Beyond Labels

My girlfriend is out of state at a week-long worship conference. The only way she'd consider attending was if her ex-husband moved into her home during her absence. Her oldest child is a son starting his junior year of college. Her daughter is going to be a senior in high school and her youngest will be a sophomore.

As a divorced mom, my friend's life is vastly different than mine. Her ex sees the kids twice weekly and takes them on three week vacations over the summer. He attends their sports events and has been there for the oldest, helping him find a job in the city, assisting with dorm moves, college costs etc. When there have been "problems" with the kids, my girlfriend has been able to seek the input and guidance of her ex. He has been there to advise the kids when they have sought his counsel.

I relate this now because of the conflict I have being lumped into the "single mother" category, which is the same one my girlfriend is in. When I first became widowed, I described myself as a "widowed mom." It wasn't a conscious decision but one made because that description seemed to be the one that fit the best and I was most comfortable with. I will admit that I didn't want it to be assumed that I was divorced by those who didn't know me because I had always made such a strong effort to work at my marriage.

Over the years, I've preferred the label "only parent" to "single parent" when referring to widowed parents. We are not the same as divorced parents that still work together as co-parents. Yes, I know there are some parents with limited involvement with their kids after divorce. But I am talking about those that do remain actively involved with their kids' lives and who do interact with their ex-spouses for the benefit of the kids.

There is no comparison between the lives of my friend's children and my own in regard to still having their father actively in their lives. Yes, they have faced hardships and emotional hurdles due to the divorce of their parents but what my sons would give to be able to have their Dad in their life.

My only point here with this post is to release some of the feelings I have in regard to being lumped into a group that isn't descriptive regarding differences. I think people just assume I'm a single mother and don't go beyond those generalizations. But only parents deal with a wealth of issues that aren't shared by the divorced. There is no ex-husband that can be called on to watch the kids for a week. No parent to discuss Junior's struggle in math class. There is usually another parent in the life mix who loves and cares for the kids. On the other hand, only parents are out on their own doing the parenting job of two by themselves. Some people might assume that it is great to be able to be the one making all the decisions. But it ends up being wearying not being able to get any input from another. And at least for me, I'm always worried about making mistakes because it is only what I decide.

I'm not trying to say that divorced people have it better than the widowed. But in terms of shared parenting there are advantages to having two parents still alive vs. only one. I also think the term single parent needs to be changed. Perhaps to "divorced co-parent." I guess I don't consider my girlfriend really a single parent because her kids do have their dad around. The kids live during the school year in her home, but she is certainly not parenting just by herself.

One Size Does Not Fit All (Divorced vs. Only Parents)

Soon into my widowhood I became aware that my status was lumped into that of "Single Parent" along with all the divorced folks out there. This might have happened around the time I attended a grief support group for singles held at a local church. Two of us had just been widowed, while the rest of the women were divorced (some for a number of years). The other widow and I immediately connected and some of the group sessions became difficult - at one, the divorced moms all insisted it was harder to be divorced and the other widow and I had it easier. It became a contest of whose lives were more challenging. The divorced women rationalized that theirs were harder because they had to have ongoing contact with their ex-spouses and to experience continued disappointment and betrayal.

I remember thinking two things: that it was a mistake to have combined a group of widows and divorcees and that even if their contact was bitter and disappointing, at least the divorced moms had ex-spouses still alive to have contact with!

I have just finished reading Theo Pauline Nestor's book on her divorce, "How to Sleep Alone in a King-Size Bed, A Memoir of Starting Over." While there are many similarities to being divorced and being widowed, there are differences and these seem to go unnoticed because everyone single just gets lumped into the group "Single Parent." I started to describe myself as a "Widowed Mom" and then my therapist introduced me to the descriptive label "Only Parent." As a widow there is no ex-husband to talk to about report cards and the defiant behavior of your son to his math teacher. He is not around to take the kids on Friday nights or the weekend to provide a much needed break from the drudgery of never ending housework and attending to the needs of the kids. Ex-husbands usually live somewhere nearby and can be called upon to fix a leaking sink or some other matter if necessary.

