Antiquing

I really enjoy antiquing, although it has really taken a back seat in my life the past years. Now, I am making a point of visiting antique stores. The American made pottery and glassware I collect offer many items that can be found for $10-20. To me, there is something so fun and exciting about the "hunt" for pieces. But I think it may also have to do with the fact that as a child, my family would go to flea markets every Sunday. Then after the market, we'd have a meal out.

All four kids and two parents packed into a Beetle Bug. Funny how I have no desire to drive one (too small) but I do drive a PT Cruiser. Anyway, I recall these excursions taking place while I was in Junior High through my first year of high school. I remember that all of us kids would bring our homework to complete in the car! One of my brothers would have had to sit I think in that tiny back. We called it the "way back." I started to collect antique dolls and Valentine postcards. Nothing costly - I even believe I spent the first $5.00 I earned babysitting at a flea market.

It was at those markets that my family "acted" normal. Although my parents could still yell at each other in the Bettle, at least in the flea market mall they had to behave themselves. Maybe that is why I am finding myself "feeling" so secure and safe when I'm browsing in an antiques shop. It brings back memories of when I really did fell safe and secure as a child in a childhood where there aren't many memories of that.

My youngest son and I have gone on a couple of antique jaunts together and he has become quite in-the-know about the glassware I collect and is able to spot it. This time my oldest agreed to accompany us, maybe inspired by the fact that I offered to splurge on Steak n' Shake with the coupons I had. Oh I forgot, his girlfriend was out of town at her college orientation in Iowa. But no matter, I was happy both of my sons would be with me.

We hit a store out in the country about 45-minutes away. I'd never been there and it was in a beautiful old stone house. My oldest son was enthusiastic browsing and found a minature horse family in Bone China for $9.00. He purchased it for his girlfriend who is planning to be a vet. He also bought a beer stein for $10.00 deciding to start a collection in honor of his dad who was of Austrian heritage. I told him that his father had a collection himself and that I carefully packed it away, although it is hidden somewhere now in the storage shed.

I found it interesting that he would decide to start this collection which is similar to why my youngest son collects sports items from Wisconsin teams - it is where his dad grew up and went to college for his BA.

The women vendors at the shop fell in love with my sons. The fact that my oldest bought the horses for his girlfriend was sweet, as was my youngest going around and spotting my glassware. My boys are tall, good looking young men - like I don't state that enough in these posts. They're just such nice kids, wearing their Young Life shirts and interacting so pleasantly. I got to talking with one of the women who told me about her two daughters in college. I mentioned raising the boys on my own because of my husband dying. I don't bring it up that much anymore but I think I wanted some credit since the women were gushing over my sons.

This woman replied with one of those ignorant remarks that makes you just want to scream and which we get our share of. Hers was after a mumbled kind of I'm sorry: "Oh, I know someone whose father-in-law just died." Hmmm I thought. How does that relate to me or losing a husband and then having to become an only parent? Answer: absolutely nothing. But I wasn't in the mood to comment or correct her. She'd said a lot of nice compliments about my boys and I decided to let her slide. If I ever go back to the shop though and she is there, I may say something.

The Scarf of Grief

About the time the lunar eclipse hit Chicago land last night (approx. 1:30 a.m.), it was cold, overcast and snowing. I was up reading - a frantic, rather annoyed and angry mother because my oldest was out and hadn't checked in, nor was he responding to my calls to him or texts. The book was "Second Chance" by Jane Green, an author I very much enjoy. The plot revolves around four school chums who are reunited after 20 years when one of the group is killed in a terrorist attack. The following words about grief so well stated how I have felt over the years:

"The problem with grief is that it doesn't go away. As time ticks on, the rawness dissipates somewhat, and you find yourself settling in to the pain, becoming accustomed to it, wearing it around your shoulders like an old, heavy scarf.

