Where is the Forest?

Having trouble seeing the forest through the trees right now. Didn't mean to worry anyone. Thank you for all of your kind and caring concern.

I'm just really, really tired - emotionally exhausted and drained. Like everything from the past years has all caught up with me. It is hard to explain. People don't seem to understand and I don't want to post negativity. Really, I've reached the point where I want to put a lot of my past behind and focus on the future.

But times are a bit rough right now. Trying to stay on the path and plug on through. In actuality, only have about a month and a half until relocating/moving.

I'll try to convey what is inside me - maybe others have been there. I think some of it has to do with long-term widowhood. The nitty-gritty of having to always face the little normal aspects of life alone. And then having to face the more turbulent aspects of life also alone.

Worrying about tax filings, paying the rent, keeping the cars running and maintained, washing the laundry, signing field trip permission forms, cooking, cleaning, managing the other bills including college fees...

The other night my youngest woke me up for comfort after a nightmare. Then my oldest frequently calls me from college for advice or support. I'm happy to be there for my boys but at the same time there is a part of me that longs for a supportive adult to comfort me after one of my frequent nightmares.

My youngest is facing shoulder surgery and a part of me kind of crumbled with this development. Dealing with insurance, physical therapy, doctor referrals, etc. on my own, yet again. I worry about making a wrong decision and not having someone to consult with on a personal level. That is what I mean about the emotional tiredness.

Since being widowed the merry-go-round has just never ceased. And for whatever reason I've reached a point where the endless spinning around has made me dizzier than usual.

In terms of posting about all this I've figured what is the point? It is what it is. Right now I'm just a bit low and drained and hopefully life will swing up again and I'll feel more alive.

There is also a part of me that feels horrible about my being so emotionally drained - and I suppose tired of the 10 or so years I've been only parenting. I think about the Octo Mom with 14 little ones and here I'm having trouble or complaining?

But again it is what it is. I'm feeling what I feel and dealing with life as I'm experiencing it. For a long time I thought that the worst part of widowhood was going to all those school events on my lonesome. I want to change that now to the worst part being handling EVERYTHING on one's own for year after long year. For me personally, I do better as a team player and don't enjoy all this solo flying.

So now all of the bad stuff is out and hopefully life will become more stable with a clearer picture of the forest and the trees.

St. Patty's Day

I am very, very tired of late. My youngest told me the other day that I need to snap out of my funk. Kind of just drifting and going through the motions. In four months we will be gone from this location and I have started to panic at all that needs to get accomplished by then. Having moved from a large home three years ago, I am aware of all that is entailed with a major relocation. Doing it all on my own again... Packing, sorting, tossing, physically moving furniture and boxes, the emotions involved with discarding the old...

Spring has sprung early. I should be relieved that Old Man Winter is gone for another season but am almost too weary to rejoice in the warm weather. I also seem to suffer from PMS-related depression so mid-month my anxiety increases and my mood plummets.

This is where I am - not particularly a good place but where I am for the now. I have been reflecting on and trying to prepare mindfully for the strength I will need to really embrace four months from now when both boys will be at college and I'll be a widowed empty-nester. The reality of this part of my life and I think widowhood in general, is that widows have to constantly reinvent themselves and forge new paths in their lives. That is very tiring to face over and over, yet alone have to live through.

Eight years of raising my sons on my own after almost three years of care giving to a sick and dying husband. It all catches up with you. To move past this period of my life is long overdue. It is fitting and necessary to be physically moving from this location as it will represent a new beginning and options for me and my family. Leaving the area is the best prescription for us.

But in the meantime, I still have to live and get through the upcoming days and months. Hope a little St. Patrick's Day luck will come our way and to everyone.

Sick of Strength

I've heard variations of the "Strength" platitude over and over - "You've got to stay strong," or "You're so strong." These are always from individuals who have someone to lean on. Easy to say this stuff when you can crash every once in awhile and let someone else carry the load.

I'm not strong. Just because I've handled a lot of hardship doesn't make me stronger than others. I've just had to deal with a larger share of problems. Believe me, if I could, I would not be handling all this. I do it because I have to and I do it alone because I don't have a choice.

There is this stupid belief out there that strength builds character and we become better for having survived hardship. I don't believe this anymore. In fact, I don't believe any of those platitudes we've been raised on anymore. As time goes on, or at least now, I find the constant strength in having to rise to every occasion solo, is just draining me and leaving me more bitter. Forget about becoming wiser and stronger. Here is a quote by the businessman J.C. Penney that illustrates this:

"I am grateful for all of my problems.
After each one was overcome,
I became stronger and more able to meet those that were still to come.
I grew in all my difficulties."

Well, I've reached the point where I'm not feeling very grateful for my problems. And I've reached the point where I don't want to meet anymore. I don't like this life and I don't want to be living it as it is panning out anymore. I read all these inspirational quotes where I should greet each day, even the hard ones, with joy in my heart and gratefulness for being here and all of that. But if I were to say that I thought that, I'd be lying.

Feeling very, very weary and drained. Got through the debacle with the van being towed and its flat tire and all only to face a week later, another flat tire. Then some tickets for failure to not have a city vehicle sticker (which I didn't know we needed). And so it goes... More to face and handle. More energy that gets chipped away from my heart and soul.

My son received acceptances into two of the five colleges he applied at. Receiving those letters with the "Congratulations on your acceptance..." took a little bit of the sting away from the bad news that happened.

I'm tired of being strong. It is okay to be weak. In a marriage or partnership or close family there are opportunities to sometimes let others carry the load. I think I've reached my limit. I feel my back finally breaking.

I'll get up tomorrow and do the stuff of living I have to do. But it is like going through the motions. It is easy to be positive and motivated when things are going well. Seems impossible now to feel joy when there is so much discouragement and my spirit is sagging. My strength is tapped out.

As I write these feelings out, I realize that along with the stupid platitudes, there comes the guilt for not being able to be strong. Because when people tell you to keep on being strong, it is expected that you'll keep your chin up and do just that. Where are the platitudes for failing gracefully or not being able to keep up? Platitudes aren't realistic. What is real, is the realization that people will sometimes fail and fall. I want a platitude that gives me permission to feel the honest feelings I'm having about discouragement, exhaustion, bitterness and weakness. I need a platitude that gives me some direction on what to do when too much strength has actually ended up making me weak.

