Wisdom From the Arch

I fell in love with St. Louis. It is a clean, pretty city, very easy to travel in. After living in the Chicago area all my life, the traffic there was nothing! Lots of pretty plants, flowers and parks. I felt safe.

While visiting the Arch, we spent some time in the gift store looking at the books. I was captivated by the large number of diary accounts from women who'd gone West. Part of me knows I'd have made a lousy pioneer. Think about how rustic life was back then. I can't get through a day without showering. Back then they only washed up once a week if that. And how would I live without some makeup? Good thing I'm living now though of course modern life brings on a different set of difficulties.

I love the whole symbolism of the Arch. That it is a tribute to those who went Westward despite the dangers and passed through St. Louis as the gateway to a new life. The shape of the Arch is derived from the bridge that was built over the river because St. Louis was missing out on much needed trade to Chicago because they were cut off from trade routes. The designer of the bridge had never built one before and used arches in the construction. Even today, bridges follow his structural design.

Even way back then, men and women advertised for mates in the personals. But I saw that most advertising were widows, usually with a child or two. They were willing to travel Westward for another chance at marriage. This just confirms my belief that there is something inside us that seeks companionship on an imtimate level.

One of the diary accounts I was leafing through ended with this: the authour was at the end of her life somewhere on the West coast. She had lived as a rancher admitting that her life at times had been very hard. But she added, a life without challenges didn't seem to her to be as full when compared to an easier life when everything always went well.

Yin Yang

Appropriate for today's royal wedding - "There is a male yang to every female yin. As Richard Bach puts it, "You are never given a dream without also being given the power to make it true. You may have to work for it, however." Quote taken from "Love in 90 Days" by Diana Kirschner, PhD.

Tomorrow my youngest son will be attending Prom and my oldest son will do so in two weeks. Spring brings with it thoughts of love. I am feeling more optimistic about life in general and the prospect of love too. Flowers are blooming here but still no leaves on the trees. After about two weeks of constant rain, there was sun today. We are grateful for not experiencing the tornadoes that devastated the South.

More options are presenting themselves to me. My manager at work told me how pleased they are with my performance and I am perfect for what they want in the position. My oldest son is eager to be going off to college at the end of the summer. Both boys are working, my youngest was promoted to supervisor and will be earning $20.00 hourly. I will be starting my Library Asst. classes in just a month. The harsh weather is finally over and I don't have to worry about that for the next seven months. What a relief that is! My family and I are closer than we have been in a long while.

I still wish there were more free hours in my life to stop and smell those newly blooming flowers. I would like to take a short vacation and have a lunch out with my sister. But life is so busy with the end-of-year school activities. Until then, I have my knit club and my attention has been reinvigorated to pare down my possessions in anticipation of moving once my youngest finishes his senior high school year. All of us seem to be on course for moving onward and away from this location but that it okay. It is time and we are ready.

World Place

I was reading before bed last night - Claire Cook's "Must Love Dogs" and a passage really struck me. It contained the word "world" and I knew that would be the "W" word I would post about today.

"I even missed Kevin. No, it was more that I missed the idea of a Kevin. Having a husband, even one I barely talked to, had given me a certain status, a respectability, a belonging. I had a place in the world. I knew what I'd be doing tomorrow, even if it wasn't particularly interesting."

Having a place in the world. Somehow I seem to have lost that place since my husband's death and then losing another to divorce. At least that is what it feels like to me. To be floating around in this vast world without that deep connection to another being. I feel without roots, powerless. My identity and worth was so tied up within my marriage.

It was good to read these words and gain new understanding and perspective as to how I feel and see myself. Good to see how someone else expresses these emotions and to be able to grasp the meaning at such a deep level.

Of course I know that I am important just by myself. That my life has value and meaning. I've done the best I can to raise two young boys to be productive citizens of the world. That is worth something. But when all is said and done, I realize for me the value and importance of being connected to someone within a relationship/marriage. There is no shame in admitting or needing that. It is who I am. A widow wanting out of widowhood.

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.

Love

Of course I have to write about love today. Following are a couple quotes from Jane Green's "Dune Road" that I found relevant to me.

"Love is about companionship. It's about having someone by your side as you enter your golden years."

"She has been trying to tell herself that she isn't missing Adam, she is missing someone. Someone to help, someone who will ensure she won't have to do everything, absolutely everything in her life all by herself."

"Loving requires acts of love. It requires thinking of your spouse, doing things for them to make them happy. It requires acting in loving ways, even when you are tired, or bogged down with work, or so stressed you are waking up every night with a jaw sore from grinding your teeth."

"They forgot to love each other. they expected love to continue, without putting any work into it..."

"She just doesn't think she has the energy to start again, not to mention traumatizing the children even more."

"She has become more selfish, she knows, since living on her own with the kids. She is used to having everything done her way, is used to her stuff being her own..."

"It is so nice to have someone tell her son to behave, so nice to not be the only one dealing with the kids, attempting to teach them manners, reprimanding them. It is so nice not to be the bad cop all the time."

