The day has ended with me needing a huge, comforting hug. Wanting someone to hold me and murmur soothing words of encouragement, telling me it is all going to be okay. A warm, nurturing body to embrace me and a kind hand to stroke my back and hair, to let me cry a bit of it out on their shoulder.
Where does someone like me get that physical support? I am convinced that as human beings, we all need that element of connection - emotional as well as physical. Maybe even the physical more than the emotional at times. I do my best to be there for the boys. When the day seems especially rough, I make a point of touching them or giving them a hug as well as providing verbal assurances. But I tell you, this widowed mom and only parent sure needs to have someone to lean on too. We all do.
What happens when we lack this basic requirement? I guess we end up surviving but life is all round more tolerable when it includes the element of human touch and compassion. I am beginning to believe that any problem or condition is tolerable as long as one can face it with some support from others. Lacking that, for me at least, has become my personal hell. Having to face all these issues and problems on my own is I fear, slowly killing me. A person can only keep it together so long, can only keep the home fires afloat before they too need to be carried part of the distance. A load can be borne on one's own shoulders for only so long.
I'm thinking of all the people out there besides myself who are without an emotional and physical connection in their lives. There are the elderly that live alone, and other widows and widowers. Children and wives in abusive households. People existing in love-strained marriages. I wish there were a hug fairy that made rounds to the hug-starved.
Tonight was the fourth Friday in a row that I attended a football game sitting alone in the stands surrounded by hundreds of people. Tonight as I contemplated my need for some physical contact, I was awe struck by how strange it was to be in the midst of so many people and to feel so utterly alone, invisible and lost. I saw various acquaintances in the stands, both men and women. What would have happened it I'd asked one of them to give me a hug after the game? Would that be considered too weird or does a person simply do what they have to do to stay sane? Or I suppose I could have just greeted someone I knew with a hug of my own and see if they'd respond with one back (not the males though, as all their wives were present and might get the wrong idea about my intentions).
We need physical contact and emotional understanding. How blessed it is when we can receive both from loved ones in our lives.
Showing posts with label isolation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label isolation. Show all posts
Friday, September 10, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
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?"
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?"
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Strength in Numbers
I ended up taking the boys and I out to eat at Steak and Shake for a Mother's Day meal out. I had some coupons and the boys got a burger, fries, salad and shake for $5.99 a meal. How can you beat that? After going, I realized how necessary it sometimes is for us to get out and do something even if it stretches the budget. The boys and I hadn't been out to eat in months and doing so was such a treat. It was so nice to sit at the booth and talk to the boys. Really have some conversations instead of quick and hurried snatches of comments and words during school pick-up and drop-offs.
My youngest brought up the information that one of his friends has parents getting divorced. He said that the mom is looking at our apartment complex as a potential place to move since they will be selling the house. Just knowing and hearing this was like receiving a gift! My son went on to say that his friend and her siblings were cleaning out the home of their father's possessions as their Mother's Day gift to their mom. Now I found that funny but also sad.
Anyway, the point to my bringing all of this up since it happened some weeks back is to to relate how just knowing another mom is in my shoes does a great deal to make me feel less isolated and alone in all of this. As I have mentioned in other posts, there aren't many families headed by single parents in this community, which happens to be one of the top 100 wealthiest towns and counties in the country. So it is a double-edged sword living here because of the high incomes of the intact families.
I felt very sorry for this woman that I know from my old PTA days and her children. It is not entirely the same set of circumstances since it is a divorce. But this family did live in the same neighborhood as we did and it will be an adjustment for all of them to move from a home into an apartment. Sometimes just knowing I am not the only one serves to give me a new lease on life. It often seems as though I am the only one since the widowhood gig is so isolating and the community I live in increase that sense of isolation. Hearing of another mom facing similar issues takes some of the sting out of the stigma and shame I carry around with me everyday. There can be strength in numbers, even very small ones.
My youngest brought up the information that one of his friends has parents getting divorced. He said that the mom is looking at our apartment complex as a potential place to move since they will be selling the house. Just knowing and hearing this was like receiving a gift! My son went on to say that his friend and her siblings were cleaning out the home of their father's possessions as their Mother's Day gift to their mom. Now I found that funny but also sad.
Anyway, the point to my bringing all of this up since it happened some weeks back is to to relate how just knowing another mom is in my shoes does a great deal to make me feel less isolated and alone in all of this. As I have mentioned in other posts, there aren't many families headed by single parents in this community, which happens to be one of the top 100 wealthiest towns and counties in the country. So it is a double-edged sword living here because of the high incomes of the intact families.
I felt very sorry for this woman that I know from my old PTA days and her children. It is not entirely the same set of circumstances since it is a divorce. But this family did live in the same neighborhood as we did and it will be an adjustment for all of them to move from a home into an apartment. Sometimes just knowing I am not the only one serves to give me a new lease on life. It often seems as though I am the only one since the widowhood gig is so isolating and the community I live in increase that sense of isolation. Hearing of another mom facing similar issues takes some of the sting out of the stigma and shame I carry around with me everyday. There can be strength in numbers, even very small ones.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
A Spilled Cup of Coffee
I accidentally spilled a cup of hot coffee on my hand at work earlier this week. It wasn't super hot so there was no burning but the initial shock startled me and I had tears in my eyes. The tears were partly for the first sting of pain but what followed were feelings of self-pity. The thought crossed my mind that here I was at a nursing home where my job for eight hours is to care for people in need - providing them a bit of comfort when I can, as well as helping them with physical tasks they are helpless to do on their own.
I then thought about the three years I spent as a caregiver to my husband during his illness and the care I provided for my dearly beloved Mom. Then the only parenting all these years...
This widowhood gig sure has demanded a lot of care giving to others with not much back. To a great extent I am a natural caregiver which is why I'm working as a nursing assistant in the first place. But still. The incident with the spilled coffee made me realize how lacking the widowed can be from small daily doses of comfort and support that are generally taken for granted. I just wanted to be able to come home and hold out my hand and have it tenderly held and looked at by someone clucking in sympathy. Just a little TLC to refill the care giving bank that's already over-drafted.