Labor Day

When I was a kid, Labor Day really meant that no one was working except at the hospital. If you needed gas or groceries you waited until Tuesday or prepared by buying them over the weekend. No one went out to McDonald's - we had cookouts with our family. Today that has all changed and what makes me feel sad is that the people I think need and probably deserve the break the most - those working in the service industry of sales and fast food, are actually still working on the day created to give everyone a rest!

Speaking of a rest. My oldest came home from college for the weekend, but this was not a planned visit. He advised me he was coming home while already on the train back. When he texted that he was bringing laundry, I actually groaned out loud. Laundry? I have to do MORE laundry over this holiday weekend? I did the laundry, although one of the nicer aspects of his being away is that there is less to do now. And for those who'd say I should have made him do the laundry, well his girlfriend of 2 1/2 years just broke up with him, and she was the reason he came home in the first place. I let him sleep in and have a bit of a break before heading back.

I've heard of women in my town who have gone to visit their kids away at school and have spent weekends cleaning their apartments. I don't think I'll ever end up doing that. For one thing, I'm just too tired these days for any more 'labor" or any more than I have to do. I do believe that my tiredness and weariness in regard to housework and such does relate directly to the many years I've been doing it by myself.

I just read that having to make decisions on one's own constantly is a huge responsibility and ends up causing significant life stress. I can attest to that. Apparently a lot of the stress ends up being in regard to fear of making the wrong decisions and then having to live with oneself when a wrong decision is made! Anyway, it is hard to always be the one deciding everything and having to make decisions without input.

So as for labor, I'm ready for retirement and a very long rest with my feet up! (I'm not kidding.)

Seven Year Fatigue

I seem to be more tired than I ever have been before. Why is this I wonder? My life is on the upswing. Really. Have seven long years of widowhood and only parenting finally caught up with me? And why now?

Yes, I only get three-four hours of sleep a night some nights. I wait up for my sons to get home. And with many graduation parties going on to 2:00 a.m. the past few weeks, that has taken a toll. I try to nap and catch up on my sleep but I'm still groggy during the day. And I suffer from headaches frequently. Senior year, especially this past winter-spring, has been especially busy for us with lots of events to attend, etc. So we can add that to the mix. Along with college apps. and all that stress too.

All these years of focusing on my boys and pretty much devoting my life and free time to them. And here one will be off to college in two months. I should be kicking up my heels with happiness at my son's success and my part in helping him succeed.

Maybe concentrating so much on my sons' lives has caused me to not know how to do so with mine? Maybe I don't know how to deal with free time or life without a dozen conflicts to keep me busy. Case in point: Graduation Day. We failed to get our graduation tickets. I didn't open the envelope until that morning, and could only think, "Why me, why us? We've already had to deal with so much." But come heck or high water, I was going to be at that ceremony. My son spoke to the principal beforehand and we got it covered. But then I stepped in gum in the parking lot...

Maybe our bodies have some kind of sixth sense where they don't break down until they know it is safer to do so. Maybe now that life is settling down for me, my body is collapsing. That is kind of a scary thought.

So, I am doing my best to focus on summer fun. I've been taking little day trips on my day off to the nearby countryside which is very relaxing for me. I am finding parks and hideaways that bring me peace just looking at them. And I am going to take a summer vacation - a weekend retreat by myself, which I've been promising to do for years. It'll be the first vacation in what, nine years? No vacations may have something to do with that fatigue I'm feeling right now.

If I had to describe it, it would be like wanting to just collapse on the floor and then melt away... I sometimes talk about all the myths of widowhood and only parenting that I have come to know. One is that stress and having to constantly make it on your own don't end up making you stronger - just more exhausted and defeated. You'd think that after seven years I'd be used to this lifestyle and all that goes with it. But I just feel the walls tumbling down. This is not a "normal" life at all. Another myth, that there can be "a new normal" whatever that is supposed to mean.

Being There

Doing those daily postings for the A-Z Blogging Challenge took a lot out of me. Also, there have been plenty of goings on with end-of-school-year activities, etc. I do okay with life when it doesn't throw any curve balls at me. But when I get hit with debit card fraud, baseballs hitting the windshield, on top of Prom and all the normal day-to-day functions, I seem to sink.

The debit card fraud was a big scheme that hit the Chicago area via Michael's, the craft store chain. Skimmers were put on the debit/credit card scanners, which is how they got my card and pin numbers. A number of stores in my area were targets - I had gone to two of them! Luckily, my bank did not allow the transactions to go through - in California at an ATM where they had made a phony card with my info. They tried to withdraw $500.00, then $300.00 and as a last ditch effort, $100.00 - all denied. But I was without a card for a week and had to keep running to the bank for cash.

The windshield on my son's vehicle was fixed on Friday. I am still dealing with insurance on that. I spent Mother's Day with Sam and had a nice meal out. We went to an Asian restaurant owned by a friend of his. She is a married mom of three with her oldest 13 and youngest 3. While we were there, Sam mentioned that his friend had confided in him that she is so tired, complaining of no time to herself, spinning her wheels, etc. "See, you are not the only one," he added. I just replied that it seems pretty much everyone in our society is tired these days. But his friend has a husband at home to confide in and pick up some of the slack. There IS a big difference when you are parenting on your own.

Driving home from Sam's, I listened to a radio broadcast about parenting teens today. The panel of church pastors talked about why parenting is different than in the past citing higher divorce rates, kids living in two homes, both parents working, living in such an instantaneous society. When asked what parents can do to counteract these pressures, being there, showing an interest in and attending the kids' activities was given as the top response.

I thought about that at the volleyball games I attended Monday and yesterday. It is tough getting home at 8:30 and then having to deal with laundry, homework and some kind of decent dinner. But I've made being there for my sons my #1 priority the past 10 years in an effort to raise them to the best of my abilities and to launch them into life as rounded, decent, caring, respectful young men and citizens of the world.

There is a huge sense of pride as I see what fine young men my boys have become. My oldest will be playing his original band composition next week at the final band concert along with it being Senior Night for volleyball. He is excited about starting college. On the volleyball court I see such a leader, not to mention his athletic and music abilities.