These statements capture a lot of how I feel about my life as a widow and only parent. Tonight I sat on the bleachers for a volleyball game and was behind two couples I've known since the boys were four and five. One of the husbands put his hand on the small of his wife's back and rubbed it in a circle. The moment lasted just a minute. Did this women even really notice his gesture? Then the wife of the other couple leaned on her husband for support as she got up. Another moment that lasted just an instant but which I saw with such intensity and clarity. I thought of how my husband and I should have been part of that group of couples, would have been if he were still alive. I would have most likely needed his support getting down the steep risers but as it is, I clomp clumsily down on my own.

I had love in my life and support and an involved co-partner and parent. We were really a good team together and good parents to the the boys. We had a good life. We were good citizens and people.

So now I tiredly get through the days on my own. But I continue to hope and dream of love. That it will touch my life again. That I'll be able to live with a partner in the future who will enrich my life and that both of us can grow and become better people because of our togetherness. That I'll be able to lean on someone going down the bleachers.

Jewel

A couple of weeks ago I made the conscious decision to start referring to myself privately as "Jewel." Kind of changing my name so to speak. This came about because of a situation I was having with a friend, said friend saying negative comments about the feelings I was having about certain things. It was also brought on by a couple books I've been reading by Claire Cook, who I just randomly discovered and is wonderful. Please check her out if you are not familiar with her. She wrote the book "Must Love Dogs," which was made into a movie. Her topics are about mid-life women empowering themselves and standing tall.

So after being bashed by this friend I just kind of had it. I thought about past relationships and patterns with them. I do have a history of being around people who don't treat me with respect. A number of romantic relationships have been with commitment fearing men. Well, no more I said. I deserve to be in healthy relationships where I'm treated respectfully and my opinion matters. In romantic relationships I do deserve to be courted (given small tokens, cards, flowers and so on).

I was lucky to have not had to deal with all of this stuff during my 12-year marriage. But now back out there as a single person it is a relevant aspect of my life. I have the choice to end relationships that aren't healthy or giving me what I want. I love a passage in Claire Cook's book "The Wildwater Walking Club," where the main character decides not to give men a second chance if they don't call here when they say they will. "Grow up" she tells them. That inspired me.

Only parenthood and widowhood is grueling. I really do the best I can. But it is hard. And I don't deserve to hear negativity about me for no reason other than the insecurities or immaturity of others. I don't have time for that anymore. I deserve better.

I can treat myself as a jewel and expect to be treated equally that way by others. And of course I need to look at other people as being their own jewels as well. Sunday night the boys and I watched Celebrity Apprentice, a family tradition. The Atlanta Housewife contestant bashed sweet Latoya Jackson by calling her a "ghost,' "old," and riding on the coattails of her family name. I was pretty shocked. It was very mean and immature. Who is this Atlanta housewife anyway? I've never even heard of her until this show. To resort to putting people down based on their appearance is so childish. Latoya was so gracious and dignified. I would not have been able to restrain myself and most likely would have hurled an insult back. But LaToya did not do so and believe me she just blew me away with her ability to stand up to such an attack on her person.

Ellen DeGeneres ends each of her shows with the words. "Be kind to one another." So here is a reminder for that and for all of us to look deeper within, especially when we're angry or upset with one another. A jewel wouldn't be insulting another jewel now would they - both are beautiful and precious!

Intimacy

I decided to post about intimacy today because it has been on my mind recently. Although I live with my two sons, go to work, have a few friends including a long-distance guyfriend and have been attending a weekly knitting club made up of 50 members, I still feel such an emptiness in the intimacy department.

I am a different person since my husband died. I am far more negative, less optimistic/hopeful and complain more than is probably healthy. I wasn't like this when I was married. Being married and the intimacy I felt within my marriage made me feel safe, loved and protected. There weren't that many reasons to feel negative or complain.

Since my husband's death I have not been able to feel the happiness and security I felt as a married mother and wife. There is such an unfilled void.

I was talking with another widow about 15 years my senior at the knit club. Her children are grown and her husband (it was a remarriage) was ill for four years after a stroke before his death last year. She told me that she has filled her life with people and activities - 3 knitting clubs, 2 gardening clubs, a book club, three cruises in the past 12 months, one of which was a gift from her children and to top it off she is extremely active in local politics. Yet, despite all this, she found herself not going out for three days over the winter and feeling frantic for a personal connection. She was worried that she was monopolizing the cashier's time by talking to her at the check out.

There is an intimacy that comes from living with a romantic partner that cannot be captured by a sibling, child, friend or grocery clerk. Personal interaction is needed on all levels of course but a husband's love can't be duplicated by a non-husband.

I took my youngest, A., to another Build-A-Bear yesterday so he could get a Panda dressed in a tux. The bear is holding a note that says, "It would be unpandabearable if you did not attend Prom with me, Love, Magic Oreo (the name of the bear). I just thought the bear was too cute for words dressed in the little outfit. Usually I put my nose up at these kind of things (the clothes are all made in China, tsk, tsk) but I'm letting my son have the pleasure of asking his nice, beautiful and smart girlfriend to the Prom with this gesture. He is in cahoots with his girlfriend's mom. They are going to put the bear somewhere in her house while she is out so it will be a surprise when she comes home and finds it.