It just keeps adding up over time. The emotional and physical isolation of living without a partner, the loneliness and the lack of daily support. It doesn't go away - it's a constant, dull ache. Every time I come home to an empty residence (still have trouble saying apartment). Every time I fall and skin my knee or am having a tough day and long for a hug. Life isn't meant to be lived this way - we all need comfort, love and support. The sad reality is that there are those of us out here living on our own without those necessary hugs and pats (verbal and physical) on the back. There is no solution. And that makes it even tougher. An empty home is an empty home. There is no one's shoulder to sniffle into to garner some sympathy. What else can I say?
Well, I guess there is something I will say. From my perspective of being six and a half years out, the absolutely worst part of widowhood is the loneliness and being on my own. Handling and climbing through the hell of my husband's death was a piece of cake compared to the ongoing struggle of having to continue to trudge through life on my lonesome.
I then thought about the three years I spent as a caregiver to my husband during his illness and the care I provided for my dearly beloved Mom. Then the only parenting all these years...
This widowhood gig sure has demanded a lot of care giving to others with not much back. To a great extent I am a natural caregiver which is why I'm working as a nursing assistant in the first place. But still. The incident with the spilled coffee made me realize how lacking the widowed can be from small daily doses of comfort and support that are generally taken for granted. I just wanted to be able to come home and hold out my hand and have it tenderly held and looked at by someone clucking in sympathy. Just a little TLC to refill the care giving bank that's already over-drafted.
It just keeps adding up over time. The emotional and physical isolation of living without a partner, the loneliness and the lack of daily support. It doesn't go away - it's a constant, dull ache. Every time I come home to an empty residence (still have trouble saying apartment). Every time I fall and skin my knee or am having a tough day and long for a hug. Life isn't meant to be lived this way - we all need comfort, love and support. The sad reality is that there are those of us out here living on our own without those necessary hugs and pats (verbal and physical) on the back. There is no solution. And that makes it even tougher. An empty home is an empty home. There is no one's shoulder to sniffle into to garner some sympathy. What else can I say?
Well, I guess there is something I will say. From my perspective of being six and a half years out, the absolutely worst part of widowhood is the loneliness and being on my own. Handling and climbing through the hell of my husband's death was a piece of cake compared to the ongoing struggle of having to continue to trudge through life on my lonesome.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Unbound Ties
I used to have friends. There were my friends from work, grad school, my work with the PTA and a volunteer at the boys' school, the school where my husband taught, fellow parents on the teams my husband and I coached and from the other groups my husband and I participated in - he sang semi-professionally and I was a CASA (court appointed special advocate for abused and neglected kids). So I'd often go out to meetings, dinners or lunches with these various groups of people. And I very much enjoyed seeing my husband perform. There was plenty of healthy interaction among adults including the exchange of knowledge and ideas. I felt respected and valued in the world and that I was a contributor for the overall good of man.
After my husband's death it didn't take very long for these ties to sever. Immediately the connections I had with my husband's school and performing groups ended. Then as it became more and more time consuming to volunteer, I stopped doing so and lost those connections as well. My shortened free time was spent between parenting on my own, working part time and doing what I could for my parents (mainly my mom prior to her death).
I'm relating all this now in a way to prove to myself that I used to be a stimulating member of society - I had it once. But that circumstances ended up making it very difficult to maintain social interactions. And now I feel as though I really have so little in common with those I used to socialize with.
Sitting on the bleachers during games I overhear snippets of conversations. One that grabbed my attention was that of the volleyball team mom talking about her various trips/vacations the past few months. There was skiing in Colorado, Wisconsin and Michigan and then some place else too. Now I have only been to Michigan for a week's vacation in the past seven years. Hearing this woman talk made me feel sad as well as jealous.
Then there was the mom talking about the major stress she was feeling because of the remodeling going on with her home. "Let me tell you about stress," I wanted to say but I know it is all relative and relates to the experiences you are facing. Still...
After all this time I no longer look, see or perceive the world in the ways I did before widowhood. I am certainly not the same person by a long shot. A woman I had lunch with (chicken salad on croissants) at her home only a few years ago looked right through me when we passed one another at a recent band concert. Another "former" PTA and sports friend recently asked me where I had moved and since then hasn't spoken a word to me.
It is weird to participate in a world you used to be a full part of but now are there only on the fringes - almost like an observer looking in. I no longer feel that comfortable speaking up in conversations - what could I say to the woman whose family has been fortunate enough to get away four times since January? I no longer own a home so the woman stressed out with the workmen doing the remodeling wasn't much of a conversational draw for me. What could I contribute?
My oldest son was in a remedial math class with about 18 kids. He told me that all of his classmates were lower income kids. When I attended the school's open house I was the only parent visiting that classroom! When I first moved into this apartment complex I looked in the high school phone directory to see who lived here. With only one exception, all the families attending my sons' school are headed by single moms, myself included. I bring this up because I believe it is so hard to be an only or a single parent. There just isn't time to volunteer or sadly, to attend a school open house. And then those friendships become too challenging to maintain and you stop getting included anyway.
Friendships by the wayside - another casualty of widowhood.
After my husband's death it didn't take very long for these ties to sever. Immediately the connections I had with my husband's school and performing groups ended. Then as it became more and more time consuming to volunteer, I stopped doing so and lost those connections as well. My shortened free time was spent between parenting on my own, working part time and doing what I could for my parents (mainly my mom prior to her death).
I'm relating all this now in a way to prove to myself that I used to be a stimulating member of society - I had it once. But that circumstances ended up making it very difficult to maintain social interactions. And now I feel as though I really have so little in common with those I used to socialize with.
Sitting on the bleachers during games I overhear snippets of conversations. One that grabbed my attention was that of the volleyball team mom talking about her various trips/vacations the past few months. There was skiing in Colorado, Wisconsin and Michigan and then some place else too. Now I have only been to Michigan for a week's vacation in the past seven years. Hearing this woman talk made me feel sad as well as jealous.
Then there was the mom talking about the major stress she was feeling because of the remodeling going on with her home. "Let me tell you about stress," I wanted to say but I know it is all relative and relates to the experiences you are facing. Still...
