Unity

My youngest son, A., asked me if I would be attending the prom photo extravaganza this Saturday, with parents taking 200 shots of their teens before the dance. There was a question in his voice as he asked me this because he knows going to these events by my lonesome is not something I like to do. He even asked if Sam could come with me so I would not be alone. I will be meeting his girlfriend's parents for the first time. I assured him that I will be nice and not do any weird widow stuff.

It is unsettling for me to go to these things always facing off with couples. Something about being the underdog... It is awkward and uncomfortable. I go because I want to be there but am so relieved when the whole hour-long thing is over. I grin and bear it.

There is such an emotionally draining aspect of always having to go in and out of situations alone, meet new people who are part of a couple, constantly have the courage or faked confidence to walk into a place without someone familiar to lean on - to feel vulnerable and alone in new situations and circumstances.

I thought of the word unity and how for me it means togetherness and joining two or more into a supportive unit. When I looked the word up in the dictionary I was surprised to see that it means the state of being one. And here I am, alone and one, wanting to be part of a unit.

Remember all the "United We Stand" slogans that were bantered around after 9/11? There was such an emphasis on joining together and becoming unified. The emphasis is on a group acting as a unified front and therefore, the unit is stronger than the individual. I do feel that two are stronger than one. That there is a weakness in standing on my own two feet all the time. Of course I am a strong woman, who has done her best over the years to get on by myself and raise two boys on my own. But on Saturday I will be severely reminded that a lone duck on a pond is more at risk, less safe than those ducks within the safety of a group.

People think that facing challenges makes us stronger. That we grow used to our circumstances and more accepting or tolerant of them. Swimming in that pond on Saturday I will be the stray duck on the outskirts of the flock left behind as the others swim off together without a glance behind them, secure, safe and together in unity.

Simplicity

Continue to struggle big time with all of the unbalance in my life. Maybe it stems from being the start of Spring and our desire to clean up house, new beginnings and fresh starts.

Widows carry a lot of stuff on their shoulders. I think about the fact that I have a senior in high school with another senior next year. That's a lot right there not to mention dealing with the finances, upkeep of home, meals, shopping, laundry, etc. I manage the lives of two adolescent males. I still have to figure out what to do with the rest of my life and then take the steps to get there. There is a career change in the works. I am still unsettled from the move from house to apartment and the grief/sadness/loss from the death of husband #1 and divorce from husband #2 sometimes reappear.

Perhaps when we are at our most busy and overwhelmed with so many life changes we need to scale back and keep life as simple as possible. I was reminded of this with my daily email from author Lissa Coffey through CoffeyTalk.com. The other day she spoke about the book, "The Four Agreements" by Don Miguel Ruiz. I read the book years ago.

Basically, the book sets out four principles to help us lead better lives through The Four Agreements which are:

1. Be impeccable with your word.
2. Don't take anything personally.
3. Don't make assumptions.
4. Always do your best.

I went to my bookshelves and after a bit of a search (the books are still somewhat disorganized from the move), located this little volume. It seems a good book to take out and reread right now.

Funny, in her weekly email from the knit club leader, she also wrote about feeling highly unbalanced as of late. I sent her an email copying in Lissa Coffey's message and suspecting she had already read The Fourth Agreement, which she had. She emailed back that now there is a book about The Fifth Agreement, which she just bought, and I am curious about checking that out after I reread about the four agreements again.

As I struggle with major life changes wrecking havoc on my soul, the knit club leader related her current struggles with angst. She is struggling with what books to read next and about taking her next classes in The Library Assistant Program. Her two kids are out of college and grown. She has a hubby. Hmmmmm... I need to put a lid on my hmmmm and remember to not make any assumptions!

A Christmas Carol

Today my sons and I went into Chicago to see A Christmas Carol at the famed Goodman Theatre. The tickets were paid for by my brother. He and the rest of my sibs and their families have a tradition of doing something like this on this day. In the past, I've declined going due to finances. This year when my brother inquired if we would be able to attend, I just admitted I would be unable to afford the cost of the tickets and he offered to pick them up. Before, I may have declined but this year I accepted thinking about how long it has been since my sons and I have been to a show. When my husband was alive, taking in a show like this in the city with and without the boys was a regular activity in our lives. So I did this today for my sons - to give them something I can't right now.