This bear and the thoughtful gesture behind it seem to symbolize intimacy. A gift given in love, trying to please another, finding joy in the gesture itself, giving something meaningful to the other (she likes Panda bears apparently).

People tell widows they have to make the best of their situations and be grateful for all they do have in their lives. Yes, that is true. But somethings in life are truly not interchangeable. If you don't have intimacy in your life it can't be replaced with something else. Intimacy is built from trust, love, time, acceptance, friendship, compatibility, support, forgiveness - a whole combination of characteristics and values. And a very tall order to fill indeed.

Angela's Ashes

Just finished Frank McCort's memoir, Angela's Ashes. I have had this book on my shelf for years and avoided reading it because I knew it would be sad. There was already so much sadness going on in my life already, I didn't want to bring more in. But in March, I always try to read a few books by Irish authors. And I'd read a quick one by Maeve Binchey so decided before the month ended I'd finally pick up Angela's Ashes. I finished it in two-three days. And now wish I had someone to discuss it with. It is yes a sad book, but very impacting. So you forgive the sadness.

What would I want to discuss? The role of the Catholic church in the lives of its followers; the funny parts of the book; how angry I was at Frank's father for his alcoholism; the anger I felt at Frank's family for knowingly treating he and his family poorly; the relationship between ignorance and poverty. That would just be a start. I will definitely have to get the sequel "'Tis" as soon as I am able, because now I am on pins and needles wanting to know what happens next. And I had forgotten that this memoir was made into a movie so I can look forward to seeing that too.

I guess the tie in here to widowhood is how much I miss having someone to talk to, really talk to about books, life, my feelings, dreams, fears, etc. You can't have much of a meaningful conversation with the grocery check-out clerk. Both of my husbands filled this role, and I will have to say that my second husband and I talked much more at length and at a deeper level than my first husband and I did. He also asked me to always relate the plots of the books I was reading and I appreciated his interest. To have someone ask you to fully relate the plot of the book you've finished and to really be interested in your rendition of it!

I brought up my desire to discuss this book while I was at my knit club and someone shot back with, "Join a book club." Boy, I've heard that one a lot over the years. But I guess what I'm missing here is not so much the need to discuss a book, but the deeper need for intimacy with another person.

At the volleyball tournament tonight as I sat alone in the stands, I looked at the couples around me. They seemed so familiar with one another. To know someone so well as to have them be predictable - that is a good thing. I imagined these couples going home tonight and into their beds and then making love with one another. Each of them so familiar with one another that the curves and creases of their known bodies bring them comfort, safety and a sense of security. As well as excitement.

This October I would have been married to husband #1 for 20 years and we would have shared the intimacy I felt radiate from the couples on the stands with me. I have never been excited about the prospect of dating again because it will be fun to get to know someone and all the stuff about the glow of new love. The first time husband #1 and I had sex I remember saying to him, "Oh, just let's do it to get it over with. After this first time it will start getting way better."

Talking about Angela's Ashes would lead to more deeper conversation. I hope someday to have the level of intimacy I shared with both my husbands. I hope to feel that familiarity that comes from really knowing someone and accepting them, flaws and all. And in fact loving them for their flaws.

Books/Authors/Widows

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recharging/Replanting Needed

I feel like I can't win. I complain that I don't have a social life, yet am too tired to participate in one. I've been invited out for drinks and dancing tomorrow night with my new friends from the complex, but now want to just stay home and watch Dateline. It is the end of the week and as usual, so much going on between work, show choir, school, dr. visits, picking up prescriptions, making dinner, doing laundry...

My son will be performing on local t.v. tomorrow and has to be at school no later than 5:45. I am at the dry cleaner every other day to make sure his multiple show choir costumes are clean and pressed! Then on Sat. the group will be performing locally. I plan on being at the contest all day and am looking forward to it. But again, I'll have to see my son off early in the a.m., etc.

The nice people who have invited me to join them tomorrow are not currently raising children and some do not work. Still, I feel so guilty for not wanting to go out with them. Well, I'll rephrase that. I'd like to join them but I'm so tired and not in the mood for a crowded bar/restaurant type place with loud conversation, drinking and dancing.

I hate that widowhood brings with it all this new stuff to worry about. When I was married, on Friday night it was a given that my husband and I would just be at home relaxing with the kids. It was happy, comfortable family time. We let down our hair and just were ourselves. Now I have concern that I'll be offending these people and can't understand why it is so hard for me to do what I want to do which is to stay home and relax after a hectic week.

I guess the right way to define it is that widowhood has made my life so much more complicated as illustrated by just his one example. I am trying to make a valiant effort to only do things that I want to do and if my heart isn't in an activity I'm not going to force myself. As lovely as it would be to go out and socialize, I'm not a machine or robot. My battery has run down and recharging is needed. Yet I still struggle with that internal voice that tells me I have to be superwoman and make new friends and get out there and do the Friday night social thing... Many women struggle to say "no." Widowhood doesn't make that trait disappear, although I sure wish it had given me more strength to not care so much about what others think and pay more attention to my own feelings. I have found that widowhood has made me more sensitive to the opinions of others. I am constantly justifying my actions and thoughts. You'd think that the hardships I've faced would have toughened me up a bit. Funny that it hasn't worked out that way. I can already feel myself wavering and considering going just for one drink or just for an hour...