After all this time I no longer look, see or perceive the world in the ways I did before widowhood. I am certainly not the same person by a long shot. A woman I had lunch with (chicken salad on croissants) at her home only a few years ago looked right through me when we passed one another at a recent band concert. Another "former" PTA and sports friend recently asked me where I had moved and since then hasn't spoken a word to me.
It is weird to participate in a world you used to be a full part of but now are there only on the fringes - almost like an observer looking in. I no longer feel that comfortable speaking up in conversations - what could I say to the woman whose family has been fortunate enough to get away four times since January? I no longer own a home so the woman stressed out with the workmen doing the remodeling wasn't much of a conversational draw for me. What could I contribute?
My oldest son was in a remedial math class with about 18 kids. He told me that all of his classmates were lower income kids. When I attended the school's open house I was the only parent visiting that classroom! When I first moved into this apartment complex I looked in the high school phone directory to see who lived here. With only one exception, all the families attending my sons' school are headed by single moms, myself included. I bring this up because I believe it is so hard to be an only or a single parent. There just isn't time to volunteer or sadly, to attend a school open house. And then those friendships become too challenging to maintain and you stop getting included anyway.
Friendships by the wayside - another casualty of widowhood.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Widows Gone Crazy
My youngest son's best friend's dad died of cancer a year before my husband. The friend's situation is a little different. He had an older brother and sister high school age - now they are out of college. And his family owned a restaurant in Chicago. Just different family dynamics and circumstances.
My oldest son's girlfriend lost her mom a year ago, also to cancer. Her dad has started to date and she is upset that the new girlfriend who used to be their babysitter is only 35. In a perfect world wouldn't it have been nice and easier if her dad and I had felt some attraction and fallen in love!
Somehow, I don't think these friendships and connections with my sons are arbitrary or coincidental.
This recent spring break my youngest spent a lot of time with his friend and mentioned concerns about his friend's mom. She apparently lost her cool and yelled at a group of the kids when they stopped in the house, demanding that they get out. I replied that I could understand a mom getting frustrated with a bunch of teen boys barging into the house. My son's reply was that I never would have made a scene and yelled like this woman did even if I had been upset.
He also related that his friend thinks his mom has "gone crazy." She no longer works in the restaurant and has leased it out to another family running it. But she is apparently working doing some kind of rehab on houses. My son further revealed that his friend is very worried about his mother - her actions are erratic and she has thrown the friend out of the house on a number of occasions - overnight! I'm not sure how to reply to that because that is endangering a poor 15 year old kid who had to go to a friend's house to spend the night. But I also don't know all the details except that this kid is very nice and mild mannered - not a trouble maker at all.
My son further observed that his friend's mom does appear crazy and out of control when he is over at his friend's house. He added that she looks haggard and much older than her age. I think I said something like, "Well, widowhood will do that to you" and he came back with the fact that I don't look as bad as she.
Poor woman. Over the years I've had fleeting thoughts of wanting to get in touch with her but of course time has always been at such a premium. I didn't really know her - she wasn't in my circle of super-involved PTA moms that I hung with. But as it turns out, all those "friends" fell by the wayside in my life as I became less and less able to volunteer and be active outside my own home.
I don't know all the details of this woman's life in the past seven years. From what my son has said every once in awhile, I knew she had a boyfriend living in her home for a couple years, although they are no longer together. I've heard talk of her wanting to sell the home because the oldest were in college. Just bits and pieces of another widowed mom's life while I was desperately trying to keep my own together.
But I do get the craziness - I do get that this curse of widowhood can lead to it. I am beginning to think that I may be going crazy too! There is only so much stress, pain, disappointment and hardship that some people can take. Maybe she has reached her limit. Maybe I am close to reaching mine.
Hearing about this woman had a profound impact on me - it was like a shot of reality hitting me. Sobering and scary. Real and honest. I am getting sick of making such an effort to be hopeful and optimistic. For some of us, widowhood just plain and simply sucks and I don't want to sugarcoat this anymore. My life has certainly remained pretty difficult and it is a draining challenge to continue to face the days, let alone the future.
I have come to believe that widowhood can make you crazy.
I dropped my oldest off at school and went by a house in our old neighborhood where a widowed woman lived before she moved a couple years ago. She was a fanatical gardener and when I took walks I used to stop to chat with her as I went by. She revealed that widowhood had made her terribly lonely and she gardened to fill the gap. She laughed as she showed me the little pond she'd added, admitting that she might be getting a bit "crazy" with her obsession. Now, as I look back to what I know about her I feel sad and somewhat frightened about my future too.
All those negative portrayals that exist about widows - you know, the women who own too many cats or the ones always threatening the kids who run across their grass. It makes sense to me - how the loneliness and heartache can make someone bitter and cross. I have even found that my social skills have gone down because I have lost opportunities to converse on a daily basis with an adult. No wonder an older widow might become scared and reclusive.
For whatever reasons I think it is easier for men to pick themselves back up, dust themselves off and start dating women 15-20 years younger as seen by my son's girlfriend's own father ! I have read that men can more readily distract themselves from hardship and difficulties. Be that as it may. I saw a woman about age 60 go into Pizza Hut with a book in her hand when I was there picking up a $10.00 pizza for the boys. I had to give her credit for dining in, at a Pizza Hut no less. If I were on my own I would have taken it home and eaten in front of the t.v. This also bothered me a little. I told my close girlfriend about it and joked that if we are still single in 10 years we'll move into a luxury townhouse or condo together.
But I don't want to be alone. Yet at the same time, right now I don't possess the energy or optimism to date or get out there. There has been too much pain and it is still there, too close to my heart and spirit.
I think about the woman gardening. If I had been in her shoes with two grown-up sons, which she had, what would I have done? Probably done some volunteering in the community in lieu of the solitary gardening. I suppose I would have eventually made efforts to meet a gentleman - maybe taken some cruises or trips. But I shouldn't be talking because right now I can't even muster the energy to try and create more social options in my life be they with men or women! This widowhood has the strength to rob us of opportunities and desires - to leave us heartbroken and broken in spirit. And the supreme power to make us crazy, hopefully only temporarily.