People tell me that when I look at other married couples and are envious of their union, to realize that their relationships might not be all that they seem. But I tell you, every marital problem and difficulty during the 12 years I spent with my husband (and there were plenty) do not compare in any way to the stress and strain I have felt as an only parent. I'd take all of those issues multiplied vs. the complications and hardships I've had to face raising these fatherless boys on my own. So that on top of the blog challenge and debit card fraud and windshield is just another aspect to my weariness.

But on Mother's Day, despite my exhaustion and all, I was reminded that as a mother I did what I felt was in my heart to do for my sons - I have been there. Granted the house has sometimes, well, most times, been pretty much of a mess - but I was there for two boys who needed their mom more than ever, and I should hold my head up for that with pride.

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...?

Hope

A Hectic, Hard, Hurry-Up kind of week. But it seems like I write about those subjects all the time so I decided to go with a different H word for the Blogging A-Z challenge - Hope.

There was a lot going on with volleyball throughout the week, then a huge show choir performance last night. One of the vb games was at the school my late husband taught at. So I asked my youngest son to go with me as a tribute to him, not just to see his older brother play. A. didn't really want to go but felt I would freak out if he didn't. He warned me not to do anything weird while at the game. We walked past Daddy's classroom and looked in the window, watched the game and I said a quick prayer to my husband hoping he was watching his oldest boy from above proudly even though they lost both games. It was emotional for me because my husband and I took the kids to a number of volleyball games there since he often went to school activities to support his students - and it was always cheap entertainment for us. Never did we suspect that one day our oldest would be captain of his volleyball team. At 6' he is one of the shortest members.

After the game it was late and we had to drive 30 minutes back home and get dinner going. I had hoped for a more meaningful experience but as always, life just scuttles on.

I was involved in making raffle baskets for the fund raiser for the show choir. This was a week where one night I fell asleep in my clothes, with all the lights on, having not brushed my teeth or washed my face. I Hate those nights.

Today my oldest was off to a vb tournament, which I did not attend because of the distance away. My youngest was working at the track meet at school but not running because his foot hurts. I thought I finally had some time to myself to clean our Home. That is all I wanted to do. Straighten up and establish some order to our living space since it looks pretty trashed from the past week. I had gone out to buy drain cleaner and was out doing other errands - no milk or tea in the house, when my youngest called for a ride home. I was in the car Heading Home and just turned around to the school. "Hurry up," he demanded. But when I got to the school he was no where to be seen. Typical. Then my son was famished from working outside a couple hours and we got him a Polish sausage meal with drink and fries from a cheap local mom & pop place - the meal was just $3.50.

Although all I wanted to do was go home and unclog one of the bathroom drains, my son begged me to take him to the mall so he could purchase a Build-A-Bear animal for his girlfriend. He will give it to her in some scheme asking her to Prom. I despise the mall. When we got there I couldn't find the Build-A-Bear and we walked the entire mall looking to see if it had moved. I saw the name of a store that sounded like it had potential - Furry Friends or something like that which turned out to be an actual pet store. Finally I asked a mall security guard and was told Build-A-Bear is no longer there. So that was a wasted excursion.

Which leaves me to the point of this post. A pretty draining week all in all. But when I finally got home I cleaned off the dining room table and put out a green pitcher I got from Goodwill for a dollar and filled it with some sprigs of spring flowers I picked up on sale at JoAnn's. Despite the Hardships and Hassles, I have to try and see the Hope out there. It was a tough week, but they all seem to be tough and tiring and no doubt will for another year or so. I really have to make a point of focusing on Hope rather than the difficulties.

This week my oldest played more volleyball than I can keep track of - he performed in a wonderful show choir event - and we had an opportunity to be at my Husband's school because my oldest was playing there. I got milk at the grocery store but forgot the tea. But I did manage to clean off the dining room table and it looks nice with the flowers on it. And that is Hope. And tomorrow I'll do more cleaning after I run out for a box of tea.

Heroic Widowed Only Parent Mom

Last week began with my oldest, E., calling me hysterically from the automatic banking machine. He had deposited his cash tips totaling $140.00 and didn't receive a receipt. 18 years old. I've been told by some that I should and even could declare myself more "free" from him. That legally I am no longer even responsible for him. Are you kidding? Maybe 18-year-old males need parental input and support more than ever. I will never desert my sons. My childhood involved my siblings and I to be virtually self-sufficient. And I didn't have children to carry on that legacy. Yes, I need to guide my sons to be responsible and independent adults. But that doesn't mean shooing them out on their own upon their 18th birthdays.

My son ended up calling the bank's "Help" number. I didn't know what else to tell him. He was upset that it was outsourced and had difficulty understanding the woman he spoke with. It was not the time to tell him that I do not use these kinds of machines after hours for just the reason my son experienced. But he was assured that his deposit was credited.

Later in the week, I had the surreal experience of getting E. to two locations at the same time - his first volleyball match, which he was very pumped about since he is head team captain, and yet another band concert. Both locations were 30 minutes apart from one another. Said heroics involved a migraine (mine), negotiations with the vb coach and band director, my son changing into a tux in the van, and running down the halls of the high school to get his instrument from the band room and then to reach the stage. I will leave it at that and forgo more details.

This weekend, I had a 12:15 a.m. run to the all night pharmacy for some medication for my youngest, A. And so it goes.

I am tired and depleted. No one to share the responsibilities with or the logistics of how to figure all this stuff out. Sometimes the difficulties cancel out all the joys of parenthood. When I sink under the covers no one pats my shoulder and says, "Job well done, Mom."

I bring this all up now because I feel I haven't taken care of my own needs. The boys have always come first as it should be. But my relationships have always seemed lopsided, uneven. How can dating or seeing someone ever be fair and equal when my life is so intense and busy? The men in my life haven't had full time parenting responsibilities and have not understood the pressures always on my plate. I end up getting resentful and upset because it isn't even. Sometimes it has felt as though I have to do most of the work in my home along with my personal life.

Is there a solution to this? What do other only parents do when dating when they end up feeling like this?

I have decided to direct the focus onto myself this Spring a little more than I have in the past. I need to tend to my own home and affairs. That is just the way it is and has become. I still have never finished organizing our living environment or my finances and paperwork. It is Spring Break and the boys have promised to help me in this process. I will be more demanding of them.