Valentine's Day Observations

I think I better post about Valentine's Day before the month of February is over. For the first time in many years, I did not feel the sense of pain and longing this day usually brings. Instead, I felt more of a universal focus of love rather than an emphasis on romantic relationships.

My close girlfriend and I had dinner at the restaurant I work at, which featured a special three-course meal and exchanged small gifts. I had to go to Target to purchase a set of sheets and passed by the card section. There was no longing or sadness as I looked at the large crowd surrounding the cards. What I did find of interest was that there was only one card to "My Boyfriend," although there were so many to "My spouse or better half." It just provided me with more evidence of how much our society recognizes couples and excludes or puts down singles.

The day approached and ended with me feeling happy and glad that there is a day recognizing love in all its forms and that is what I tried to keep in my heart during that time. I sent messages of good will to the people buying cards for their spouses and felt gratefulness for the love of my sons, the friendship and love of my girlfriend. Love has far more meaning and goes so much more beyond the limited boundaries of romantic/couple love our society elevates.

Opening the Door to 2011

My original Christmas gift from Sam was a cat necklace. He was so excited to give it to me and I was so initially disappointed. It looked like the ones my son and I had seen at Walmart for $5.00 and rather than put on a cheery face and say "I love it," I neutrally said, "It looks like the ones we saw at Walmart for $5.00 and after dating for 2 1/2 years I think I'm worth a little more than that." Sam told me the necklace wasn't from Walmart but I still didn't want the cat. Not that the cat wasn't cute - it was, but when I showed it to my youngest, he hooted with laughter and sputtered out a chocked, "Why did he get you a cat?"

Well, Sam got me a cat because I do like cats. Love them intensely would be more like it and I've had cats my entire life, at one point even owing eight of them (after one had kittens)! But that was the problem. I saw myself putting on the necklace and becoming even more branded as a "crazy, widowed cat lady." Yes, I know there isn't a whole lot of logic behind this. But my mind equated the cat necklace with my widowed status and quite frankly I am fed up of being a widow and have resolved to not be a widow any longer than I have to in 2011. In fact, my resolution for 2011 is to work on ditching the widowhood gig.

So I sincerely did not want the cat necklace and wouldn't have enjoyed wearing it. I would have dreaded wearing it. I kindly asked Sam if he would please return it for a design I had been coveting all year - a key. At first he resisted and said he wouldn't take it back and then he said he wasn't even sure he had the receipt. When I told him I would take it back myself for an exchange with or without a receipt he sprang into action and the next day I received my key necklace.

I LOVE the key necklace. It is symbolic of hope, opening the door to a new year and new future. I don't want to keep accepting things that are given to me that I don't like or want. I think all of us are entitled to have things that are meaningful and that we love in our lives. It is one of the reasons I make sure the gifts I give are items that are really wanted or I give gift cards. No longer do I want to pretend to be happy with items that don't make me happy just to make other people more comfortable.

So I got my key necklace and it makes me happy and hopeful. But it does bother me a little that I had such a negative reaction to the cat necklace in the first place. I just want to move beyond the widowhood label, and identification with it. I don't want to be a widow anymore. I want an identity beyond widowhood and one that looks more positively into the future. For me that does mean moving on toward a committed relationship leading to marriage. I hold the key in my hand but need to start opening and unlocking some doors to reach that goal. It is okay to want this and go after it. No one is going to send me a new husband knocking on my door. But I have the power to knock on doors and see how they open. Will Sam open one of them? I don't know anymore. I do know that if he isn't opening the door now, that I need to look for a man who is ready to do so - that I can't keep waiting indefinitely without some sort of formal commitment toward a future together.

Sam feels I want to get remarried because I am insecure. I disagree with him. I want to get remarried because it does offer security and benefits that do not exist otherwise in our society. No one questioned me wanting to get married when I married my husband at age 30. I still want love, safety, security, commitment, companionship - the whole nine yards like most people out there. I know that I thrive in a committed relationship and being in one that isn't exclusive is very unsettling to me. It is time to become unsettled and strive for what brings wholeness and contentment to our lives, whatever that may be for each of us.

Taking The Plunge

I decided to go to the knitting club last night because of my terrible morning. My son was starting work at 9:30 and I was to start at 10:30. He left for his job and then came running back home after the van died around the corner. He was hysterical, worried about being late and not wanting to lose his job. I took him to work and then had to deal with the aftermath - the van was almost in the middle of the side street with the flashers on. My son had failed to mention that the van was practically in the middle of the street - I was grateful I hadn't been ticketed or towed!

So now I had to deal with moving the van to the side of the street, getting dressed and to my job within an hour. I got my youngest son out of bed and the two of us were unable to move the van ourselves. It was icy and neither of us could steer the wheel and my poor son was unable to maneuver the van backward. A nice maintenance man from the apartment complex next to ours took pity on us and assisted. He ended up steering the van while my son and I pushed. Then I slipped and fell on the ice - a total wipe out according to my son, which he said he saw coming.