And life has to go on. There are children to look after, meals to cook...playdates to organize. Grief has to be filed away, compartmentalized, allowed out only when the rest of your life is sufficiently organized when you can have time to yourself to give in to the pain."

I love the analogy of wearing grief around your shoulders like an old, heavy scarf. And I know that it can be terribly challenging to go on with life, putting grief on the back burner for lack of time, feeling as though there may never be an opportunity to fully mourn.

At same time as I was reading this passage and the solstice and eclipse collided, my father passed away. The hospital had my brother's work number as a contact and of course when they called his business there was no one there to answer. He had been aware that my father had been taken to the hospital but due to the heavy snow and late hour did not travel the 45-minute distance from his home to the hospital. In the morning he called the hospital to be told that my father had been discharged! He then called the assisted living facility to be advised of my father's passing. A confusing, strange exchange of messages and phone calls to say the least. I guess the hospital should have better informed my brother that my father had been "discharged" to the morgue!

I decided to go into work but felt shock and numb, sad but happy that my father is no longer suffering physically on this earth. He was in the hospital around Thanksgiving and I refrained from mentioning it because frankly, I had become so sick of the medical efforts to always heroically "save" my father's life only to have him back in the hospital the next month. When I sat in the hospital back in November with my brother we had an opportunity to talk and heal and then over Thanksgiving, the same occurred between my sister and I and we have been talking, emailing and texting regularly since. A small blessing of my father's last hospitalization was that it did bring family back together, perhaps in anticipation of what would happen less than a month later. I predicted my father would be back in the hospital by Christmas but did not think he wouldn't pull through this time. He has had more than nine lives - always making it. I should add that the last charge for his ICU room in November was $90,000.00! For a single day! Incredible!

It is tough to be a widow wearing the scarf of loss once more. There is no one here to put comforting arms around me. I read the draft of the death notice to be placed in the paper and got upset seeing that I am the only family member with no spouse's name beside mine in parenthesis. A trivial thing to be bothered about but it I can't deny that it didn't. When you lose a spouse, much of the grief borne is a solo experience because the person you relied on before is gone.

There is a different sense of loss with that of my father's passing. He was 89, in ill-health, not 54 like my late husband, in the middle of life and career with young children to raise. But there is still loss and grief and sadness. The mere knowledge that I am now without my parents is sobering.

I think between the snow, the eclipse and solstice last night that there was some magic in the air. I see my father being picked up by a sleigh, possibly even being driven by Santa and flying through the sky as he is transported to his next destination!

Birthday Blues

It was my birthday last Friday. I didn't post about it to let my feelings settle. Guess I wanted to see where they'd lead me. I did experience a letdown and some disappointment. I've posted about the lack of gifts in my life before - that is part of the reason Valentine's Day is so hard for me. Since widowhood, I haven't received flowers and gifts are a rarity. The ones you buy for yourself don't count.

So, on my big day I got a text message saying simply, "Happy birthday," a phone message and an email message. No cards, no gifts. Three impersonal messages not even given in person. I had to go to my insurance agent for a copy of one of my policies and did receive a "Happy birthday" in person there.

I struggle with whether I should be glad for getting even the message acknowledgments that I did. But I'm that half-empty glass gal and so instead I focus on the stinginess of the messages.

Now I should clarify that I have never sent cards to my family with the exception of my Mom when she was alive. So I shouldn't even expect anything from my family. And two of the messages were from family members. But I feel it would be better to have received nothing instead of paltry, duty messages. Instead of feeling noticed and cared for, I ended up feeling diminished and not worth very much if that makes any sense. Maybe I'm thinking about this all in the wrong way. But I know most days I don't feel very valuable to anyone and often I feel invisible.