My oldest son's girlfriend lost her mom a year ago, also to cancer. Her dad has started to date and she is upset that the new girlfriend who used to be their babysitter is only 35. In a perfect world wouldn't it have been nice and easier if her dad and I had felt some attraction and fallen in love!
Somehow, I don't think these friendships and connections with my sons are arbitrary or coincidental.
This recent spring break my youngest spent a lot of time with his friend and mentioned concerns about his friend's mom. She apparently lost her cool and yelled at a group of the kids when they stopped in the house, demanding that they get out. I replied that I could understand a mom getting frustrated with a bunch of teen boys barging into the house. My son's reply was that I never would have made a scene and yelled like this woman did even if I had been upset.
He also related that his friend thinks his mom has "gone crazy." She no longer works in the restaurant and has leased it out to another family running it. But she is apparently working doing some kind of rehab on houses. My son further revealed that his friend is very worried about his mother - her actions are erratic and she has thrown the friend out of the house on a number of occasions - overnight! I'm not sure how to reply to that because that is endangering a poor 15 year old kid who had to go to a friend's house to spend the night. But I also don't know all the details except that this kid is very nice and mild mannered - not a trouble maker at all.
My son further observed that his friend's mom does appear crazy and out of control when he is over at his friend's house. He added that she looks haggard and much older than her age. I think I said something like, "Well, widowhood will do that to you" and he came back with the fact that I don't look as bad as she.
Poor woman. Over the years I've had fleeting thoughts of wanting to get in touch with her but of course time has always been at such a premium. I didn't really know her - she wasn't in my circle of super-involved PTA moms that I hung with. But as it turns out, all those "friends" fell by the wayside in my life as I became less and less able to volunteer and be active outside my own home.
I don't know all the details of this woman's life in the past seven years. From what my son has said every once in awhile, I knew she had a boyfriend living in her home for a couple years, although they are no longer together. I've heard talk of her wanting to sell the home because the oldest were in college. Just bits and pieces of another widowed mom's life while I was desperately trying to keep my own together.
But I do get the craziness - I do get that this curse of widowhood can lead to it. I am beginning to think that I may be going crazy too! There is only so much stress, pain, disappointment and hardship that some people can take. Maybe she has reached her limit. Maybe I am close to reaching mine.
Hearing about this woman had a profound impact on me - it was like a shot of reality hitting me. Sobering and scary. Real and honest. I am getting sick of making such an effort to be hopeful and optimistic. For some of us, widowhood just plain and simply sucks and I don't want to sugarcoat this anymore. My life has certainly remained pretty difficult and it is a draining challenge to continue to face the days, let alone the future.
I have come to believe that widowhood can make you crazy.
I dropped my oldest off at school and went by a house in our old neighborhood where a widowed woman lived before she moved a couple years ago. She was a fanatical gardener and when I took walks I used to stop to chat with her as I went by. She revealed that widowhood had made her terribly lonely and she gardened to fill the gap. She laughed as she showed me the little pond she'd added, admitting that she might be getting a bit "crazy" with her obsession. Now, as I look back to what I know about her I feel sad and somewhat frightened about my future too.
All those negative portrayals that exist about widows - you know, the women who own too many cats or the ones always threatening the kids who run across their grass. It makes sense to me - how the loneliness and heartache can make someone bitter and cross. I have even found that my social skills have gone down because I have lost opportunities to converse on a daily basis with an adult. No wonder an older widow might become scared and reclusive.
For whatever reasons I think it is easier for men to pick themselves back up, dust themselves off and start dating women 15-20 years younger as seen by my son's girlfriend's own father ! I have read that men can more readily distract themselves from hardship and difficulties. Be that as it may. I saw a woman about age 60 go into Pizza Hut with a book in her hand when I was there picking up a $10.00 pizza for the boys. I had to give her credit for dining in, at a Pizza Hut no less. If I were on my own I would have taken it home and eaten in front of the t.v. This also bothered me a little. I told my close girlfriend about it and joked that if we are still single in 10 years we'll move into a luxury townhouse or condo together.
But I don't want to be alone. Yet at the same time, right now I don't possess the energy or optimism to date or get out there. There has been too much pain and it is still there, too close to my heart and spirit.
I think about the woman gardening. If I had been in her shoes with two grown-up sons, which she had, what would I have done? Probably done some volunteering in the community in lieu of the solitary gardening. I suppose I would have eventually made efforts to meet a gentleman - maybe taken some cruises or trips. But I shouldn't be talking because right now I can't even muster the energy to try and create more social options in my life be they with men or women! This widowhood has the strength to rob us of opportunities and desires - to leave us heartbroken and broken in spirit. And the supreme power to make us crazy, hopefully only temporarily.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Emotional Isolation
As I start back into the work force, I have been thinking about how my not having worked outside the home in recent years increased my physical isolation. This got me to thinking about the emotional element of isolation as well. I came across the blog of a mom also widowed at the age of 44. She quoted a statistic that only 3% of married people will lose a spouse to death at this age. That small a percentage really got to me!
I've tried obtaining statistics on how many widows/widowers are out there, particularly for the age group of 40-50. I came across the figure of 16% somewhere but that seems pretty high. I'll keep at it for my own satisfaction. I'm trying to prove, I guess, that with all of our medical advances, today there are not that many people dying in mid-life. At age 65, the numbers dramatically increase.
Point being, when you're widowed at this age, there aren't that many other people out there walking in your shoes. And that results in a great sense of emotional isolation. In my personal experience, it has been very frustrating to try and explain the extreme impact of my husband's death to others. Unless these people had experienced death intimately (didn't have to be a spouse) it just always felt as though I was talking to brick wall. People would nod sympathetically, but I could tell they didn't really fully comprehend the depth of my pain. They seemed perplexed. Oftentimes, I'd hear criticism about what I was doing wrong and that always increased my grief. I felt criticized for grieving or that people wanted to take my grief away from me. "Let me at least have my grief," I remember thinking. "Don't rob me of that right too when I've already lost everything most dear to me."
Being unable to convey how you are truly feeling brings forth such desolation at another level. I questioned my sanity. Was there something wrong with me? Why were so many people disapproving of my sorrow? At this point you have two options. 1. Stop expressing your innermost feelings to others because of the discomfort it brings. or 2. Keep doing it and irritating those in your life. Either way ends up with negative consequences.