We got the van moved safely to the side and I made it to work not on time, but not late enough to cause a problem. Then I got to start my brooding and worry about what is wrong with the van. It has been giving us trouble with starting but the gas gauge is also broken (sometimes) and my son told me it had stayed at the same position (above the halfway mark) for the past four days and he hadn't filled it. So, I am hoping that we simply need to get one of those red containers you see the poor people walking with on the side of the road and put in $5.00 of gas and see if it starts.

But what got me really moody and sad was the reality that yet again, I am picking up the pieces when something goes wrong and trying to figure out the solution. It was at this point that I definitely decided to go to the evening's knitting club. In the past, I would have been so down and out with the morning's events that I would have canceled. But the way I was looking at it was that this was the day I really should go to the club - when things have gone wrong and I am in need of a pick-me-up. When we keep waiting for all our ducks to be in a row before we can be happy or do something, then I think we'll be waiting forever.

And so despite having a crummy morning and then worrying about fixing the van and then being upset that I have no more energy to keep functioning as an only parent I made the decision to just go to the knit club and not put it off another week, when hopefully next week would be "better."

I walked up to our building entrance and ran into the nice woman who hosted the Christmas party I attended. She invited me to go out with some of the residents to a nearby sports bar New Year's Eve. I talked with her a little about my hectic morning and she commiserated with me having raised two daughters on my own. We both concluded that the nice maintenance man was a blessing because my youngest son and I would not have been able to move the van on our own and I didn't have the time to get it towed and get to work. She just encouraged me to keep going because in the end that is what we have to do - keep at it for our children.

At the knitting club which meets at a bakery cafe in the next town over, I was introduced to the 20-some women there (I was the youngest besides a member's granddaughter). I worked on my door stoppers/draft dodgers and turned out to be the fastest knitter among the group. The cafe owner treated our group to a tray of cookies fresh from the oven (he bakes something every week). We talked a little and he told me that many of the group members including himself are Facebook friends and involved with each other's lives, watching out for one another.

I am glad I went to the knitting group and plan on going again next week. I am enjoying knitting my draft dodgers, which are my Christmas gifts to myself. The cookie hot and fresh from the oven was divine! It was nice to meet and interact with new people. It was empowering to finally go out and do something just for myself instead of having the activity revolve around the boys. It was also exhilarating to go to an event without knowing anyone and have it turn out well. It gives me some confidence to go to other activities in the future.

One of the things I learned this year is that we shouldn't put our happiness on hold until our lives become better or more stable. If we do this we'll always be waiting to be happy. I have a feeling that my seeking happiness even in the midst of hardship will end up resulting in more happiness instead of the other way of thinking - that to be happier I have to already be somewhat happy.

Word Power

I miss my daily nature walks but at 7 degrees I do not enjoy going outside at all! I find that I am drawn to pots of evergreen, probably because they are the closest I am going to get to nature until it warms up a bit. This morning before work, I checked my email and read two that really touched me. One was from a newsletter I get from Lissa Coffey, author; very into kindness, spiritual growth, compassion. You can look her up at CoffeyTalk.com. Today's message was about change. "Everything is connected...No one thing can change by itself. Paul Hawken" Her message goes on to say that through the words of her newsletter, people are connecting all over the world. "The internet has made the world much smaller, so that we can experience our connection with each other more tangibly. And...as our community grows, and we each experience our own spiritual growth, we affect change in our world. Little by little, one by one, we are making a difference. And as the world changes, it inspires us as we see the possibilities, and we continue on our journey."

Wow! Talk about being blown away at 7:00 a.m.! I identify with Coffey's insight because I see blogging as a way of connecting with the larger world. I know that I hope my words reach others in good ways and that I have been touched by the words of others.

Some weeks back I had that chance encounter with two women from a neighboring town involved in a knitting club and got put on a weekly mailing list. Over the course of a few weeks, the initial emails I was receiving have increased. Now, I receive emails from other members of the group. I like this! I am benefiting from this group before I've even attended a single meeting! One email from last week, also struck me. The woman wrote about her knitting and how as she knit, she was reminiscing about her mother, now deceased. She reflected that she wished she had not been so at odds with her mother in the past because she misses her so much now.

Finally the second email from this morning was a lovely surprise Christmas greeting from a male friend, who graduated from the University of Missouri. He talked a little about some of the highlights from the past football season then wrote: "As all Mizzou fans know, we cherish our highlights because they seem to quickly disappear...we live to enjoy the moment! Everyone - enjoy your moments with your family and friends this holiday season...there is no better gift! Be safe."

Sometimes I find the words of others to be more profound than my own and so I pass them on here. I am grateful for the messages I receive via the internet, email and blogging throughout the year. I do believe, that change and kindness begin in each of us and that all of us have the power to bring more of the positive into the world. Here are three examples, four if you count this blog post of that occurring.

Yearlong Starbucks Fast Finally Broken!

My oldest forgot his lunch again this morning so I trudged over in the darned cold and could not resist taking a photo of the other "forgotten" lunches awaiting student pickup. This was less than the load that was out on Friday! My son is a good kid. He starts his new job after school. It's the week before Christmas Break and the kids are preoccupied. I'm not going to bash him for being an 18-year-old with a lot on his plate and make him suffer the consequences by having to forage amongst his friends for something to eat. He was voted out of this year's graduating class as:
1. Best Musician (Boy am I proud of him for this!)
2. Most Flirtatious (Even though he has had the same girlfriend for two years!)
3. Biggest Spaz (Whatever that is - I guess it means forgetful!)