The sold-out production was incredible! The sets and special effects alone were outstanding. Yes, this was a rare and special treat. Yet at the same time I struggled emotionally throughout the day. Taking the train into the city, I was struck by the suburban girls of our town, a group of which rode in with us for a fun day of shopping and chatting. They all held piping hot cups of Starbucks and I had to hold back my feelings of envy as I thought back to my last Starbucks, which was one year ago! The girls were Juniors and my youngest son blushed throughout the ride as they waved to him and said, hello. He did his best to hide on the train...

We are down to our last $20.00 before payday (Wednesday) and that went for the train tickets. Knowing we wouldn't have money to spend on food in Chicago I packed PB & J sandwiches, apples and some cinnamon pretzels I'd baked for breakfast and we ate on the train. My car is on empty and the van is low - the pantry is pretty bare. The next few days are going to be tough.

I haven't been into Chicago for about two years and getting into the station and being accosted by all the fancy food stalls did hit me. But the decorations in the station alone were delightful and I tried to enjoy them. No money for a cab so walking - but that is okay. It is just nice to know you have the funds available if you want to grab a cab. We met my brother at a cute restaurant and again, I felt sadness at not being able to afford even a drink for the boys. There was a huge sign advertising a new sandwich at Corner Bakery and I have to say I almost drooled over it (food has kind of become an obsession in my life as of late).

Leaving my family to hurry (run is more like it) to catch the earlier train back, I felt a bit more sadness that it is likely they are all going out to dinner together somewhere, while the boys and I returned home to leftover 4-Bean Chili over spaghetti. I had a migraine on the way home and was pretty miserable. Probably a combination of not eating enough, emotional tension and the mad dash to the station. I tried to block out the images of the intact families I saw on the train, especially all the moms chatting on their cells as to where their families are headed for their holiday vacations. I just reminded myself - "Don't compare yourself to them - you're not one of them anymore." It is good to get out and about in the world but the solitude of widowhood does also serve the purpose of insulation from the pain of life's discrepancies.

The message of A Christmas Carol is of course the timeless one that in the end, friendship, family, love, kindness and generosity are more important than wealth and money. Yet despite this message, this day was so full of contradictions and struggling with my situation. I think that for me I have dealt with my widowhood as best I can and pretty well. The real hardship for me has been the challenges I've faced being a poor one. There is the bizarre contradiction of being able to attend a show like this but then to have to use our last funds for the train tickets to get there. It sometimes feels like I have my feet in two different countries - the one of former suburban mom because I still am living in the community and that of widow living under extremely reduced circumstances.

Afterthought - I hope my depictions of financial struggle do not cause anyone discomfort. This blog is my way to honestly and openly deal with the struggles I have had to unfortunately face as a widow. We will make it through the next days, we always do. I do hope to someday in someway better convey to our society the difficulties some only parents face after being struck by tragedy. I have to keep in mind those in our nation suffering more than we are and to be thankful for the roof over our heads and the fact that we even have 4-Bean Chili to eat. There are always those suffering more than we and today I pray for them. Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol to better depict the plight of the poor during his time. I reflect on my oldest who recently bought the homeless man he passed dinner. Despite our hardship, he reached out and gave to someone more in need. Maybe that is what we all need to concentrate on during this season.

Poor Mom's Chili Soup for when there is nothing left in the pantry

4 Different cans of beans, don't drain (black, pinto, kidney, etc.)
1 can chicken broth
1 -2 cans chopped tomatoes (I use the ones with green chilies)
1 packet chili seasoning
1 -2 T. chocolate chips or grated chocolate

Heat, simmer and serve over rice or noodles, topped with cheese and sour cream

Makes a ton!

Wine Tasting

I haven't been much of a drinker the past seven years. Not that I don't enjoy a mixed drink before dinner or a glass of wine with dinner. And there were fun times when I got a bit tipsy during a night on the town with the girls. It is just that when my husband died, I became worried about being the sole provider for the boys and concerned about possible DUIs so I limited my drinking when I was out to only one and always with food. Then of course, I wasn't socializing that much anyway.

I suppose I could have indulged at home but I always felt that I needed to have as many of my wits about me caring for the boys 24/7. The last couple of days, however, I've had a craving for a glass of wine in the evening. Maybe it is that the days are getting shorter and colder. Or that I want to feel a bit more relaxed and mellow even beyond what my anti-depressant and anti-anxiety meds are providing.