I know I often disclose about my desire to remarry. How else will I have someone supportive to be by my side if I get sick like my husband was? I worry about dying alone now. There would be no one who'd come to the hospital and manage all the home care stuff that I did for three years nursing my cancer-stricken spouse. My sad little pathetic birthday is evidence of how small my social support network is. It will be up to me to try and reinforce and build it up by meeting new people and establishing myself in new social circles. But right now extra time is limited and my mood is so low it is hard for me to gain the incentive to get out socializing. I can picture it now - "Hey everyone - let's meet that attractive newcomer to our singles group - she is so depressed and negative. All she does is complain. We get so inspired by her life sucks attitude!"

All of us need to feel as though we are valued and important to others. I want to know that someone out there cares enough about me to go out and buy me a gift. In the past, before widowhood, my Mom always sent a card with a check, my husband of course gave me a gift and card as well as making sure the boys picked out something, my mother-in-law would send a card, and there would be cards and a cake at work.

All week I've told myself that my value as a person in this world is not dependent on whether or not I received a card or gifts for my birthday. I've told myself that my circumstances right now are what they are and not to take it personally. But it is hard to have a birthday seem to pass by without so much as a pause in the day-to-day routine.

I've really struggled raising the boys on my own without familial support on either side. My husband's family has not given the boys one single gift or anything since their Dad's death. Their indifference has been hard to deal with. It seems as though family thinks I'm just fine on my own but I'm not. Out of sight, out of mind. You know what the real gift could have been? A phone call other than on my birthday at any point over the past seven years where someone from my life simply called up and said, "Hey, I'm thinking of you - is there anything you need right now or something I could do?"

Ron Howard Saves the Day!

Last night my son wanted to watch the new Ron Howard produced program called "Parenthood." He had heard it was good. I don't watch much t.v. but decided to view it with him and was pleasantly surprised. The storyline centers around a close California family with four adult children, now raising their own kids. The oldest daughter has just moved back home with her parents to get back on her feet after a divorce with her musician, drug using and dealing husband. She has two teenagers, a boy and girl. The daughter is smoking cigarettes and pot. The son wants to go back home to live with his dad. Another son, also with two kids is kicked off his son's little league team as the coach for badgering an umpire who called out his son. The son, age 8 is experiencing learning and social problems - the school suspects he has Asperger's, a high-functioning form of Autism. There is sibling rivalry between the two adult daughters, one of whom is the golden girl high-powered attorney. But it appears that her marriage may not be as strong as she thought it was. The younger brother is portrayed as the commitment phobe. His girlfriend wants to have a baby, NOW, but he is not ready. Then the bomb is dropped at the end of the hour. Turns out he has already fathered a little boy but did not know until now!

Great real stuff. Thank goodness for reality and not hiding the crumbs under the rug! Middle-aged dating after divorce is one of the topics humorously brought up, along with the grandfather being told off with, "I'm not raising my kids the way you raised me." When the teenage daughter asks her mom why they have to move back with the grandparents, the mom replies, "Because we've run out of money." Just gotta love that! Now it would be great if one of the four adult kids had been widowed or maybe widowhood is reflected between the grandparents in some way. But at this point it is a minor criticism because this is such a refreshing and modern take on life today and I felt they did a very good job at it. I guess divorce is simpler to portray because it is more common for mid-lifers and easier to relate to.

So, maybe there is hope for Hollywood after all! Thank you Ron Howard for having the courage to portray a real family with real issues and real lives. I really believed this was an honest-to- good family that could actually exist! I have to admit feeling a tinge of envy while viewing this hour, though. These kids had the support of family to fall back on and that is not something I can rely on. My widowhood has been a very singualr road.

I am grateful:

1. For the springlike weather.
2. For having medical insurance (I'll devote a post to this topic in the near future).
3. For being able to take my sons to doctor appointments.
4. For being able to get my sons Rx acne medication and not pay through the nose.
5. For being offered a job (I'll post on that too).

Too Hard and Too Much

I feel that I have failed my boys. They've lost their Dad, their house, we've lived in a financially strapped position for years. The least I should be able to provide for them is some sense of safety and security in their home town and beloved school. But now my dire financial condition threatens that too.

