Love

Tomorrow morning is the big day - the long awaited and dreaded divorce mediation meeting. My mood is more matter-of-fact than anything else. Having lost a spouse to death, I know only too well the importance of love, commitment and marriage. I am tremendously sad that my husband did not want to make any effort at working this relationship out. What a waste of so much! But at the same time I realize that to fight for something the other person does not want is fruitless. At this point, if he truly wants a divorce I want him to have what he wants. I hope it brings him peace. I hope for myself closure. I wish for both of us future happiness. It is my sincere intent to only bring loving-kindness into the mediation arena; to be honest, fair and understanding. I have a feeling Husband #2 will not be in the same mind frame. But no matter. I hope also to carry myself with dignity and strength. And to somehow generate love toward myself and even my husband. I am wishing myself luck!

Today I am grateful:

1. For love which is stronger than everything and will prevail even in the darkest of moments.
2. For the long journey I have survived the past seven months.
3. For all the growth and insight this situation has bestowed on me.