It is imperative to get out there and connect with others walking this path. Surprisingly, I found very few available grief groups considering I live in such a large area. Some of the groups had disbanded, others focused mainly on the divorced. I did attend such a group where there was one other widow. We had a hard time up against the bitter, divorced moms. We didn't fit in and the overriding belief was that we had it better because our husband's were out of the picture. These moms were dealing with deadbeat guys and spent the two hours bashing them. The poor other widow and I just sat there shaking our heads and crying. We wished to have a guy to be bashing! Even a deadbeat one!
If I had to do it over again, I would have made a more vigilant effort to get involved in a grief group earlier in my widowhood. Walking this road on my own proved to be too daunting for me. I needed the connection and support such a group would bring. What eventually saved me was finding a counselor specializing in grief and life transitions. I had someone I could share with openly and honestly. She validated my experiences and emotions. This is the key - validation. To know that what your are going through and feeling is normal. And that is not possible when you don't have contact with others in the same situation.
Blogging for me has been a lifesaver. As a super busy mom of teen boys with precious little free time, this mode of contact with the outside world has greatly reduced my emotional isolation. To be able to connect with someone else out there who totally understands where I am coming from. To know about someone else's experience and to totally relate because I've been there too (on the exact same page). It would be nice to have someone to go out with for coffee, dinner or a show - a fellow widow or widower. A physical connection ultimately brings more to a relationship. But I'm grateful for the connections I do have in this mode. It is my lifeline as I continue to swim to shore.
Today I am grateful for:
1. The entire blogging experience.
2. That my oldest passed his Chemistry final with a C+ - this was a class we were concerned he would fail! So he passed and will not have to go to summer school!
3. The temperature warm up.
4. Hot, soothing showers.
5. Being forced to slow down in winter. It is a time to reflect and recharge.
I've tried obtaining statistics on how many widows/widowers are out there, particularly for the age group of 40-50. I came across the figure of 16% somewhere but that seems pretty high. I'll keep at it for my own satisfaction. I'm trying to prove, I guess, that with all of our medical advances, today there are not that many people dying in mid-life. At age 65, the numbers dramatically increase.
Point being, when you're widowed at this age, there aren't that many other people out there walking in your shoes. And that results in a great sense of emotional isolation. In my personal experience, it has been very frustrating to try and explain the extreme impact of my husband's death to others. Unless these people had experienced death intimately (didn't have to be a spouse) it just always felt as though I was talking to brick wall. People would nod sympathetically, but I could tell they didn't really fully comprehend the depth of my pain. They seemed perplexed. Oftentimes, I'd hear criticism about what I was doing wrong and that always increased my grief. I felt criticized for grieving or that people wanted to take my grief away from me. "Let me at least have my grief," I remember thinking. "Don't rob me of that right too when I've already lost everything most dear to me."
Being unable to convey how you are truly feeling brings forth such desolation at another level. I questioned my sanity. Was there something wrong with me? Why were so many people disapproving of my sorrow? At this point you have two options. 1. Stop expressing your innermost feelings to others because of the discomfort it brings. or 2. Keep doing it and irritating those in your life. Either way ends up with negative consequences.
It is imperative to get out there and connect with others walking this path. Surprisingly, I found very few available grief groups considering I live in such a large area. Some of the groups had disbanded, others focused mainly on the divorced. I did attend such a group where there was one other widow. We had a hard time up against the bitter, divorced moms. We didn't fit in and the overriding belief was that we had it better because our husband's were out of the picture. These moms were dealing with deadbeat guys and spent the two hours bashing them. The poor other widow and I just sat there shaking our heads and crying. We wished to have a guy to be bashing! Even a deadbeat one!
If I had to do it over again, I would have made a more vigilant effort to get involved in a grief group earlier in my widowhood. Walking this road on my own proved to be too daunting for me. I needed the connection and support such a group would bring. What eventually saved me was finding a counselor specializing in grief and life transitions. I had someone I could share with openly and honestly. She validated my experiences and emotions. This is the key - validation. To know that what your are going through and feeling is normal. And that is not possible when you don't have contact with others in the same situation.
Blogging for me has been a lifesaver. As a super busy mom of teen boys with precious little free time, this mode of contact with the outside world has greatly reduced my emotional isolation. To be able to connect with someone else out there who totally understands where I am coming from. To know about someone else's experience and to totally relate because I've been there too (on the exact same page). It would be nice to have someone to go out with for coffee, dinner or a show - a fellow widow or widower. A physical connection ultimately brings more to a relationship. But I'm grateful for the connections I do have in this mode. It is my lifeline as I continue to swim to shore.
Today I am grateful for:
1. The entire blogging experience.
2. That my oldest passed his Chemistry final with a C+ - this was a class we were concerned he would fail! So he passed and will not have to go to summer school!
3. The temperature warm up.
4. Hot, soothing showers.
5. Being forced to slow down in winter. It is a time to reflect and recharge.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Turning the Page
I had to pick up my last paycheck stubs from the big, box store and went in to get them on Monday. That experience inspires this post. I called the office before I left so they would expect me. When I arrived, I greeted the female office manager who was talking with one of the male store managers. Both of these people know me and worked with me for 8 months. There were never personality problems or run ins with either.
I was given my paperwork by the office manager who did not even stop talking with the other manager. Neither one looked at, acknowledged me or said anything. I made a point of saying goodbye to both and left. It was an odd, unsettling experience but typical of this place. My feeling unacknowledged and invisible was frequent during my employment there. There were times when the top store manager would walk by and I would say hello and he also would not say anything to me. He'd just walk by. So I'm not sure if the people this guy hires are similar in disposition to him or they model the behavior after being hired to fit in.
In any case, this all got me to thinking about isolation and grief. Despite the rather bizarre experience of working at this store, I am grateful that doing so provided opportunities for me to socialize and get out and about in the world. I formed some acquaintances with co-workers and enjoyed interacting with the customers. For various reasons I didn't work much after my husband's death. And looking back am seeing that this may have been a hindrance. If I'd been working, I'd hopefully been able to tap into another social support network and my sense of confidence would probably be higher.