So I took the big step and picked up a bottle of my favorite red, Cabernet Sauvignon at ALDI for the big cost of $2.99 a bottle. NEVER in my life have I purchased such a cheap bottle of wine but I see a lot of people buying it and there is a cute winking owl on the label which is the name brand.

Got home all excited about trying my cheap bottle of wine with my cheap comfort food dinner. This is what I always make when I need a comfort food dinner: mix a can of cream of chicken soup, 1/3 cup sour cream, cooked frozen vegetables and chopped cooked turkey or chicken in a baking pan. Top with prepared Stove Top Dressing and bake for 30 minutes at 400 degrees. There is never any left when I make this and the cost = about $3.50 total, only about $1.25 per person!

But after all the big build up, I couldn't find my cork screw! So the taste test is delayed until tomorrow when I can run to the dollar store for a new one. I will provide a rating.

I suppose the other insight from this post has to do with how much widowhood changes us. Habits we used to engage in regularly vanish from our lives. Widowhood truly impacts and influences us in so many ways at so many levels. My wine drinking habits, just a minor example - sometimes it blows my mind how my widowhood has so deeply affected me. Finally, buying this inexpensive bottle of wine is something I did for myself - a small measure of self-nurturing and care.

Round and Round She Goes

I wish it were all easier. I feel as though I don't fit in anywhere. I'm not finding entry level jobs, nor higher level jobs. Where are the ones that would fit me right now? Those in the middle? I'm apparently not qualified enough for the more professional jobs and yet when I see who is working at the entry level ones, it is clear that I don't fit in there at all. I applied for two positions at the local grocery store. No interest in me, even with my Big Box Store experience. When I shopped there the other day, there were three middle-aged cashiers gabbing, waiting on no one and the one at my register didn't start waiting on me until they stopped chatting. I just stood there waiting to see how long it would take and didn't say a word. So here is who is working there and someone like me who jumped on taking care of customers gets passed over. Very frustrating!

A couple of weeks after my husband died, I was in the grocery store reaching for some pears. And a quite elderly woman's hand brushed against mine. She had come to the store from the retirement home and I remember thinking to myself, I am sure this woman is a widow. And yet, here am I a widow also, at age 44, probably 40 years her junior. That is the first time I referred to myself as Widow in the Middle. I wasn't an widow as she was but nor was I a widow with little babies, a young widow.

Now I don't even know where I fit in. Certainly no longer in this community of intact families. I have sadly learned that a community doesn't make a home no matter how quaint and pretty it is if you're lonely and have no one to share life with. I've stayed here for the boys and high school but at this point am ready to relocate. Living here is a hindrance for me. I understand now why people say it can be a good thing to move and start over fresh in a new location.

I have never disclosed the real reason I plunged into a deep depression at the end of the summer. I found out that my Master's degree qualifications to sit for counseling licensing in my state were changed about two years ago. They increased the number of hours in the Master's program and I don't have enough to sit for the license. So in a way, my MA is worthless at least from the perspective of being a licensed professional counselor in Illinois. This absolutely devastated me.

Now my mood is more stable and the dust has settled. I will have to use my Master's in Psych/Counseling as a launching point into a new career. I suppose I can find a social services job in the field but with all the managed care requirements for payment, they want licensed professionals. I doubt I'll find work as a counselor since I am not license eligible. Very distressing.

Having gone to all these financial aid meetings for my son going on to college, I am considering going back to school myself for some job retraining. A program just at the community college level - maybe the Library Aide or something in health care management. I don't know what else to do to progress so I can make somewhat of a decent living for myself and my sons.

What also upset me in the past months is the disconnect I have felt with Sam - we haven't seen one another since mid-August and a main issue between us is his inability to commit to some sort of exclusive relationship status. I am tired of that and want more. I deserve better. Widowhood is hard enough than to be dealing with a guyfriend not on the same page in regard to what the definition of a relationship is. I haven't given up on Sam because he still means something to me but I am discouraged.