I remarried because I fell in love but also because I felt that it would provide a better and more stable life for my boys. That turned out to be a bust.

They've done nothing but be my sons - that is their only crime. And they are being punished for it. For poor decisions I've made, for being too tired as a caregiver to my parents when I should have been concentrating on them. For feeling incompetent and scared as I try to market myself after not working for years. For feeling bitter and betrayed for the lack of support and help I've received from my family.

It has been too hard for to manage on my own. I have been a shitty "only" parent. I've needed more help and support. I haven't asked or demanded any. None has really been forthcoming. I have not been able to do this for as many years as I have.

My grief therapist says one of the top criteria as to how people manage being widowed is in direct correlation to how much support they receive from family, friends, community, church and other networks. We have not received much and now I feel too tired and drained to keep this up.

How can people just blindly turn an eye to us? My husband's family has been non-existent in regard to any contact or interest in the boys. I don't care if you blow me off but what about these young men who have lost so much, suffered and are still struggling to find their way? All I will say is that I would reach out to any relative I knew was struggling to raise children on their own and especially the children.

We were not the family to have the dad die. It should have been another family where there was a stronger support system in place with family that cared and was loving. Where family would reach out to offer love and support. The death is enough to have to recover from and survive. The being alone and financial struggles now seem insurmountable. Why? Because I'm just too damn exhausted from having had to try and get by on my own all these years. I don't have the energy or strength.

I feel as though I'm being forced to move because of the finances. But how can I keep going on like this? At least Sam loves me/us and has offered us what he can. Can't say the same of family or Husband #2.

But it just seems that this is such a sad and defeating moment. A sense of failure and rejection permeate my being. This is not how it should end. There should not have to be so many years of hardship and pain following such a major loss.

My siblings have lived the past six years in their same homes with their kids surviving no major upheavals or losses. How can no one fathom the amount of pain that accompanies the loss of two husbands and a home? These are tragic and horrific losses. To have to wake up every day after suffering these events and face the world and parent on one's own and try to plan and figure out the future alone - no husband/wife by your side to talk to and share the worries, as well as the burdens.

What has the world expected of us? Why has the world cast down its evil so much on this little family? Couldn't it have been spread around a bit or bypassed us? I hate life and the world right now. I don't like writing or feeling like this. It is scary to let such rage come out to the surface. But my therapist says bottling this stuff up is what leads people to become nasty and bitter. And I don't want that for my future. I do not want to be an ugly person inside as well as one who grieves. The grief is enough!

Black Friday Survivor

I am so glad that I went into Thanksgiving with a neutral mindset. We went to my brother's home and if I could have had it my way, would have skipped it. But my oldest wanted to go and I bit the bullet and decided to make the best of it. My family is not particularly close, something that I struggle with. And over the past months, the estrangement has been quite painful, as I've had to deal with the divorce and loss of my home. The last I spoke with my sister was in April.

Going in with a neutral frame of mind helped in that I just accepted what was going on in the here and now. I forgot the hurt and resentment I've felt and dropped the expectations about how I think a family should act. I just tried to be and all in all it was a good experience. My sister and I spoke and I hope the rift that has been between us has lifted. The entire family told me that they missed GF not being there. In fact, my brother said it was not the same without him. All were supportive about the move/marriage. My sister said good men are hard to come by and GF is a good man. We ended up calling GF and wishing him a Happy Thanksgiving. Poor GF said nothing much was open except Walmart. So he had a Hungry Man TV Dinner (chicken). He told my brother that he hopes this will be the last Thanksgiving he will have to spend alone.

Today I survived working Black Friday from 8:00 - 4:00. I gave my notice and said I am moving. So I suppose it is official to some extent.

Eroded Foundation

I am working on packing up the house and keep reflecting on how the beliefs I once held so strongly were just illusions.