I am finding that grief feeds on itself. And in being isolated it can be very easy to fall into the trap of just staying in that cave longer than one should. Without a purpose or reason to get up, it can be so easy to spend endless days stuck on that page where the grief remains blinding and excruciating. There is also the element of resisting change and finding comfort in what you know. You stay on the same page because at least you know what that feels like. It can be very hard to turn the page when you don't know what is coming or how you'll cope or handle it all.
Being a working parent is tough for everyone and especially only parents. I'm not particularly looking forward to joining the daily grind again. But I am trying to look at it from a more positive view. That I will certainly be deriving many benefits, the first of which will be to have greater interaction with others and the world. I will no longer be able to hunker down in my cave for as long as I want. I will be emerging to face the sun and air more days than I have in the past years.
Today I am grateful:
1. For having shelter from the elements and cold.
2. That we have food.
3. That we have a computer and internet access.
4. That we have cell phones.
5. That we have warm clothes, although our boots seem to have been misplaced in the move. We'll try to make due.
I was given my paperwork by the office manager who did not even stop talking with the other manager. Neither one looked at, acknowledged me or said anything. I made a point of saying goodbye to both and left. It was an odd, unsettling experience but typical of this place. My feeling unacknowledged and invisible was frequent during my employment there. There were times when the top store manager would walk by and I would say hello and he also would not say anything to me. He'd just walk by. So I'm not sure if the people this guy hires are similar in disposition to him or they model the behavior after being hired to fit in.
In any case, this all got me to thinking about isolation and grief. Despite the rather bizarre experience of working at this store, I am grateful that doing so provided opportunities for me to socialize and get out and about in the world. I formed some acquaintances with co-workers and enjoyed interacting with the customers. For various reasons I didn't work much after my husband's death. And looking back am seeing that this may have been a hindrance. If I'd been working, I'd hopefully been able to tap into another social support network and my sense of confidence would probably be higher.
I am finding that grief feeds on itself. And in being isolated it can be very easy to fall into the trap of just staying in that cave longer than one should. Without a purpose or reason to get up, it can be so easy to spend endless days stuck on that page where the grief remains blinding and excruciating. There is also the element of resisting change and finding comfort in what you know. You stay on the same page because at least you know what that feels like. It can be very hard to turn the page when you don't know what is coming or how you'll cope or handle it all.
Being a working parent is tough for everyone and especially only parents. I'm not particularly looking forward to joining the daily grind again. But I am trying to look at it from a more positive view. That I will certainly be deriving many benefits, the first of which will be to have greater interaction with others and the world. I will no longer be able to hunker down in my cave for as long as I want. I will be emerging to face the sun and air more days than I have in the past years.
Today I am grateful:
1. For having shelter from the elements and cold.
2. That we have food.
3. That we have a computer and internet access.
4. That we have cell phones.
5. That we have warm clothes, although our boots seem to have been misplaced in the move. We'll try to make due.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Corn Pudding
In my old life before widowhood, I was one of those over-involved PTA moms. I worked part-time and spent at least 10 hours at the grade school my boys attended weekly. I worked in the library one afternoon, assisted in the classroom another, tutored reading, collated, stapled and distributed the weekly newsletter, headed the monthly food drive as well as other committees (Yearbook, Health & Safety, Fun Fair, etc.). At the holidays I coordinated the room parties and made goodie bags for all the kids. I baked my share of treats for various events (cake walk), gave the teachers generous presents and was a very visible face always willing to give a helping hand.
Flash forward to the present. My Certified Nursing Assistant Program ends this week and a party with the 32 students was planned. We were all supposed to bring a dish for a pot luck lunch. My heart wasn't in making anything. Things are just too crazy right now. I thought about picking up a nice platter of holiday cookies or brownies. But in the end tried to come up with a dish that would be very simple and quick to make. I decided on corn pudding because I associate corn with Thanksgiving and I love the dish. My huge cookbook collection never got unpacked so I went online to see what I could come up with. I found the Jiffy Corn Bread recipe for Corn Casserole and went with it because it doesn't get much simpler than that.
Jiffy Corn Casserole
1 can whole kernel corn undrained
1 can creamed style corn
1 stick butter, melted
2 eggs, beaten
1 tsp. sugar
8 oz. sour cream
Small box of Jiffy Corn Meal Muffin Mix
Mix all ingredients together. Pour in slightly greased pan or pans. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes.
I got up today at 5:00 a.m. to make this dish before class. Sadly, it was not a hit at the party. The spread, however, was wonderful since we have a group of such diversity. Many prepared dishes from their native lands. Everyone went around wanting the rest of us to try their dishes. I know many of the other students have only been in our country a short while and are struggling financially. But they really cooked enough to feed an army as they used to say. I enjoyed potato salad from Peru, grape leaves, chicken kabobs, cheese blintzes from Ukraine, egg rolls, fried rice, pot stickers, ham, salad, pizza. It was a feast and I even went back for seconds as most of us did. I was so glad I made my lowly corn casserole (or pudding as we always called it at my house) because it was a contribution. Anyway, now I am eating it for my dinner and I have to say it is pretty tasty. I should have made more of an effort to get the others to try a taste.
I also realized after having such a great time at this little party, how much I have been missing small pleasures in my life. Widowhood can be isolating and now that I am getting back into the work force, I'll have an opportunity to increase my social network. I also need to make more of an effort to get out or do more for myself. The past months have been difficult and this was a break in the storm clouds. It has never taken much to please me - I'm not a diamond ring kind of gal - for me it is all about simple pleasures. Good food, some wine, intelligent conversation and interesting friends. I needed this party in my life right now - it revived me - it was fun - I forgot about my troubles for a bit and had a good time.
My sons got a big laugh when I came home and told them no one had eaten my dish. Gone are the days when I could and would go overboard with baking, cooking, volunteering and so on. But I am glad I was able to compromise and find a balance in being able to do something, rather than nothing. I found an inexpensive and easy dish to prepare - I made the effort - I was part of the team.