I've already experienced a lot of ambiguity these past few years and to be in an "undefined" relationship, without work, on my own stumbling along here makes me long for some part of my life that is defined, known and predictable. I know none of us really know where we will be tomorrow. Nothing is ever a given. But I want to know that I have a decent job/career, a kind man in my life who loves and respects me and our relationship and I want to know that I'm headed out of this pit of uncertainty. I want to laugh more and feel joy (real joy) in my heart again. I want to have a man buy be a cup of tea or glass of wine and be interested in what I have to say (truly). I want to be of value to an employer again and to have my financial burdens eased.

All these steps I'm taking just to keep on living and going on and yet I only seem to be turning around in circles.

Beyond the First Year

Does anyone know of a decent grief book about widowhood for the years after the first? I know there are a fair amount of books about getting through the first year - those initial weeks and months of intense grief, how to manage the first anniversaries, etc. But I haven't come across those that deal with life after the dust has settled and life has moved on but you're still kind of stuck. Or put another way, you're trying to go forward but your wheels seem to be spinning in the mud. The world is going forward but you seem not to be moving along with it.

Take for instance an issue heavy on my mind of late. What do you do about lingering feelings of resentment, jealousy and envy when interacting with people more fortunate? I wish there was a whole chapter devoted to this issue. And what about the reality of having to continue to live in a world with some pretty clueless people when you've changed. You're no longer the petty, selfish person you once were but you're interacting with people who don't see life as you do.

There is a very self-absorbed mom of a son on my boys' baseball team. I've known her for years and she monopolizes the conversations on the stands, every topic is about her and she just drones on and on about stuff that just has no personal meaning for me - nor does she ever inquire how you are. Anyway, we all know people like this in our lives. Usually I try to tune her out, especially when her topic involves having to alter her daughter's cheerleading outfit because she has grown so much within three months. How this topic can last an hour is beyond me but it does.

The other day she was lamenting the fact that she was so exhauted, tired and drained having just returned from her vacation at Disney in Florida. She explained how waiting in line for rides in the hot summer sun is so exhausting. When I encounter situations like this I wish I had the courage to say, "Lady, you don't know what exhaustion really is. I haven't had a vacation in six years. You are so fortunate to have been able to get away and had the time to wait in line for a roller coaster." But of course, I just smile and nod understandably. In my mind my fantasy involves grabbing her by her sholders and shaking her!

I wonder what this women would be blabbing about if she were widowed. She would have been an excellent widowhood spokeman - for getting out the word about how challenging widowhood really is. But anyway, my point is that as widows we often confront these clueless people and sometimes I am clueless myself as to how to react. I wish I could get out my "Widowhood For Dummies Beyond the First Year" to search out an answer.

Fantasy vs. Reality

Had a distressing and disheartening career counseling appointment today. Almost started crying a couple times. I thought I was going to receive some direction in creating a job search plan. Evidently this session was for long-term career counseling. It wasn't until the end of the appointment that I figured out that we were not on the same page. So I made another appointment for Tuesday to get what I need.

Basically, this guy sat with me for an hour and told me that I am "all over the place" in regard to my looking for employment. Which I do not dispute. He advised me to really hone in on the type of job I am seeking because everything is specialized today. I tried to explain that I am not really specialized in anything specific. I was trained to be a generalist counselor. He gave the example of a woman he knows who finds her "greatest joy" in working with domestic violence victims. He asked me what my greatest joy or passion is and I replied, "Working at a job so I can provide for my children." Where would I really work if I could follow my bliss? A book store, yarn store or library. But we're not talking bliss here, we're talking survival.

This career counselor actually put me down for my attitude of trying to find a job (any job) as quickly as possible. He tried to talk me into putting my main focus into finding more professional work in my field of social services/counseling. He dismissed my explanations that when I looked for work in my field, I was only offered on-call or 10-hour-a-week positions. I firmly stated that as an only parent I must accept full-time employment - I don't have the luxury of just working 10-hours a week with no benefits. But according to this guy, I should consider them to get my foot in the door. This isn't practical for me. Hello - I am the sole bread winner in my family of kids fast approaching going to college.

Sadly, the reality of my situation did not seem to hit this guy. My reality doesn't allow me the extra time to spend months on the job hunt. I pretty much have to take whatever is offered me as soon as it is offered. And that doesn't bother me. I just want and need to have some kind of work to be bringing in some funds.

I was told not to act, appear and sound too desperate. But at the same time must be enthusiastic and sell myself. I need to be "the best athlete at the top of the pyramid." We won't even bother to go into the strain of playing the B.S. games that abound when job hunting. And that is on top of worrying about feeding the kids and putting gas into the van to get to job interviews.