- I believed that when you marry and take the wedding vows, that it does mean forever. I stood by my husband's side during his three-year battle with cancer. Never would I have even considered for a moment leaving him because of "hard times." Yet that is exactly what my second husband did. And he made the decision to divorce me without even discussing it or saying goodbye to either me or the boys. So much for that speech he gave during our wedding about being a real "Father" to "Our" sons, as he referred to them.

- I believed that family stands by you (emotionally) through thick and thin. That if you are ever in need of a warm embrace, place to stay, forgiveness, support or hot meal that your family will not turn its back and pretend/ignore that your life is not falling apart.

- I believed that if you are a good, kind, caring, decent person then good things will come your way, not "excessive" hardship and challenge. All of us have to face difficulties, but it just seems that it gets worse and worse for me. My husband dying was enough. I don't want to bear any more grief and loss.

- I believed that a strong, college education could always be relied on to support oneself - there would always be decent jobs if you have a master's degree. But try looking for a job when you haven't done so for 10 years, you can't seem to get the hang of applying for jobs online, you have been a full-time "only" parent the past five years, you've lost touch with your professional contacts, you're not up to speed in your field professionally and THERE IS A RECESSION GOING ON so the only jobs you've been offered are for part-time hours without benefits.

- I believed that in middle-age, I would be financially stable and secure not on the brink of bankruptcy and contemplating taking a certificate program of some sort to obtain relevant job skills in today's economy/market.

- I believed that having grown up in a middle-class childhood home that I would never face foreclosure or having to live in an apartment at the age of 50.

- I believed that I would not have to start over from the bottom, 25 years after graduating from college, in worse shape financially, emotionally and physically.

20 years ago, I would never have believed that my first husband would die leaving me a middle-aged widow with two school-aged sons to raise on my own. Nor when I remarried three years ago, would I ever have believed the tragic and agonizing outcome of this marriage. This whole period of my life seems surreal, like a nightmare. I almost feel like I am being sucked down a whiling drain in a bathroom sink. I can almost feel the physical sensations of going down that drain opening. Or I can also picture it as being eaten alive by a prehistoric monster of some sort. Or being sucked into the undertow of the ocean. Or how about the analogy of waking up one day to a world that you're unfamiliar with. All of what you've believed and held to be true no longer exists. The foundation of your soul is shaken. You don't know what to expect anymore. The rules changed without your knowledge. Suddenly you've lost your footing, fallen and you honestly don't know how to get sense of security and safety back.

After this rather dramatic and unappealing ending here I have to go now into my list of what I'm grateful for. Today I hardly feel like compiling my list. And it seems so abrupt to go from negative to positive but I've been making an effort to keep this list up so won't stop now.

Today I am grateful:

1. For the drops of rain I saw shimmering on the bushes in front of my picture window this morning.
2. For the cooler autumn like weather we are having again.
3. For my hanging baskets of flowers in the front lawn. They are full, lush and colorful.
4. For the fact that I have possessions to move into a new residence - some people lose everything in natural disasters.
5. For knitting, which provides me with such a creative and comforting outlet.

The Walking Wounded

It was not my intent to rage, rant, vent or snipe when I wrote yesterday's post. Rather, it was an almost desperate measure to try and cope with overwhelming grief brought on by the prospect of leaving the house I have resided in for the past 19 years; having sold it for only $500.00 more than what it was appraised at 20 years ago; and being flung into the unknown future with the reality of not having a familial safety net to rely on or fall onto. That the past six years since my husband's death have been chaotic and unpredictable has no doubt strengthened the feelings of loss I have surrounding my home. These four physical walls have represented the only stability the boys and I have really had since my husband's death and now even that is being torn from us.