More balancing - our clinical instructor told us on Sunday that we need to bring some sort of breakfast to the last class next Sunday to thank the nurses and CNAs who have worked with us. I have to say that I was a little put off by this - I always think such actions need to be presented as voluntary and not dictated. The student organizing this asked to collect $3.50 from the 10 of us. I thought about this and felt the amount was too much to ask for donuts and coffee so I gave what was affordable to me, $2.00. In the old days, BHD (Before Husband's Death) I would have just gone with the flow and put in the $3.50. But I'm not the same person I was, nor am I in the same position. And it felt good to do something on my terms for a change.
Flash forward to the present. My Certified Nursing Assistant Program ends this week and a party with the 32 students was planned. We were all supposed to bring a dish for a pot luck lunch. My heart wasn't in making anything. Things are just too crazy right now. I thought about picking up a nice platter of holiday cookies or brownies. But in the end tried to come up with a dish that would be very simple and quick to make. I decided on corn pudding because I associate corn with Thanksgiving and I love the dish. My huge cookbook collection never got unpacked so I went online to see what I could come up with. I found the Jiffy Corn Bread recipe for Corn Casserole and went with it because it doesn't get much simpler than that.
Jiffy Corn Casserole
1 can whole kernel corn undrained
1 can creamed style corn
1 stick butter, melted
2 eggs, beaten
1 tsp. sugar
8 oz. sour cream
Small box of Jiffy Corn Meal Muffin Mix
Mix all ingredients together. Pour in slightly greased pan or pans. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes.
I got up today at 5:00 a.m. to make this dish before class. Sadly, it was not a hit at the party. The spread, however, was wonderful since we have a group of such diversity. Many prepared dishes from their native lands. Everyone went around wanting the rest of us to try their dishes. I know many of the other students have only been in our country a short while and are struggling financially. But they really cooked enough to feed an army as they used to say. I enjoyed potato salad from Peru, grape leaves, chicken kabobs, cheese blintzes from Ukraine, egg rolls, fried rice, pot stickers, ham, salad, pizza. It was a feast and I even went back for seconds as most of us did. I was so glad I made my lowly corn casserole (or pudding as we always called it at my house) because it was a contribution. Anyway, now I am eating it for my dinner and I have to say it is pretty tasty. I should have made more of an effort to get the others to try a taste.
I also realized after having such a great time at this little party, how much I have been missing small pleasures in my life. Widowhood can be isolating and now that I am getting back into the work force, I'll have an opportunity to increase my social network. I also need to make more of an effort to get out or do more for myself. The past months have been difficult and this was a break in the storm clouds. It has never taken much to please me - I'm not a diamond ring kind of gal - for me it is all about simple pleasures. Good food, some wine, intelligent conversation and interesting friends. I needed this party in my life right now - it revived me - it was fun - I forgot about my troubles for a bit and had a good time.
My sons got a big laugh when I came home and told them no one had eaten my dish. Gone are the days when I could and would go overboard with baking, cooking, volunteering and so on. But I am glad I was able to compromise and find a balance in being able to do something, rather than nothing. I found an inexpensive and easy dish to prepare - I made the effort - I was part of the team.
More balancing - our clinical instructor told us on Sunday that we need to bring some sort of breakfast to the last class next Sunday to thank the nurses and CNAs who have worked with us. I have to say that I was a little put off by this - I always think such actions need to be presented as voluntary and not dictated. The student organizing this asked to collect $3.50 from the 10 of us. I thought about this and felt the amount was too much to ask for donuts and coffee so I gave what was affordable to me, $2.00. In the old days, BHD (Before Husband's Death) I would have just gone with the flow and put in the $3.50. But I'm not the same person I was, nor am I in the same position. And it felt good to do something on my terms for a change.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Barrel of Laughs!
My other close girlfriend called the other day to check up on how I was doing. She divorced in March, just sold her home and is in the process of moving into a townhouse. It felt so good to connect with and talk another person going through some of the same life changes as I. To hear her say that her back is so sore from the packing up and moving of her home. How I can relate to that having experienced the worst aches and pains of my life just a few weeks ago! She also admitted to the confusion and stress of living out of boxes and not being able to find anything. During our conversation she would interject, "This is just a barrel of laughs!" She added, "We did what had to be done."
My friend's husband has been out of work for two years and avoids contact with her because of child support issues (he claims he doesn't have the money to pay her now). So she has been handling a lot of life on her own although her family has provided emotional and financial support.
Anyway, I think that we all need opportunities to connect with others in our positions because it helps us realize that we are not crazy and that we are doing the best we can under the circumstances we were given. When we are in limited contact with others or only with those in better situations, it can make us feel inferior and/or helpless/hopeless.
Today I am grateful for anything and everything fall including:
1. Pumpkins
2. Hot apple cider
3. The gorgeous changing leaves
4. The nippy, crisp weather
5. Apple and pumpkin pie
6. Halloween
7. The fall colors of gold, rust, sage, orange, red, brown
8. Going back to drinking hot tea again
9. Shortened days that make you appreciate the daylight hours more
10. Mums
My friend's husband has been out of work for two years and avoids contact with her because of child support issues (he claims he doesn't have the money to pay her now). So she has been handling a lot of life on her own although her family has provided emotional and financial support.
Anyway, I think that we all need opportunities to connect with others in our positions because it helps us realize that we are not crazy and that we are doing the best we can under the circumstances we were given. When we are in limited contact with others or only with those in better situations, it can make us feel inferior and/or helpless/hopeless.
Today I am grateful for anything and everything fall including:
1. Pumpkins
2. Hot apple cider
3. The gorgeous changing leaves
4. The nippy, crisp weather
5. Apple and pumpkin pie
6. Halloween
7. The fall colors of gold, rust, sage, orange, red, brown
8. Going back to drinking hot tea again
9. Shortened days that make you appreciate the daylight hours more
10. Mums
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Another Casualty
On Saturday at work, I ran into the male half of a married couple my husband and I knew. When I remarried, I invited them to my wedding, although they did not attend. Our kids were in the same classes and my husband coached youth athletics with the dad, while I volunteered at the holiday school parties with the mom. She stopped by my home just a few days before my husband died to offer her support. A few years later, we sat at the pool and I listened to her as she spoke about some marital disappointments. She shared the story of a college friend of hers who'd been widowed and then remarried and that gave me hope.