One of my divorced girlfriends leaves her two kids, the ages of my sons, to fend for themselves over the weekends as she is with her boyfriend, out dancing, going for a drink, etc. I don't approve. She, I suppose is disapproving of my not getting out much socially. We represent two ends of the spectrum. Maybe it is impossible for only/single parents to lead balanced lives. It will just end up being lopsided, falling more on one side than the other. Parents constantly bemoan the fact that there aren't enough hours in the days. For only parents, there truly aren't. Nor is there enough steam in the engine to sometimes accomplish what needs to get done in the most productive manner.

Books/Authors/Widows

Looked into attending a lecture/appearance by Joyce Carol Oates at the Harold Washington Public Library in Chicago next Thursday but it is booked. She will be speaking about her latest memoir dealing with her grief after the death of her husband. I know this book has been in the recent news. I read a little about it and her reasons for publishing it, in part, she says to educate the public on grief.

My own feelings are mixed about purchasing the book. It is another one dealing with that "first year" time frame. Been there, done that. Seems like most grief books cover the first year and I am so past that now, yet still daily affected by the death of my husband. Why are there no books out there covering the grief years for those of us longer-term widows? Why is widowhood looked at constantly from that single year period? For me at least, the first year was such a blur it was like it didn't even exist anyway.

Have just finished the classic Edith Wharton novel, "The House of Mirth." Why I even read this I don't know except that it is a classic. Surely, a book about the social silliness of the New York upper class at the turn of the century doesn't have a lot of meaning today. Or maybe it does - I'll have to consider that.

But the story is about a society girl tumbling into poverty. One section at the end, really caught my eye. Lily has just bumped into a poor young women she helped with medical care when she still was wealthy. Here are her comments on that woman, Nettie:

"The poor little working-girl who had found strength to gather up the fragments of her life, and build herself a shelter with them, seemed to Lily to have reached the central truth of existence. It was a meagre enough life, on the grim edge of poverty, with scant margin for possibilities of sickness or mischance, but it had the frail audacious permanence of a bird's nest built on the edge of a cliff - a mere wisp of leaves and straw, yet so put together that the lives entrusted to it may hang safely over the abyss.

Yes - it had taken two to build the nest; the man's faith as well as the woman's courage. Lily remembered Nettie's words: "I knew he knew about me." (her past with another man). Her husband's faith in her had made her renewal possible - it is so easy for a woman to become what the man she loves believes her to be!"

There again is what I have strongly come to believe. It is easier with a partner, it is easier when you're happily married, two are better than one.

I am sinking under the tiredness of life on my own. Now that my oldest is graduating, in the end, should I remarry or live with someone again, I will still say that I raised the boys on my own - on my own.

I don't know how to act or think any more. Yes, I am working and starting to socialize more. But the women in my knit club seem so remote to me. Two are widowed but much older than I, with grown children. The others are all married and as they share and talk about the details of their lives, husbands doing the taxes, going on cruises, dealing with their houses (I'm the only apartment dweller out the group of 50), I just can't relate and feel left out - as I usually do.

I am not sure at this point how to even act in a romantic relationship and what is realistic for me to expect from a partner. I only know that I am feeling unfulfilled in certain ways with Sam who lives 250 miles away. Do we even have a relationship? He expects me to drive out to be him with on weekends and can't come to see me because of his retail management job not granting him two days off in a row. But I'm tired of this and don't feel emotionally supported. I'm supposed to be content with this arrangement for the next year while waiting for my younger son to finish high school? What are we anyway? He still is gun shy about remarriage. I don't want to be in a relationship that I can't even define and exists at a standstill because of distance and lack of contact.

My job is so boring and also frustrating, after work today, I picked up the summer community college course directory to sign up for the Library Assistant Program which starts at the end of May. I have to do something, anything to move myself into some sort of professional environment.

I feel in limbo and at odds with life and my feelings right now. I don't want this life anymore. Somehow I have to muster up the strength to bring change to my situation. But as Lily reflects, it is difficult when one doesn't feel there is someone on your side supporting and even holding you up at times. Lily in the end fails and can't do it on her own. Why aren't there any books out there relating this life and the trials affecting poor, tired, only-parent widows about ready to fall off the cliff because their nests are blowing away...

Stupid Ice Storm!

So in the end it all comes down to this. A blog constantly complaining about the trials and tribulations of being a widowed, middle-aged mom. I am on a freaking merry-go-round and just can't seem to get off. Round and round she goes...

This morning awakened to an ice storm from last night and can't get the vehicles scraped off. My car doors were stuck shut and I asked the nice young dad from downstairs for his muscle strength since the boys had already left for school. He got one of the doors opened but I looked at my ice covered windows and came back in for a cup of tea and a blogging gripe session before heading out to do the job. I don't want to. It will probably take me a half hour in the cold and then I'm off to work. I'm already tired and it is only Monday morning. How can someone be tired on Monday morning? I'm tired and drained every day!

I know that I've been posting more positive posts of late, but then an ice storm comes and it just blasts me back 10 steps. Everyone here is sick of winter. When they announced the winter storm advisory last night my youngest groaned out loud.

I wish I had the personality to turn this around with a more positive spin. Thinking/saying that having to go out and scrape a thick layer of ice off my vehicle to get to my "temporary low level job" makes me feel alive because I'm using my muscles and exerting myself in the fresh air. But I'm not that person in the first place and after a number of years of widowhood I haven't become stronger doing everything on my own, just more tired and depleted.

It is not the grief and loss that gets to you in the end - it is the living and doing and coping and struggling on one's own that does you in. At least that is my opinion on this widowhood road. Far more hardships than pleasures and somehow always having the scale tip downward seems a darn shame. Widowhood life is just so unbalanced. There needs to be more "evenkeeledness." But how can there ever be more balance when one is always behind, running to catch up, low on rest, sleep and relaxation and always doing the work of two? It's a no win situation if you ask me. And then throw in a freaking ice storm when it is almost impossible to just keep up when life is "normal" and I'm ready to throw in the towel or should I say ice scraper!

Reflection, Renewal and Healing

It has been less than a month since my father's death and I have been doing a significant amount of reflecting on grief, loss and the way our society deals with these issues. At work, no one and I repeat NO ONE, acknowledged my father's death. Not one "I'm sorry" or "How are you doing?" I know that I am a new employee and that some of the people I work with are younger. But not one acknowledgment seemed so bizarre and insensitive. What are we teaching our young people in school, what are parents teaching their children about life and death?