I know everyone has their own problems and demons. A married couple I am friends with is in the process of foreclosure also. But they have one another to lean on for comfort and support. Another friend is losing the day-to-day contact with his 11-year-old son, as his ex-wife has remarried and moved to a town out-of-state, six hours away. I sympathize with my friend at his loss but at the same time consider him fortunate that he and his ex-wife jointly share parenting responsibilities to some extent. Try waking up every morning being the sole worrier about your children's health, grades, socialization, safety and on top of that being frantic about the need to house, feed and clothe them.

For me personally, part of life's challenge has been the struggle to move forward despite having to confront so much pain in a brief period of time - multiple grief losses and secondary grief losses is how I refer to them. Every loss brings up new pain and reactivates the hurt of the old ones. My divorce contributed to the financial nightmare I am currently experiencing, as well as bringing up feelings of abandonment, rejection, instability and insecurity that no doubt have their roots in my long ago past. I am so weary...

If only my husband hadn't died - I wouldn't be in this position nor would I even be writing this post. And probably all of those miserable feelings of childhood pain and loss would still be deeply buried.

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.

Ghosts of the Past

My closest girlfriend and I went out to eat Friday night, her treat because her father had just sent her a check for $10,000.00! There was no reason he sent it - just because. My friend was divorced at the same time my husband was ill. Her dad also gave her a new van, and I also have another girlfriend, just divorced, whose dad gave her a car as well as some money. One of these friends is a teacher, the other a nurse - both work full-time and have ex-husbands in the picture (to share the carpooling with, childcare, etc.). Although I am truly happy for the good fortune of my friends, there is still a big part of me that struggles with the unfairness of it when I compare their family situations with mine.

My sister, two brothers and I are not close. My sister and one brother live in the area, the other brother lives in Hawaii. All are successful and have homes and children ALONG WITH SPOUSES! We do get together a few times a year for holiday celebrations where everyone pretends to be closer than we are. I struggled this Easter (actually agonized) about whether to go to my brother's home or not. I feel a great deal of despair and sadness over my siblings not really caring about our foreclosure or my recent divorce. In the end I went to my brother's home and did bring up our current situation with the foreclosure. News of our affairs is taken on a very matter-of-fact level. My three closest friends have all extended offers that we can stay in their homes if the need arises. No such offer has come from my family. During the nine-month period of my divorce my sister only talked to me once. If she were going through any type of hardship with her husband I would have been at her door with a chocolate cake and two forks, taken her out for a drink, gone window shopping to distract her and LISTENED!

The biggest issue that haunts me is that I am not after any type of handout or financial assistance. I'll deal with this situation as well as I can. What I crave and expect even to a certain extent is a moderate amount of verbal sympathy, encouragement and support which doesn't cost a dime! Since Easter I have not heard from any of my family. My sister is upset with me for some reason I am guessing has to do with my dad (perhaps that I do not see him as regularly as she does) but I am projecting because she has refused to discuss the matter with me despite my pleas to her to tell me what is wrong.

When you are grieving losses, unresolved losses from the past come back to haunt you. I know in my family's case, we have had to deal with the ghosts of the past brought on by my father's Alzheimer's disease and my mom's death two years ago. The two years they were both very sick were difficult for all of us. Then we were involved in clearing out our large childhood home and having it sold. The ghosts that returned involved the pain of having been raised in an abusive (physical and emotional) home by neglectful parents, one of whom was an alcoholic and suffered from mental illness. It is terribly painful for me to write these words but over the past months as I've dealt with the grief of my husband's death and then my divorce, I've also been battling deeply ingrained feelings of self-worth, abandonment and rejection with roots in my childhood.

My therapist tells me that my siblings are reacting in response to the way we are all raised. No one in my family ever acknowledged the truth (it always had to be hidden). I try to keep this all in perspective as I deal with my current housing and financial situation. But there are days when it is harder than others. Hearing about how more "normal" families interact with, help and support one another is tough. It seems to me that it is a pretty small request to have a sibling make contact with me to wish me well or say they are thinking of me. And there is additional hurt that my family hasn't been involved with my sons. Some days I actually feel that if the three of us fell off the face of the earth no one would really care (and in my family no one would even notice for months!).