Theo very accurately describes the tensions and struggles of parenting and forging ahead on her own. But she is not truly alone or as alone as those of us who are widowed. She talks about all the finagling necessary so she could go on a trip or to visit her new long-distance boyfriend. There is an added step for only parents in this process, especially those who do not have family to rely on. She relates scenes in which she has to comfort her grieving daughters. For our families, grief is more profound. Not only has the family been forever changed, now the kids have lost their father forever. Theo's ex comes over to make minor repairs in her home, he helps her pack up the house and to help her move. On the nights he has the girls she treats herself to a massage, browses bookstores and has dinner out at a favorite Chinese restaurant. I have never had a massage, nor gone out for dinner on my own. I unfortunately browse bookstores way too often. The point being, however, that she did have a window of opportunity to focus on herself, whereas that is something I know for me at least has been an extremely rare commodity. When her ex has the girls for an entire week, Theo paints the house and moves the girls into their own rooms. She has enough time to even shop for new furniture at IKEA and hire movers and an electrician! Wow! A few years ago, I was so jealous of a close girlfriend whom is divorced because when her ex took their children on a three-week vacation she did something of the same in painting her home and buying new furniture. She also spent a lot of time at Starbucks and bookstores. I have never sat a Starbucks to wile away an hour. In my widowed life there has never been an hour to wile away!

So in conclusion what is my point? I don't think I have any specific one here. Just that there is a difference between folks lumped together in that "Single Parent" category and it is necessary for us to make distinctions between only parents and divorced parents. Most people out there don't realize or recognize the differences and we should inform them.

Today I am grateful:

1. That the sun is out again. What a difference this really can make on our moods and perspective.
2. There is that hint of Spring in the air. This results in feelings of hope, renewal and peace. (And cute Easter bunnies and flowers and lighter jackets.)
3. That we really made it through a challenging and difficult Winter.

Identity Crisis - So Who Am I Now?

One of the reasons I have been dreading the finalization of this divorce is that now I will be forced to add the label of "Divorcee" to my already complicated persona. I liked the label of "Widow." If there is any perk at all to being a widow it is that label. Say it and it immediately garners a certain level of respect from others. It is also a relatively simple label to describe. "I am a widow." Response - "Oh, really. You are so young. How and when did he die?" This is far less complicated than what I imagine the exchange now to be. "I was a widow but then remarried and now I am a what? A widdiv? And the marriage didn't work because it was very messy and complicated because my husband had never been married and it was hard for him to accept my teenaged boys and my mom was dying when we were supposed to move to his home out-of-state, and then he got mad that we didn't move, and then I got mad because he wasn't supportive of my mom dying, and we were both stubborn middle-aged people (probably a little selfish), and it was hard for us to move from our community, and we probably got married too soon, and I didn't know he was so controlling and inflexible, and he also had a sexual disorder (but that really didn't bother me), and he refused to communicate with me or work on the marriage" and on and on and on. When you are widowed it is cut and dry. You could have had a terrible marriage but it doesn't matter. The widow title disguises that. But as someone who is now almost divorced I feel a sense of failure in addition to loss and that there is a need to explain/justify why the marriage failed.

I never really gave up my identity as a widow, even when I remarried in 2006. Because I was still living on my own the majority of my time since we had a long-distance marriage it always felt like I was still widowed. My husband commuted to our home on weekends and we spent all vacations and school holidays with him. But I never felt married and we never really cohabited together as a man and wife.

So what am I? I am not ashamed that I fell in love and remarried. I still believe in the great power of love and am proud that I took a chance on love. I would not go back and do it any other way. I remarried because I had hope and faith in the future. If I washed away my remarriage I would be getting rid of those heartfelt beliefs that I still cherish.

So I am a woman who was widowed at age 44, remarried at age 47 and divorced at 49. A widdiv. I will google the question of what you call a widowed divorcee and see if I come up with any more clever responses. But I think that I primarily view myself as a middle-aged-widow and I started calling myself Widow-in-the-Middle right after Husband #1 died.