I know that an elderly parent's death warrants less sympathy in the grand scheme of things than a young person or even middle-aged one. There was sympathy provided when my husband died. But somehow this blatant disregard in acknowledging the loss of my dad hit me very hard.
When I mentioned that my father had died on 12/21 to the group of friends I went out with on New Year's Eve, one of the women actually told me to stop talking about it because she did not want to ruin her evening. I wasn't planning of dwelling on the subject. I just mentioned it because it was a big factor in my life. To have such a major event dismissed is troubling to me.

The last week has been insane. Dealing with the repair of two vehicles, getting the boys through finals, filling out the college financial aid reports, going to work, trying to shop for an outfit to wear to my father's service (unsuccessful), and dealing with all the requirements of getting my oldest to the talent contest, in addition to all the other normal duties of life as a widowed mom pulled me under the waves. There was just too much on my plate. I was exhausted and absent minded. I ended up losing the key to our mail box and having to pay $40.00 to have the lock changed. I also lost my knitting bag and all my expensive gadgets, implements and a skein of yarn from the project I was working on.

We got home from the talent contest at 2:00 a.m. Sunday (I'll post about the talent contest in another entry). I awakened tired and still had to quickly go through boxes and bags of my father's photos and awards to take to the service, starting at 1:00. I was upset with my family for being put in the position of having to jump through hoops to attend the ceremony. I felt more consideration should have been given to my situation with the talent contest where we could have held the ceremony either the week before or after that event. Again, I constantly struggle with how so few people get how hard it is to be an only parent. To just get through a normal week is challenging enough but to add on extra ordinary events pushes me beyond my limits.

I certainly was on an adrenaline rush last week. But now I seem to have crashed. I am exhausted and it is so cold here. I just want a day to myself, to take some time to reflect on my father and to renew my spirit. I am reminded of my husband's death and how there is approval for grief during the funeral and early period which gradually dissipates around the three month mark. Now that my father's service is over I'm supposed to be magically recovered, only I am finding that I'm not. The problem becomes trying to find the time to reflect and renew. As a widowed mom there is even less opportunity to fit this into my life.

I read in Dr. Phil's column in this month's "O" magazine about a woman who feels smothered by her husband's attentiveness - she lost both her parents in the past year and he apparently is worried about her well being. She feels he is being overattentive. Good for him I want to say. There are some of us out here dealing with grief and life on our own. We don't hear many words of kindness or concern or receive the support of a loving, caring spouse.

I recently was told that phrase I have absolutely grown to hate - "God doesn't give us more than we can handle." First of all, how does God really know how much I can handle? I've pretty much reached my limit as this past week has demonstrated. Message to God here - "You can stop the challenges for awhile. They are not making me stronger. I am becoming weaker, in fact. Ease up on the worn and weary and especially the widowed. We already carry such a burden in our hearts and souls." For those who believe adversity brings on strength, I will counter that sometimes that is not the case. I know it is contrary to what one would expect. But people only can handle so much before breaking.

As for the weeks and months ahead. If I have learned anything from my husband's and my Mom's death, it is that I will not stop grieving or put my needs aside because of the discomfort of others. I need time for healing, reflection and renewal with this new loss. I won't stop talking about it. Maybe I'll ask for a day off.

The dead deserve respect and we provide that with services and memorial. But so do the living and somehow we seem to shortchange the ones left behind. We are expected to go on demonstrating strength and courage. The reality is that without taking the time for renewal and healing, it isn't really possible to go on successfully.

Laundry Stacked to the Sky

Dialogue from "To Have and to Hold" by Jane Green:

"I feel so happy that I don't have to go into Manhattan anymore and stand next to Joe making boring small talk with the boring wife of one of his clients, and then five minutes later I'm terrified. I can't believe that I'm going to be a divorcee, that I'm never going to wake up and see Joe lying next to me. THAT THERE ISN'T ANYONE TO STAND UP FOR ME, OR STEP IN FOR ME, OR TAKE OVER WHEN THINGS GET TOO DIFFICULT."

"I know," Emily says. "That's the bastard about being single. You have to do everything yourself. But on the plus side, you haven't got anyone telling you what to do. You can eat Ben & Jerry's for breakfast, lunch and supper if you want."

Alice snorts. "If you want what? If you want to grow into the size of a house?"

I am snorting too. I'm too tired, drained, discouraged and disillusioned most of the time to do anything fun for myself anyway. What is the point? I'd much rather be sharing life with a partner right now taking out the garbage on a shared basis than have a choice of whatever I want to eat.

This week I have to figure out how to get the van towed and looked at for a repair estimate. The sedan needs to be repaired as I have to drive my son to a talent competition at the end of the week about 300 miles away. Arrangements need to be completed for that - what my son will wear, etc. and plans for having a place to stay for my youngest while we're gone. I still need to figure out if we'll stay over in a hotel or make the trip in one day. Have to work Mon - Fri on my feet, the boys have finals this week, and I want to go through some of my father's things as his memorial service is on the 16th. Also need to figure out financial aid applications for my oldest - gosh, I hope that can be postponed to next week!

All of that and still I need to do laundry, make dinner, shop (although maybe this week we'll rely more on fast prepared options). How am I going to drop off the sedan and then get to work? I'm hoping the guys at the body shop will drive me but then there is the need for a ride back to the shop from work. It is too long a distance to walk.

I'm feeling overwhelmed with too many decisions to make and too much to do. Now is the time I could use that help Jane Green refers to - someone to step in for me to give me a hand.

The above photo is just one of the piles of laundry currently in our home. This is of the boys' clothing. We have another of towels, my stuff and a huge bag of white socks that I seem to never get to - it just stays in the closet. At $3.00 to do a load of wash, I ration it out, doing what has to be done. Then there is the issue of getting a chance to do the laundry anyway, as it seems whenever I go downstairs both machines are occupied. In my home, I had a super capacity washer and dryer - these machines don't allow me to fill them with half of what I'm used to.

Today, I've managed to get two loads done despite having to wait until late afternoon for a free machine. I plan on doing another load so the laundry basket stacked up halfway along the wall and pictured above will be greatly reduced.