We talked a little about networking and I explained that in the years I stopped working outside the home to care for sick family members, I'd lost touch with my former co-workers. I tried to relate how isolating widowhood is when raising school-aged children. It was recommended that at the next school activity I attend, say a volleyball game, that I "work" the bleachers and tell everyone that I am looking for that specific job - whatever that will turn out to be. Oh boy, I'm really looking forward to that. It is hard enough for me to attend school events on my lonesome. Now I'll have the added pleasure of "working" the bleachers. Right.

At the end of our session, I was asked what "groups" I am involved with. I said, none. "None? No church groups?" I tired to explain how tough it is to get through the laundry, make dinner and do the dishes much less socialize in any capacity. But there is that superwoman mentality rearing its ugly head again. Not only am I supposed to function as an only parent with virtually no assistance but also be out there off to job club meetings and the like. I did ask at the library yesterday if there were any book discussion groups and was told no. In my life before widowhood I was a PTA officer and committee chair. Activities and groups like that faded away as the reality of functioning as an only parent took over.

I did mention that I blog and was asked how many follow. I replied maybe a dozen. So now my homework is to try and find job contacts or connections via this blog. I said that this is a nationwide blog but apparently that isn't supposed to matter in this cyber age. Well, I am not combining job searching with this personal grief blog. I will join the Wed. a.m. job club that meets at the center and keep looking for a book club.

In the end, Mr. Job Counselor Guy, whom I should add is unemployed and a volunteer himself, was pretty critical of my "I can't do this attitude" that sometimes was exposed. I countered him by saying that I need to look for work in the here and now and long-term goals are on the back burner for now. Since when did working to put food on the table for your kids become a dishonorable goal? In fact, when I was going through hints for surviving hard economic times, one tip was to go back to school for a short-term program such as the CNA one I completed to get a job ASAP. I can concentrate on a more "fun" job later when the need is not so intensely dire.

I guess my whole impression about this encounter was how little people and especially the untouched fail to comprehend the situation I am in relating to my widowhood. I don't know why I can't be taken at face value. It is what it is, although I dislike that expression. I need a job. I need a job now. I'm willing to pretty much do anything for the time being. It is a necessity. I don't have much choice. My pension is not enough for us to survive on. We have to supplement it with food from the food pantry.

I was reminded that I'll hear the word "No" plenty of times while looking for working. And I suppose along the way I'll meet more than a few people who don't get it. There needs to be acknowledgment at least that my situation may not be the same as others. That is all I really want and have ever wanted. Just recognize that I'm living with circumstances that might require some tweaking or another approach. Give me some credit for where I'm coming from. Don't put me into that one-size-fits-all box.

To be fair, this guy did say I have a lot of great job, volunteer and life experience and that I need to harness this and really sell it. He also was complimentary of my achievement of having a Master's Degree for which I will always be grateful. And I will not totally dismiss everything that was discussed. Job counselor guy made some cogent points and I need to filter in everything that is offered. I'll reflect on his suggestions. But I don't think he'll give me or my situation another thought.

Being Brave in a New World

I had assistance navigating the online job boards yesterday at the career center. It took over an hour for me to post my resume and apply for one job. I was struck as I struggled through this, how much job hunting is similar to the grief process. You feel like a fish out of water or trying to swim upstream. It is hard, stressful, tiring and discouraging - two steps forward, one step back. This is not a circumstance any of us signed up for - and for many, it is an unexpected, surreal shock. There are new rules and new ways of doing things as well as even looking at the world. But for a long while, we don't know what these new rules are and we struggle to fit in.

What really hit me was how hard I seem to be resisting change. I haven't seriously had to look for a job in about 10 years. And back then you faxed your resume to a potential employer or used the mail, plus a lot of phone calling. I am not a proficient computer user and am now having trouble figuring out all the online nuances and details. But I just want to do things the old way, the way that was comfortable for me and always got me results. I am floundering in this job market just as I floundered and still flounder with grief. I just want the comfort level of my old world when I knew what fit what and where. Sounds a lot like what I used to say when I would moan, "I just want him back" or "I just want my old life again."