It is not easy to turn these terribly sad but true words around and come up with my gratitude list next but I'll so my best and try to keep it simple so I don't have to think too much.

Today I am grateful:

1. That there were a few hanging flower baskets on clearance left at the hardware store because I can only afford the really marked down flowers - but I did get some.
2. That my my sons are healthy, active and happy despite the financial hardships that surround us.
3. That the boys improved their academic grades this year despite the stress going on in our home because of the divorce.
4. For my male friend who came and cut down some dead tress in the yard and watched the boys at their baseball game while I was at work.
5. For the friends who have become like family in the wake of my misfortune.

Talking til I am blue in the face

For me, one of the hardest aspects of widowhood has been my inability to explain to others my feelings and new life realities. Particularly with my family and my second husband. I've talked until I've been blue in the face to no avail and it is still causing much frustration. Briefly, my family has not understood how hard it has been for me to parent alone, handle finances, work, manage the house, etc. Nor do I think that they have been tolerant of the grief process. They have also failed to step up to the plate in any way to interact with the boys or provide a male influence (my brothers and brother-in-law).

Since April I have been corresponding by email on a very limited basis with my ex-husband. Last night he sent me a scathing message accusing me of always putting him last, one of the reasons he divorced me. During the brief time of our marriage, I was helping to care for both of my parents (one dying and the other terribly ill) while still doing the only parent routine. I just couldn't manage it all, I admit. But part of me now is getting pissed off at this lack of compassion and just plain decency. (No one in my family has offered any emotional support during my divorce and now during this foreclosure. I guess I shouldn't expect anything because they didn't provide any during my husband's illness either. Nor should I be surprised that I ended up remarrying a man whom replicated my family in certain ways.)

I just don't want to be punished anymore for the decisions I made under duress about caring for my parents that resulted in my not moving quickly enough to my husband's home out of state. Enough is enough. Everyone always thinks that they would have done better but the fact is that no one knows how they would cope/manage under challenging circumstances. And to assume they would have handled the situation better is unfair. The way I handled that part of my life is in direction reaction to the fact that my husband had died a mere three years before and that two years before I'd had to care for my youngest who had been diagnosed with a life threatening heart condition. This made it impossible for me to leave my parents in their hour of need to move into my new husband's home 120 miles away. There was so much stress and tension going on along with the boys not wanting to move and leave their friends that I could not face the move. I had to take care of what was happening on the home front first.

I have gone over and over this with my ex to no avail. (Even my siblings have criticized me for not moving sooner). And here I am trying to explain it again to my husband after the divorce. At one point I just wrote him that I will not grovel anymore - I did the best I could under horrific circumstances. Why is it so hard for those closest to me to give me any credit for what I did do? The loyalty I gave my parents and the parenting care I provided my children during this horrible period so soon after my husband's death? I just am throwing in the towel here. I know what I accomplished and my dignity is intact. I refuse to be browbeaten and condemned. It would seem that my family and ex deserve a swift kick in their pants for their lack of compassion far more than I deserve to be continually criticized for what has been done. The reality is that they have not been emotionally supportive and that is yet another loss that I have to face, accept, forgive and move on from. I always believed that a family stood by its members in their darkest hours, including husbands, as I did for mine. This has not turned out to be my reality and it has been a painful realization.

Today I am grateful:
1. That I have had an opportunity to communicate (such as it has been) with my ex.
2. That I never gave into temptation and actually did all those evil plots I wanted to inflict during my divorce when I was so angry - that would have been pointless and accomplished nothing.
3. That I am starting to stand up for myself because if I don't no one else is going to for me.
4. That I am proud of what I have lived through and know it was the right way for me to have lived despite the criticisms of others.
5. That I am beginning to realize that I don't have to subject myself to dysfunctional relationships if I don't want to (I can limit my family contact, etc. in the future).