And with that I sign off. It is so cold and dark and I am tired and just want a day where there isn't so much to do, plan, think about and decide by myself.

Tired Zombie

Dear Cyber Friends -

I don't know what is wrong with me. I am just so tired. Not sure if it is the new medication adjusting itself to my body or if I am just really tired from all that has happened over the past years (or a combination of both). I am getting through the days doing what has to be done with making sure the boys are fed, have clean clothes, get to their various activities and so on but I am doing everything kind of like I'm on automatic pilot and without much emotion.

It is strange. I don't feel freaked out or like I'm going to explode but at the same time I don't feel much inspiration or happiness (for lack of a better word) either. I am just kind of blah, hum bug, even-keeled. Maybe that is where I should be right now, at least for the time being but I do miss really feeling more of my emotions. It is a little weird feeling so numb.

The best news is that the blood pressure medicine worked within just a week to get my blood pressure to a normal level. The doctor told me he felt the worry/anxiety I was experiencing was a definite factor in why my BP was so high. I am very grateful that it has gone down because being worried about that too just made my anxiety worse!

I continue to take a half hour or more nature walk and that has been a lifesaver to me. But most days I wake up with this low grade headache that doesn't seem to dissipate. I would like to go to bed for a week and just sleep for seven days straight!

There were some boxes that I couldn't fit into the storage shed and I had to bring them home to sort through and get rid of. Have been busy with that and making lots of Goodwill donations. But the house move still weighs heavy on my mind and heart. Moving from such a large home into a small place turned out to be a very challenging and unending task for me to handle and accomplish, as noted by the fact that I'm still at it a year later. Anyway, there is progress in that and progress in out looking for work in my field of social services. No bites yet but I'm at least casting out my line into the water which for me is a big step. I tend to bury my head in the sand because of my fear of failure and not making it.

I hope all of you are doing as well as can be expected in everyone's individual situations. At least the weather is lovely this time of year and there is joy in celebrating that. Happy fall to all.

Widow Network

It was a weird week - full of an assortment of ups and downs. Rather than relate them all at once, I'll just start with the one from the beginning of the week, Monday. We were just getting over all the hoopla of Homecoming week when my youngest woke me up in the middle of the night to tell me his brother's foot was bleeding profusely. And it was. Turns out his little toe had somehow been cut while he was asleep and wouldn't stop bleeding. By the time we got to the ER, a bath towel was entirely soaked through - the whole towel. I couldn't believe there was so much blood because there was also a pool of blood around the futon where he sleeps and bloody footprints throughout the floor.

The ER doctor advised, that foot, toe and finger injuries/cuts bleed a great deal. My reasoning for taking him to the hospital was because we had no idea how he had cut his toe and I was worried there may have been something still caught in his skin. Plus there was just so much blood. It was 2:00 in the morning (Tue.) and we were all pretty groggy and not thinking too clearly. But what do you do when your kid wakes up with a foot covered in blood that isn't stopping bleeding?

When we got home, after the bleeding stopped, the cut had been cleaned out and bandaged, I figured out what happened. I saw a slivered groove in the wood of the bookcase next to the futon that my son's foot must have rubbed against.

It was all just kind of a surreal and strange event. In the past years, with two boys playing sports, I've been to the ER more times than I want to recall. Monday night/Tuesday morning I was so drained and tired of it all - the constant having to cope with everything on my own, including mysterious medical emergencies. I need to be there propping up my sons when they need me, but no one is there for me when I'm falling down and needing some propping up myself. I have reached the absolute limit of this widowhood life. No one, should have to shoulder so much on their own for so long. No one!

I did a bit of investigation into whether the friend of my youngest son, whose mom is widowed might be interested in sharing a home in the future, but she responded that she prefers to live alone. My son said he suspects she might be bipolar and that it would not be a good fit for us but I threw caution to the wind and asked anyway, simply because I don't want this life on my own anymore. It at least starts the chain in motion and shows my intention to the Universe.

Even sharing a home with another widow would allow some division of labor, perhaps sharing meal preparation, etc. And it would be far less lonely. But anyway, that is a no go. It got me to thinking about the "olden days" of my youth when divorce was still new and taboo. I remember that when I was in high school (mid-1970s) that two couples in our subdivision got divorced. People were so shocked that they drove by the couples' houses trying to get a glimpse of the divorcees. What happened was that these two women pooled their resources and shared a home together - they had kids around the ages of my sibs and I. I wonder what happened to these women who really in their own way were leaders paving the way for women at that time.

Then I thought of the few other women who I knew from back then, two of whom got divorced, one whom was widowed. All three of these women got remarried immediately. It's funny, but my son's friend's mom has a boyfriend who has asked her repeatedly to marry him and she has refused wanting to remain living alone. And here I am, a woman who longs for remarriage and ends up still on the search for the right guy... Well, we certainly know life sure ain't fair!

I think in earlier times, even 35 years ago, that there were stronger networks in place for women, families were closer and all. I wish there were some kind of widow network in place right now, listing widows who are looking for roommates to share houses, etc. Those two newly divorced moms from 1977 were smart to join forces together. Sometimes it just isn't worth the fight to keep struggling on alone.

Bone Weary

I am exhausted. I wish I could stay in bed all day. I am drained to the bone and have no motivation or energy. The little bit of energy I can eek out goes toward making dinner and forcing myself to take a half hour nature walk. That restores me a little. But I feel as though I am giving up and that whatever I do or don't do from here on in doesn't matter anyway.

How did I reach this place? Is it an accumulation of all the grief and losses over the past few years combined with the stress of living and parenting on my own? I guess it has all just caught up with me and I am left holding the bag of weariness. I do think a large part of it has to do with the only parenting. I do not believe any one should have to assume and face parenting without any support as I have. If single parents lack family support there need to be better and more available programs in place to provide assistance. I know that despite my education and intelligence, that this job has been the most difficult of my life and that it has been costly to my emotional and physical health.

My Mom used to tell me about two of her aunts who had lost their husbands while they were still raising children and the entire family rallied around them to provide support. I know in today's day and age that is less likely to occur. But that doesn't mean it is right.

It is not just the solo parenting and constantly having to make the decisions and dole out the consequences and be the moral instructor. There is no one to bounce off ideas to, or to fill up my emotional tank while I am engaged in the task of caring for others.