In the end, we're pretty much forced to adapt. We have to resign ourselves to this. After a few weeks on my own and not getting any results with the job search, I sought assistance from a career placement center. Today I am meeting with them again and we'll discuss a job searching plan. Right now I'm in the dark and don't have any real direction on how to proceed.

That's what happened in the end after I was widowed. And again when I was divorced. Just have to dig in my heels and face the world which looks rather intimidating and threatening. The only major difference I see between unemployment and grief is that eventually the unemployment will end because a job somewhere, somehow will come into fruition. But of course, we all know the ending for our grief tales. Our partners are not returning - no tidy and happy endings there.

I am grateful:

1. For low-cost job searching assistance.
2. That the snow that came again is not a blizzard - but we all are sure getting tired of the white stuff.
3. For living in a safe community.
4. For the wide array of skills and experiences I have behind me - it will all come together in the end.
5. That in a week it will be March.

Time

TIME: The perception of time, lack of time, beating the clock, deadlines, time heals all wounds, free time, time line myths, schedules and time for change.

The following insights come from my experience as a widow. I'm not sure if others have had similar experiences. I am relating them now because they have frustrated me. And I'm trying to get a handle on them so I can make some positive changes in dealing with these issues.

1. First of all, since I have been widowed and stopped working outside the home, people seem to assume that I have loads of free time. There doesn't seem to be any recognition or sympathy toward the fact that in losing a helpmate, I now have to handle a job previously handled by two. The sad part of the matter is that when there is more on your plate to handle, you're also more tired and consequently the jobs getting done are not up to your usual standards. There is a lot of just making do or getting by. You also have to figure out how to handle a lot of jobs and duties you don't know how to do because in the past, your spouse took care of them. It is frustrating. Also, suddenly having to worry about everything on your own takes up time because you have to figure out new ways to plan and do things.

Maybe this misconception comes from the fact that people don't see what is going on inside our homes. They don't see the piled up laundry, the stacks of bills, the weariness that exists in our souls from managing all of the shopping, cooking, lawn work, car maintenance and child care. So while I haven't worked outside the home for much of my widowhood, the work load within my home and life has increased. There has been minimal time off for relaxing or down time which is another matter as well.

2. Despite the time constraints of having to fit too much into a day that is too short, the world still expects us to meet all the established deadlines. I have also found that with people it is the same thing. I'm expected to go out with someone or meet with them according to their time frames and schedules. Rarely has anyone expressed an interest in trying to accommodate my schedule. When my husband died I lost the power of two and the power of being in a couple. I honestly believe that I became diminished in importance, value and worth since I am alone. As a result, people have been less polite and respectful to me. In a way, it has sometimes felt like people could walk all over me because my husband wasn't around to "protect" me.

3. My grief intensified over time. The first year it was centered around shock, disbelief, fatigue and pity. In the second and third years, my grief matured into a greater realization of what the boys and I had really lost when my husband died. In the beginning, you don't have the perspective of time to really acknowledge this. And the world believing that popular myth that we should be over our grief in a year, isn't around to help support us when we really need it. Maybe for some of us, the second and third years out are when the real grief work starts. Not to say that the first days, weeks and months of grieving are not important. Looking back for me at least, the grief I experienced and had to work through was far more difficult after the first year. Then there are the losses that come with the passage of time. Maybe financial hardship, loss of a home, having to relocate...

To be fair, part of the equation factoring into all of this is that by nature I have always been a non-complaining, people pleasing "Yes Man." But as I continue to navigate the widowhood road I am gaining strength to be able to state my needs and wants more securely. I have the power to say, "No, Saturday night is not a good time to meet. We're going to have to set another time." I'm no longer reluctant to refuse to participate in car-pool duty. There are other parents out there with greater flexibility and ease to pick up those duties for the parents like myself holding the short end of the stick. And I am more confident in stating what for me is my reality. That even if a number of years have passed since my husband died, it doesn't mean that I have gotten over it. Nor does it mean that I can face new losses like a divorce and losing my home with greater ability and ease. Through this blog and in my interactions with the people in my life, I am trying to paint a picture of what it is like to live with grief and loss. Maybe it is not a pretty picture and maybe people feel uncomfortable knowing that a cloud of loss surrounds me. But I will stand tall and tell it like it is. No longer will I just nod my head and say, "I'm fine." If someone asks or even cares, I will speak my truth: "I am facing and working through a number of major losses that came at me in a short period of time that resulted in me feeling great pain, and I am doing the best I can to go on living a happy, meaningful and productive life while I regroup, catch my breath and figure out where to go from here."