The dad is a successful and popular civic leader in our community. He knew about my foreclosure. So when we saw each other at the big box store where I work, I mentioned that I appreciated his kindness and tact in regard to that matter. I briefly explained about my divorce. He asked how the boys were doing. I inquired in kind and was taken aback when he told me that he and the wife had divorced in 2008. I experienced a range of reactions. Of course, some shock and sadness. But I was also a little suspect at his version of the story. I immediately wondered if his power and wealth contributed to the divorce. When I asked if he is dating, he admitted to seeing a woman who is the mom of one of his son's friends. Hmmm, I wondered...
The other reaction that I also felt immediately was "Finally, someone in our community who has also had to face a rough time in life!" My hardships have been difficult to face in part because of the insulated community in which I live. It is a charming, quaint town with little evident poverty. Mostly upper-middle class and above. Most women do not work outside the home even in today's day and age. When my second husband first came to visit me, he could not believe the number of luxury cars and SUVs being driven. A sale's clerk at the local Talbot's women's clothing store told me she has nicknamed our town "Mecca." Although I am sure I cannot be the only one facing financial problems that resulted in me having to sell my home, I have not known anyone personally in this position, except for my newly divorced friend. So along with my widowhood being very isolating, so too have been the other complications of my life - lack of family support, the divorce, etc.
The dad was buying three cartloads of household items and I wondered if he is redecorating because of a new level reached in his romantic relationship. I thought about all that this couple had faced together - they were teenage sweethearts and each supported the other throughout college. After school, they dealt with infertility, adoption, serious health problems and their share of aging parent issues. The mom is a few years older than I am. Dad got custody of the kids. My mind flashed to a scene from our kids' grade school days. The mom and I were picking up our children from school and I saw her oldest run into her waiting, open arms. They were smiling and laughing and I was so struck by the apparent love between them that that moment has remained etched in my mind all these years.
I know now that there is another mother out there hurting and in pain over a life she expected to have that didn't end up as planned. I cannot imagine her distress over not seeing and being with her children on a daily basis. My mind flashes to another image of her in the craft store as we shop for Halloween favors for our children's school parties. Her son is seated in the cart; another memory - the adoring look in her eyes as she brushed the hair off her other son's forehead in the bleachers at a little league baseball game.
I will have to call one of her closer friends to try and contact her, invite her to lunch. I will share my story of woe but offer to listen to hers and to try and comfort her in some small way.
I am almost ashamed to admit that this family's hardship has made me feel better. I know that I am not the only one in this land of Mecca that is experiencing tremendous loss and change. God help all of us middle-aged parents facing the tulmultuous changes brought on by death, divorce, financial hardship, illness and sandwich generation problems. Don't pass us by because we are living in a community where so many are fortunate and problems seem to be faced by so few.
Today I am grateful:
1. For seeing yellow school buses again.
2. For the way the shadows of the leaves were dancing across my comforter this morning.
3. For the lovely breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees outside in the warm sunlight.
4. For graham crackers with peanut butter.
5. For s'mores.
The dad is a successful and popular civic leader in our community. He knew about my foreclosure. So when we saw each other at the big box store where I work, I mentioned that I appreciated his kindness and tact in regard to that matter. I briefly explained about my divorce. He asked how the boys were doing. I inquired in kind and was taken aback when he told me that he and the wife had divorced in 2008. I experienced a range of reactions. Of course, some shock and sadness. But I was also a little suspect at his version of the story. I immediately wondered if his power and wealth contributed to the divorce. When I asked if he is dating, he admitted to seeing a woman who is the mom of one of his son's friends. Hmmm, I wondered...
The other reaction that I also felt immediately was "Finally, someone in our community who has also had to face a rough time in life!" My hardships have been difficult to face in part because of the insulated community in which I live. It is a charming, quaint town with little evident poverty. Mostly upper-middle class and above. Most women do not work outside the home even in today's day and age. When my second husband first came to visit me, he could not believe the number of luxury cars and SUVs being driven. A sale's clerk at the local Talbot's women's clothing store told me she has nicknamed our town "Mecca." Although I am sure I cannot be the only one facing financial problems that resulted in me having to sell my home, I have not known anyone personally in this position, except for my newly divorced friend. So along with my widowhood being very isolating, so too have been the other complications of my life - lack of family support, the divorce, etc.
The dad was buying three cartloads of household items and I wondered if he is redecorating because of a new level reached in his romantic relationship. I thought about all that this couple had faced together - they were teenage sweethearts and each supported the other throughout college. After school, they dealt with infertility, adoption, serious health problems and their share of aging parent issues. The mom is a few years older than I am. Dad got custody of the kids. My mind flashed to a scene from our kids' grade school days. The mom and I were picking up our children from school and I saw her oldest run into her waiting, open arms. They were smiling and laughing and I was so struck by the apparent love between them that that moment has remained etched in my mind all these years.
I know now that there is another mother out there hurting and in pain over a life she expected to have that didn't end up as planned. I cannot imagine her distress over not seeing and being with her children on a daily basis. My mind flashes to another image of her in the craft store as we shop for Halloween favors for our children's school parties. Her son is seated in the cart; another memory - the adoring look in her eyes as she brushed the hair off her other son's forehead in the bleachers at a little league baseball game.
I will have to call one of her closer friends to try and contact her, invite her to lunch. I will share my story of woe but offer to listen to hers and to try and comfort her in some small way.
I am almost ashamed to admit that this family's hardship has made me feel better. I know that I am not the only one in this land of Mecca that is experiencing tremendous loss and change. God help all of us middle-aged parents facing the tulmultuous changes brought on by death, divorce, financial hardship, illness and sandwich generation problems. Don't pass us by because we are living in a community where so many are fortunate and problems seem to be faced by so few.
Today I am grateful:
1. For seeing yellow school buses again.
2. For the way the shadows of the leaves were dancing across my comforter this morning.
3. For the lovely breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees outside in the warm sunlight.
4. For graham crackers with peanut butter.
5. For s'mores.
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