Today I went to the doctor for more tests related to my high blood pressure. There had been a mix-up with the prescription so it couldn't be filled until today. I was told to go immediately to WalMart to pick it up and take a pill right then and there. Concern was expressed for my constant headaches and the possibility I'll pass out while driving. I went and did as instructed feeling as I went through the motions, so what? I have no one to share this with, no one who is worried about my health. If I pass out and crash the sedan still needing $600.00 in repairs the only ones with a loss at stake are my sons. That aspect of my life horrifies me. That my social circle has dwindled to the point of me having meaning to only my sons.

I write about this a lot - what I call the fatigue and drain of widowhood. Getting up everyday and going through the day alone, sometimes not talking to anyone but my sons. I know that living and feeling alone are awful for anyone, but I know from my own experience that it has been hard parenting at the same time. I would have made a much better and able widow at age 60 with the kids grown, than I did still having to raise them throughout most of their childhood on my own.

I am hopeful that the anti-depressant medication will kick in soon and provide some relief from my apathy and tiredness. I am also hopeful that once I obtain a job somewhat related to social services that I will feel as though I am making a greater contribution and better about myself. I hope that leads me to meeting people I can relate to socially so my circle will expand and I can feel less alone. I want to remain hopeful that this too will pass and someday I will be involved in an intimate relationship that brings me peace of mind, security, love and affection - keeping my fingers crossed on that one.

But in the meantime I still have to cross this bridge of hard terrain stretching out in front of me. Why is it that my moods are so volatile? Before widowhood I was never like this. Yes, there were days I was bitchy or cross, sometimes even a bit down. But never to the degree of what I have felt over the past years and never the amount of fatigue and wanting to give up. Those moods from my old life passed quickly and were forgotten. These days the highs and lows are frequent and my lows stay longer than the highs. In the past eight years there has been far more sadness than joy - more hardship than ease. I'm not even sure I care that much about happiness and joy anymore. Just some stability, enough to eat and a few people who care that I'm alive, who value my presence. Perhaps when all is said and done, that is what really matters.

To Hell and Back

I felt such a connection to the widowed mom, Deb, portrayed in last night's episode of "Losing It With Jillian." She is in my age group (54), with two kids (a boy and girl, 10 and 12), and her husband has been gone almost six years. At the start of the show she tearfully moans that she is so tired (exhausted really), has nothing left to give (especially to herself), always has to do everything by herself, and feels so alone - all aspects that I cover on a regular basis in this blog. To hear another widowed mom say and relate those same powerful laments reduced my isolation and discontent for a brief period. I didn't feel so alone or so crazy or weak or like I'm a constant complainer. I'm a tired widowed mom struggling to make ends meet just like Deb. I'm not the only one. There is another widowed mom out there who leaves her dishes in the sink too!

There were some differences in our stories. Deb's kids are younger than mine and were only four and six when their dad died compared to my sons being nine and ten. She has a daughter whom she has relied on to fill some of the emotional void. Part of the show dealt with easing this burden off the daughter. I thought about how I have gone the other way in trying to protect my sons' childhoods as much as possible to the extent that I take on too much and just can't do it all by myself. I figure the widowed are doomed no matter what we do. We'll be criticized if we ask the kids to pick up the slack and then we're criticized when we try to let them still be kids. It ends up all being a balance. The kids do need to step up to the plate more than kids living in a two-parent home. Simply based on what has happened to the family - the dad/husband has died. I've tried to protect my sons from having to face more pain. But it has come at a huge cost to me. So in the days ahead I'll work on demanding more of a family input from the guys.

When I worked as a counselor or in social services, I was extremely kind, gentle and empathic. I have always believed that you get more from honey than vinegar. I cringed when viewing Jillian's boot camp tactics. Both last night's and last week's families are dealing with grief issues in their pasts. I say lets tone it down some for people already in deep pain. But that's my opinion. I'd also recommend some therapy or counseling for these families. It is good to change from the outside in, but to change from the inside out doesn't just happen on its own. You have to work at it.

Deb's house was very cluttered with piles of stuff. In fact, I know someone with a bedroom that looks very similar to the one Deb was living in. Although I don't have the piles in our living area, I do have storage sheds filled to the brim. It looks like next week's episode is going to deal with that issue - and again, in the promo, the featured mom says she doesn't want to part with her stuff because she has already lost too much. There it is again - that word - LOSS.

I continue to hope that people watching last night's show felt empathy, compassion and gained some understanding about widowhood. It appears there is an underlying theme connecting these families - loss. Maybe there will be a greater comprehension for the havoc loss can play in our lives. I learned something about myself last night and I felt less alone. That's a pretty good combination.

Jillian told the Deb that she'd been to hell and back already. Now she needs to go on/move forward. While I understand what Jillian meant, I also felt she was just giving lip service. For some of us the hell doesn't cease. Financial worries, working, loneliness are mainstays of my life and Deb's. There was no mention of Deb having a love life and the family even admitted not engaging in many fun activities together as a family. I can totally relate to that. So I saw a bit of that can do, get over it attitude depicted. I'll counter that it's not that easy to just turn your collapsed life around. I think some viewers last night may have had the belief that Deb hadn't tired hard enough, or she'd let herself go. So not true!

Deb - My heart goes out to you as another mom who has walked in your shoes. I get you and I appreciate you. Your courage and strength inspire me to get up off the couch and try and improve my life too. If you can do it so can I!

There is no magic wand for widowed moms unless maybe we win the lottery and even that wouldn't be a total cure. Life is still hard and grueling. Deb losing 32 pounds doesn't take away the pain of not having her beloved husband here to be there for her and the kids. But it makes her physically healthier to face the road ahead. Thanks for sharing your story, Deb. You are amazing.

A Scrambled Egg Life

A glimpse of my scrambled eggs life, NOT the sugar-coated cereal life!

Last Saturday, the van wouldn't start for my son. The timing couldn't have been better. He was at his girlfriend's post-prom party and it was 3:00 a.m. So, I drove over across town but by the time I arrived, his girlfriend's dad had given a jump that enabled my son to get home. The van didn't start the next day but did a few days later. I told my son he couldn't drive it as I didn't want to worry about him being stranded somewhere and then have to pay a towing charge as well. The past week has been a bit of a challenge with me having to take the boys everywhere. They got a ride to school one morning. I didn't realize how helpful it is to have my son drive himself to school, sports meets and to his baseball games for umping. Not to mention his helping me out with picking up his brother. A little bit has gone a long way in easing the load off my back.