The winter storm that hit us brought less snow than expected but bitter chill. Minnesota and Indiana have been really pummeled. But still, the cold these last few years has been hard for me to bear. Winter brings with it a whole lot of other and extra widowhood issues for me. But let's not dwell on that right now. Life is looking up.

It was a super busy weekend with the party on Friday night, taking my son to get his senior yearbook photo taken on Saturday, attending a "Christmas store" held in the community where parents could shop for low cost gifts for their children, choosing two per child and then the holiday concert extravaganza which historically lasts ALL afternoon at the high school, since all the music groups perform. This year they split the concert into two and my son had the later concert performance time. But my girlfriend wanted to see some of her students perform in the first concert (she teaches at the school) so I agreed to go to the earlier concert with her. So I was listening to holiday music from 1:00 in the afternoon until 5:30!

Thank goodness they split the concert into two, which should have been done years ago in my opinion. There wouldn't be enough seats for older folks, people would be reading the paper for the groups their kids weren't in and there was no available parking. This year was bad enough with the stormy weather - on Sunday there were wind gusts blowing snow of 40 mph!

Overall, despite the busyness, it was a good weekend. I was thankful that the yearbook photo was over since my son was so stressed out about it. He kept having me reschedule the appt. because of his minor acne even though I assured him that his photo would be retouched. Then I was able to get stocking stuffers and two gifts for each son for under $20.00 at the "Christmas store." AND my year long Starbucks fast was finally broken! My girlfriend treated me to a venti tea and peppermint brownie after the first holiday concert and it was heavenly!

I started my "fake" part-time job at the restaurant yesterday. It pays weekly and allows me more time to be around for the boys and to look for a "real" job in my field. I'll start up the search again full force after the holidays if the social services case mgt. position I interviewed for last week isn't offered to me. With this job there will be enough for groceries at least and that is a huge blessing! And it is way less work than that awful CNA job but I am the oldest employee there (think college kids with odd degrees that can't find work) and that is a little strange for me. I feel out of my element but am trying to bite the bullet and do what has to be done. Though let me tell you, sometimes that is way easier said then done!

Well, that's a recap of the past few days. I am so grateful the boys will have a modest Christmas. It is so much better than having nothing at all. Everyone seems to be in more hopeful and positive spirits. We still all have our moments - it remains hard at times. But there is food in the pantry, I've made some new friends, my son is graduating with wonderful memories and a solid athletic, musical, social and academic foundation behind him, relations between my family members have improved, I've still managed to maintain a long distance relationship with Sam despite numerous obstacles and the new year ahead seems brighter! And I've realized you can manage to survive without a Starbucks for over a year and still come out okay. In fact, maybe you come out ahead in the end, because that tea and brownie were so much more savored and truly appreciated compared to the days just three years ago when a weekly Starbucks visit was a routine part of my life.

Not Watching Dateline Alone

I am so glad I went to the party in my building tonight. I met a teacher, activity aide for seniors, school counselor who just obtained her master's, 72-year-old-grandma who holds a black belt and teaches karate, a hospital worker, and newly retired former business owner. The apartments I went into were furnished well, clean, attractive and tidy. Everyone was nice, pleasant and more than friendly. They all wanted me to go out dancing with them afterward but I begged off since tomorrow is a busy day for me. They're going out dancing again next week and want me to join them.

I know for a long time I have harbored intense feelings of failure and shame with myself for having had to move into an apartment. I've never lived in an apartment before. Perhaps I had some sort of white trash image of myself for having to be an apartment dweller. Tonight, however, my stereotypes were broken. That 72-year-old grandma worked two jobs after her divorce to raise her two daughters. She comes from another country and had no family to help her. She did what she had to do, she told me. The other women were divorced too, some with tales of rotten ex-husbands in jail. One of these women was an Irish dancer in the Riverdance Troupe. One divorced woman now lives with her mom. The 36-year-old activity assistant is raising an 8-year-old, although there is a dad whom he visits on weekends.

All in all, a bunch of pretty talented and interesting people. I showed them the video tape of my son performing at the talent contest this summer and told them he will be having an original composition played by the band for the spring concert. This new group of friends all said they wanted to attend the concert! Some of the group is going to take a self-defense class next week together. One woman showed us how to make these amazing star ornaments out of cut paper. The activity assistant asked the Irish dancer to show her how to perform an Irish jig so she can dance it in front of the seniors she works with.

I was complimented on how handsome and nice my sons are and that they have always been polite to the residents. I felt a sense of community, kindness and friendship that has certainly been lacking in my life. People offered to help one another in various ways. When I said I don't really have clothes suitable for going out dancing I was told that they'd come up with something between themselves that I could wear.

I sure hope this is not a one-time interaction. I'd like to be able to socialize like this again. Maybe I can plan a pot luck Valentine bash of my own or a January chilly/chili snowman party. I had been thinking of inviting two of the women I've gotten to know in for tea. I joked with them both that it was good I hadn't done so, because it was clear everyone would have enjoyed something stronger than tea!