If the world isn't willing to cut me some slack for circumstances largely beyond my control, then I suppose it is up to me to stand up for myself and my needs. I only wish it had not taken me six long years of wearing myself ragged to reach this point!

I am grateful for:

1. The time to write this post.
2. The time to do the dishes in an overflowing sink.
3. Alarm clocks.
4. Bit and pieces of free time granted during the day here and there.
5. The sacred time before bed for reading a few pages.

Krispy Kreme Lesson

One of the first lessons I received regarding my new life as a widow, came even before I was widowed, a week before my husband's death. By that time he had been in a coma for weeks and was in the acute ICU section of the hospital. I was crying for most of those days. Thankfully, I could stop while I was driving the hour to the hospital but once there, I could not stop the tears - they flowed endlessly. I was bringing the boys to the hospital after school and I'd already been there during the day. Because no food was allowed in the ICU, I'd stop for kiddie meals at some fast food place along the way and the boys would eat dinner in the van. Actually, the eating in the van thing had been going on for a number of weeks, not just at the end. I was focused on having the boys spend as much time as they could with their Dad. Although I had not been officially told, I intuitively knew that death was near.

Anyway, that is a little background as to what was going on in our life at that point. I'd just taken a leave of absence from my 20-hour-a-week job which had been granted very reluctantly. I was doing my best to take care of the boys and manage the impending death of my spouse. The boys would often complete their homework in the van and were still participating in soccer and baseball. We were even involved in completing a creative arts project sponsored by our PTA. So this was not really an academic requirement. The kids were supposed to create some type of artwork be it a poem, drawing, painting, musical composition, etc. Both boys were doing a photographic collage. The artwork was due on a Wednesday. My husband died three days later on Saturday. The boys handed in their entries on the Wednesday due date.

But my oldest son's teacher rewarded those students who handed in their entries early, on Monday, by giving them a Krispy Kreme Donut. We had been at the hospital the whole weekend. I'd planned all along to hand in the entries on the day due. And now looking back I can't even believe that I just didn't have the sense to say the hell with the whole, silly art competition in the first place. Trust me - we had enough on our plates. I should mention that the school was aware of our situation and I had spoken personally to the teachers, staff and principal.

Going back to this story, because my son hadn't turned in his art work early, he did not get a donut. Nor did a handful of other classmates who all happened to be minority kids and/or the ones living in the apartments. I was pretty outraged at the time. My son did feel hurt - he was left out - and he was publicly excluded. The sad part of this whole story is that those excluded kids all handed in their projects by the due date. They just didn't get them completed early.

I think this situation just demonstrated to me that the world really doesn't give a darn about what is going on in your life. We still need to play by the rules put in place. And usually those rules don't allow for any type of adjustment, even if one is struggling or dealing with major life calamities. For a while I contemplated talking to the teacher and principal about this but after my husband died, the importance of the matter took a back seat. I guess it is still important though because I am reflecting on it now, years later. And I wish I had said something when the time would have been right. At least now I am verbal and do speak up when a situation like this rears its ugly head.

So this was probably the first widowhood lesson I received. That we have to try and fit into a world that just keeps buzzing by. Picture a train pulling into a station without really stopping. We have to jump on. No one is slowing down for us or making any concessions about our new lives. This teacher didn't even have the compassion, sense or decency to think about why this little group of 10-year-olds hadn't been able to hand in their art projects early. One's father was dying.

We're already living on borrowed time and energy. We're doing the job that used to be handled by two. We're trying to figure out the rules, find our way and stumble onward. Instead of care and sympathy, I have largely encountered criticism for grieving too long, making mistakes or the wrong decisions and not being able to keep up the pace. So not only do we not get any breaks but we don't get recognition or encouragement for trying our best to fit into a new and alien world.

I believe I ended up buying a box, maybe two of Krispy Kreme Donuts for my sons but I don't really remember. It seems like something I would have done so I'll go with that image. But I'm sure that the extra treat didn't lessen the sting of being publicly excluded. All for reasons beyond my son's control.

Today I am grateful:

1. For wind chimes.
2. For candles.
3. For paper.
4. For books.
5. For pens.