It was with great heaviness that I had him drive the van to our local car repair place on Thursday, my day off. Already this month I'd had the extra expenses of having to pay for my youngest's driver education fee ($200.00) and the car insurance for two vehicles (a half payment of $200.00). I was so hoping to be able to take the boys and I out for a Mother's Day meal, which would be such a treat for us.

Bad news - an $800.00 repair (fuel pump and filter) which got reduced to $500.00 because a used pump was found at a salvage yard. I was concerned about even paying the $500.00 out so the owner of the place was kind enough to work out payment arrangements with me. They'd fix the pump portion for $400.00 and I'd pay $200.00 now and $200.00 in two weeks, then have the filter replaced in June.

Making those arrangements took up a good portion of the day. Then, I had to work out payment arrangements with the electric company because now there wasn't enough money to cover that payment. To add to the merrriment, the maintenance staff was in fixing a leaking problem with our two showers, so my day off wasn't much of one.

Okay, so stuff like car breakdowns and broken water pipes happen all the time to everybody. But I think that those of us facing this kind of thing time and time on our own just get so weary of it all. There is the stess of rescuing the stranded kid, getting the van in for an inspection and then working out some kind of payment/repair arrangement. It is that mix again of the emotional and physical stress. Figuring it all out alone is the double whammy!

That's what I mean about my life being like a plate of scrambled eggs. Widowhood is not easy and with raising kids as an only parent, it is even more challenging and messy - like a plate of scramble eggs. Yet all of us are supposed to forge on with our heads up and smiles pasted on our faces. I flatly refuse anymore to pretend that everything is peachy keen. My life is not like a box of sugared Honey Combs or Capt'n Crunch cereal.

The biggest joke of all came on Friday morning. The van wasn't finished yet so the boys had planned to walk to school in the morning since I had to work, starting at 6:00 a.m. When I got up around 4:00, it was storming with heavy rain, wind, thunder and lightening. I figured it was probably too late for the boys to arrange for a ride so I called in to work saying I'd be an hour and a half late. Then I just laughed at it all. What a nutty situation!

I don't have as many options available to me to help out when life throws me a curve. What choice could I make other than take my sons to school? It wasn't safe for them to walk and they would have been soaked by the time they got to school. Whenever, something like this happens, I have had less than sympathetic responses from employers but I just don't care much about that either. I can only work with the resources I have and mine are pretty limited. As a widowed parent, my reality is that there are simply going to be days when I'm late or absent. No hubby to fall back on, or family close by or even a boyfriend around.

I don't feel uplifted and proud of myself when I successfully meet these challenges. I end up feeling drained and morose because I start wishing for that absent husband who used to take care of these things.

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.

Taking a Break from Grief, Growth & Healing

This Law of Attraction theory is freaking me out. Here is the text of an email I recently received from inspirational author Lissa Coffey's daily message on "CoffeyTalk.com."

"What you focus on, you will experience.

When you talk about "what is" or "what was," even if you're just explaining to a friendly ear, you project more of the same into the future. If you ask more than you give thanks, you'll believe less in your own power. And if you insist that it's hard and that you're lonely, you'll find that it is, and you are.

Yet, ALWAYS, you can choose to focus on what's good."

So here I am complaining about my widowhood life and the crap going on at work. I seem surrounded by discontent and hardship. And I'm having so much difficulty trying to ignite some spark of hope. I'm just plain tired physically and mentally and I am convinced that that is playing a huge part. When you're fatigued, it is even harder to harness the energy needed to go forward more optimistically. I am noticing that it is easier to continue to complain than shore up my resources and take some action - in part because I am too drained on all cylinders.

I worry about The Law of Attraction and grief in general. Some of the material I have read promotes the bettering of our depressed/hopeless feelings asap. In other words, when we start feeling down and out, even if relates to the death of a loved one, we're supposed to try and convert that energy toward less negative feelings and continue doing so as though we're climbing up a ladder. There was an exercise on this involving a daughter whose father had died. And the entire process took place in a matter of moments!

I think about the grieving process for me which lasted a good year after the death of my husband and then for more than a year after my divorce. I couldn't just wipe my grief and depression away. And I needed the times that I spent in that horrible, dark, dank, smelly, wet cave when there was no possible way I'd even be able to see a lit match directly in front of my face!

All the acknowledgment about the need for having to walk through our grief into the pain. How can that occur if we're just bypassing our feelings in an effort to be less negative?

But the real question I have for the experts on this theory is this: what happens to all of us actively grieving on whatever level we're at? We're continuously thinking and acting on depressed and negative emotions. If the theory says that we get back what we're thinking of, what happens during the intense periods of grief? Does more come our way or are we given a pass because of our circumstances? Do we all prolong the time and intensity we are grieving because of this law?

I'm sick of grieving. I'm sick of my efforts to grow, heal and come to some answers about all the shit that has happened in my life. I need a break from reading books about The Law of Attraction. I continue to come back to the idea that concentrating on me for a few weeks or months would do me a great deal of good. Doing small and simple things for my benefit and pleasure and perhaps saying "no" more to my sons. Going to a movie or two. Drinking some more wine. Maybe reading nothing in the self-help section at all for a change! Being lazy, taking some nature walks. If I can find them in the storage shed, using the roller blades I bought myself after my husband died and then never used. You get the idea. Taking a break from not only grief but also healing.

I will not be able to take a break from the job search though. Today at work someone told me that over the summer there were nine CNAs working on the second floor and now there are only seven. I have come to the realization that there is no way I can get all the work done that needs to get done - it is unattainable. And for that reason I'll have to pack my bags and go elsewhere. I can't in good conscience work in such a poorly managed environment that ultimately ends up hurting those it is most supposed to help - the residents. I can quit tomorrow if I have to - the poor people at this facility are stuck there.

I'm praying that some "me time" will end up inspiring me and providing me with some energy so I can go out there and job hunt again. And that in the process some of my hope and optimism will also be restored.