Anyway, some aspects of my life seem to be on the upswing. I'm looking forward to socializing with the knitting group (one of the members brought in homemade English toffee at the last meeting - what a treat!). Now I've met some nice friendly people here. I'm feeling more confident about pursing a job in my field and not giving up during the process. Most of all, I feel I can hold up my head a bit higher. I'm an only parent doing what I can for my sons to keep them in the community so they can graduate from the high school they've both thrived at and the town they feel most comfortable in. I've done my best under the circumstances. I'm one of those nice people living in an apartment. So what. It doesn't make me less of a person or diminish my worth. As the 72-year-old grandma said to me to tonight as I complimented her apartment, "We might not own it but it is still our home." I learned a lot tonight and I am grateful for these lessons.

Chilly Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Winter again. It is so cold out there. Over the weekend, it snowed but I didn't scrape my car off until this morning - we all drove the van, and it took me almost an hour to do so since the ice was frozen on under a layer of snow. Winter has become my season of dread because it involves having to do more - check the weather, warm up the vehicles, scrape them off, wear more layers and boots... All these other extra steps to add to my already overburdened shoulders.

I had to go out to an appointment that led me through a strip mall. I noticed a number of elderly men dropping off their wives at the doors of various stores. It made me think back to the days when my husband scraped the cars and filled them with gas. Such a blessing when there was another pair of hands to assist with chores and duties. I went on thinking that I sure hope these women realize how nice it is to get dropped off in front of a door, to have someone pay you attention with kind, meaningful gestures that make a task or duty a little easier. I always say that if I am fortunate enough to remarry and live with a husband again, I will be way more thankful for gestures such as this than I was with my husband. I pretty much took his filling the tanks for granted.

I feel in general that all of us need to be more kind, gentle and tolerant of others. We seem to be so quick to snap to judgments and to be right. I hope these women are kind and caring wives at home. Carolyn Myss suggests that when we are ready to criticize someone, that we take those words and turn them on ourselves - try them on for size so to speak. Then after saying them to ourselves, we need to see how we feel. Chances are the criticism we're dishing out doesn't feel so hot. She then advises that we modify our words to be more gentle and less harsh. I really like this idea. To take a moment and step back and think about our words before delivering them. I know it is sometimes easier said - when we're angry or upset words tend to fly out pretty quickly. But with practice, change becomes easier. Just having this idea in my head will help me the next time I am ready to fling some words that would probably be better not spoken. I have a plan in place to step back and reflect. If I don't like hearing the words/advice/criticism I'm giving out if it is directed at myself and it is hurtful, why would I want to pass that on?

Step back for a moment and listen to the words being stated with your head. There is then time to modify those words with kindness from the heart.

A New Bunch of Hope

A few weeks ago I received an email from a woman I didn't know. I curiously read it and was surprised at the strange kinship I felt with this unknown person. The subject was about the books this woman was reading and I scratched my head thinking that this was like an update sent to a group of book club members. The thing that made it even more interesting was that the books this woman wrote about were either ones I'd read or also had an interest in reading. Then there was another strange connection. This woman added that she had been contemplating about how we need to work at making our ordinary days into ones less ordinary. I had just written a post about the same subject titled "The Sameness of Days." I was intrigued and ended up enjoying the email so much I saved it but then didn't think much more of it.

Then I got another email the next week and put two and two together when this woman listed all the knitting projects being worked on by a large number of other women. Turns out, this kind angel in disguise is one of the two women I randomly met at the knit shop about a month ago - the one who invited me to join their group and who asked for my email address (I'd forgotten I'd given it to her).

The week of Thanksgiving I received another weekly email and again was struck by this woman's insight and thought, "I like this woman - we think in similar ways." She wrote that she was listening to the new audio book by Carolyn Myss, "Navigating Hope," which deals with finding strength under adversity. First of all, I thought this was a good book for me to check out, then I appreciated her taking the time to relate some of the author's beliefs, which were appropriate for the Thanksgiving week.

She related that Carolyn believes we all need to be more mindful of every interaction made during our day and to strive to be kind in that every action. Since this is a goal I strive for myself, I was very interested. Then she described Carolyn's belief that she is a realist vs. being either an optimist or a pessimist. And I just loved this description! Because I think so often in widowhood I have been perceived as a pessimist for admitting that my life is what it is. Now, there is a new way for me to look at myself and to view the world. I can strive for a good outcome without being overly phony and fake with my optimism, while being real about my life. I just loved this outlook! It gave me some relief and new perspective. I was so thankful for having received it that I wrote the "unknown" woman an email back thanking her after explaining that at first I hadn't known who she even was.

I really thanked her for her kindness in reaching out to someone she didn't even know. I got back an almost immediate response in which she disclosed a bit about herself. She said, at age 55 she had been feeling at a loss because of not being able to find work so she is taking the Library Assistant Training Course at the Community College and doing her best to keep her mind active and strong. Having trouble finding work myself and being interested in the LAT training besides is another commonality.

All in all, this exchange again makes me think about the seclusion and isolation I have felt in my widowhood over the years. We need friends and interactions and stimulation to keep us alive and kicking. We need to hear new thoughts and ideas, whether we agree with them or not to keep us on our toes and our minds clicking. Living with my husband provided so much of that daily stimulation. We would discuss our jobs, news items, people we knew, events in the world and so on. All that was lost in one fell swoop the day I became widowed. I do admit that over the years I have become somewhat self-centered and selfish. It is hard not to when living alone. But I hope to start changing all of that. Just this small interaction occurring within the context of these emails has broadened my world, opened my eyes and given me new insights.

I chose today's photo because of the bunch of berries it depicted. We all need group support and contact with others. Relationships of love, trust and friendship. I am going to do my best to not lose my resolve to attend this week's knitting group and to continue to broaden my group of outside contacts. I don't want to become a withered single berry on the vine.

Healing Graces

The vase in this photo is the centerpiece from the dining table at my brother's, whom we had Thanksgiving dinner with. I liked that my sister-in-law had gone out into the yard to find branches with some remaining leaves and then added a single sprig of evergreen to the mix. Simple and elegant. Tasteful and congruent. It represented a blending of the seasons - fall and holiday that I can handle. Not like the huge urns of mums out at the shopping malls right up against the garish red and green wreaths and mistletoe.

Anyway, the dinner went well and relations with my family have improved all around. As hard as it is for me to accept this, I must take some responsibility for fostering better and more consistent contact despite the current obstacles in my life. Will we ever be the Waltons or Brady Bunch? No, but things can always be better and we can hope for improvement as well and not give up.

The boys and I visited with Sam over the weekend arriving home Wednesday night. I needed to get away for myself and Sam and I had not seen each other since mid-August. It is exceedingly difficult to maintain this relationship but we have continued to hang in there. I felt as if a huge weight was off my shoulders the few days of our visit, even though Sam worked Mon-Wed. Just being with another adult (and male besides) helps me in that way. He was off Sunday and treated the boys to a pizza buffet while he and I went to Ruby Tuesday on our own. Whenever we come back I am struck by how fast our time went. I never turned on the computer once, or accomplished much of anything. Sam and I made dinner one night together and that was fun. We always say we'll talk more than we end up doing - he remains committed to my staying here the next year and a half so my youngest can finish high school. He feels it is only fair to both the boys. Right now that seems so far away to continue to be struggling here on my own.

I am trying to develop the mindset of focusing on doing what I want to do and then doing so. I wanted to see Sam, I went for myself. So many times over the past years I have deferred my own desires for that of others. A small step but one that I will continue to try and concentrate more on. I wanted to spend the time with my family despite the estrangements of the past years. More importantly, I want to relate to everyone in my life (including myself) in a more honest and forthright manner. To being about healing and understanding and not be pointing fingers - that doesn't get anyone anywhere.

Friends

I received an email a few weeks ago from a woman I didn't recall knowing but I enjoyed it because it was all about the books she was reading and a number of them were ones I was interested in as well! Then the next week another email came and this one contained information about a weekly knitting group made up of about 30-40 women who rotate in and out. The email gave a description of the projects each woman who had attended the group that week had been working on. It dawned on me then that the email was from one of the women I randomly met at the knitting store I frequent and struck up a conversation with a few weeks back. She invited me to join the knitting group and asked for my email.

I haven't gone to a meeting yet because of football season and now they won't be meeting until after Thanksgiving but I am definitely going to attend the first week in December. There are two older widows in the group but still a connection and other women who although don't share my widowhood do face mid-life changes. It is not going to be easy to just show up and present myself to a group of strangers but the thing about knitting is that you can listen to others while keeping your hands busy and looking occupied. It was very nice that someone who doesn't know me took the time to add me to her email list and contact me.

I've written before about how widowhood has isolated me and that I have lost friendships I used to have because of my circumstances. Here is an opportunity to get back in a group and from there who knows where it will lead? I always believe that first steps result in others.

All of this reflection on friends made me consider the fact that sometimes I haven't been a good friend. I have two close girlfriends, both divorced and one has left me a phone voice mail message and another on Facebook, neither of which I've responded to. Widowhood sometimes robs me of my time management abilities. An issue comes up and I forget about the message. I use my circumstances as an excuse at times to not put the effort in I need to.

Friendship is a two way street as are relationships. They require give and take and the attention of both parties. I rationalize that because my divorced friends have lives a bit easier, they should do more of the "work." I realize that this is not the best attitude to take here. Yes, I have a stressful and tough life right now but that doesn't give me the excuse to totally throw in the towel. I may not be able to do as much as my girlfriends but I can do what I can. So I sent my girlfriend an email telling her I was thinking of her and wishing her well with the new man she is seeing. She wrote back and seemed very pleased that I'd thought of her and suggested we get together soon to talk. That will be something to look forward to.

I hate to say that I look at socializing as another job in among the many that are already crowding my plate. But I have to look at it as a job that will result in more good than negative and worth the extra effort I put into it. I do get so irritated that widows seem to have more than their share of jobs and that even non-jobs like maintaining friendships somehow become more tedious than they were before non-widowhood. I wish it were all easier and not so complicated all of the time.