Time Doesn't Heal All Things

In recent years there has been a greater acknowledgment of the myth of getting over one's grief. This seems due to the flurry of blogs and memoirs about grief. There also seem to be more fiction books tackling the subject as well.

I wish I'd known this when I first became widowed. At that time I was subjected to the platitude
of time healing all things. I really believed this too. Now I would have the guts to challenge the non-widowed person spouting this off to me with a reply of "How do you know this? What is your personal experience of this?" But back then I took it on with hope and naivety.

Since I actually believed this reasoning, I tried to rush my first year of widowhood vainly thinking that once all those first anniversaries had passed, so would my grief. What I found, however, was that for me the second year was worse because I realized with so much more intensity what I had really lost - that first year kind of passed by in a blurry, hazy fog. So it would have been far better for me if someone had given me the more sound advice of how grief doesn't just magically disappear but that the day-to-day intensity of it does eventually lessen.

I wanted to share this passage from Belva Plain's novel "Crossroads," published in 2008. I think it is a good example of how our perception of grief is becoming more realistic and healthy. Wish I had had the wise wisdom of Belva's words instead of the unrealistic platitudes. In the book, the main character has suffered a miscarriage.

"Gwen had learned that those who said time heals everything were wrong. There are certain hurts that never go away, like the one she'd sustained when she learned that Cassie had been lying to her about her birth parents. That ache was permanent...

But the loss of a baby was different. That pain would never go away, either...but you finally did figure out how to absorb it. It became a part of what you were and it changed who you were. At first you were convinced that you'd never be happy again, that the gray fog that enveloped you would always be there, then one morning you woke up and it was autumn, and the trees in the little park at the end of your street were spreading the seasonal gold and orange carpet on the ground. And you noticed in a deeper and more satisfying way the beauty of the fresh flowers your husband now brought home every week...you knew that you'd turned a corner. The sorrow for your dream of a child was in your heart, in the very blood that pumped through it, but somehow that released you to get on with your life."

Beautiful and real words.

Quality

Although tonight at Knit Club I was named "Queen of the Unusual Scarf," and you can see my latest creation to the right, I am going to post on the Q word quality - but queen would sure be a lot easier and shorter.


Quality. The word is all over the place. I see it in ads for nursing homes promising residents "quality care." If a product doesn't have the words "Satisfaction Guaranteed" on it, the words "Quality Guaranteed" are there. "Salon quality at an everyday price." "The quality of life."

It's that last statement that gets to me - quality of life. What happens when your life situation changes for the worse and you go down in life quality? How are we supposed to cope and manage with this? I bring this up because I am still struggling to put the pieces of my life back together and to get back on track. It is not an easy process or quick.

I think about just the mid-aged people out there who have lost jobs and haven't found anything going on a year or more at this point. What is going to happen to these people working in retail or restaurants after they've held management or professional jobs? I know from my experience that working in a non-professional capacity is wrecking havoc on my life right now. I try to be grateful I'm working at all, and I am because it means since December that I have been able to fully feed my family without resorting to the food banks (which I hope to never visit again). But it is still a part of my life that bothers me - the boredom and lack of challenge especially. It does make me feel somewhat diminished personally to have a master's degree but having difficulty finding suitable work. Although I know I join the ranks of 1,000s.

So that aspect of my life does lower the overall quality of my life along with the loss of a husband/partner and being an only parent the past 8 years.

In this society we learn as children to strive for the best we can afford and to move/trade up be it with a job, education degree, house, car, furniture etc. We don't learn much about recovering after a fall. I guess that is not supposed to happen. I never thought everything that has happened to me would occur - an educated, attractive, middle-class, very nice mom/person. I assumed my life would just keep moving up the ladder as I'd been told it would as a child.

The quality of my life is not what I want it to be right now. I'm tired. I don't get enough free time or recreation or sleep. I worry too much. I don't like living or sleeping alone. I want to garden again, laugh and smile more, feel lighthearted instead of always dragged down.

So many aspects of my life to better and work on. Changes seem to come so gradually. I am starting my Library Technical Assistant Program in May. I have to do something to move forward into the professional arena of life again. Simply starting the program will do a lot to restore my confidence and faith in the future. I need to feel that the work I do is of value and importance to the world, something beyond the realm of showing guests to their tables at the restaurant.

Quality in part means excellence and superiority. I can't settle or stand for certain things in my life right now. I have to improve the quality of my life. I have to restore some excellence and status. I suppose I've reached my personal limit. I want a better and easier and happier life.

Dismal Holidays Forcasted

Two million people are expected to lose their extended unemployment benefits this holiday season. People talk about not having trees, being able to afford gifts for their children and their lack of holiday spirit. I wrote about my food pantry experience yesterday as a way to deal with my own pain/frustration but to also increase awareness of the situation as well. To put a real and personal face on the matter, so to speak. I created another blog where I try to deal with my "living under reduced circumstances" issues but sometimes there is overlap and I figured I'd go ahead and post about my experiences here.

I went to yet another food pantry recommended to me yesterday and again admitted that I do not qualify for emergency food assistance based on the Federal guidelines. This time, the pantry was far more generous than the last one I visited and provided me with food although I will not be able to become a client. We received more food yesterday than we have had in literally months. When I shop at the store, it is always $20.00 or less because I can't afford to fill my cart or vehicles with gas ($5.00 or $10.00 fill-ups are the norm).

I was told to take as much bread as I wanted - good, decent, fancy bread not the generic stuff. I was led to a table of "cast-offs," items that clients did not want to take and left behind. I was also told I could take whatever was there. I almost cleaned the table off taking every can of vegetable that was there. I got two bags of potatoes and three bags of apples, sweet potatoes, lettuce, watermelon and pineapple, eggs, milk and a huge block of cheese along with meat. I took everything that was offered and it is probably enough to last through the whole month!

Here is where I struggle - I have enough to keep a roof over our heads but not enough to provide good, healthy, adequate food for my kids. People out there are receiving food stamps and able to visit a food pantry like this, twice monthly. No one in our country should have to go hungry. I always believed that the greatest nation in the world would provide for its own but am learning that is not the case.

Receiving this bounty increased my mood and spirits 10-fold along with that of my sons. People have to have food to get out there to look for work, to continue parenting and to simply remain hopeful enough to face the next day. I only see the situation getting worse, not better. I know of people who have been out of work now two years. They are surviving either because their spouse still has a job or they are receiving support of some kind from family.

It is especially difficult for single and only parents struggling on their own with no one to emotionally or physically lean on. It can happen to you. You can be a well-educated, professional, middle-class citizen and have your world topple over and fall on your face. I'm not finding a whole lot of assistance out there or those with kind, helping hands stretched out with compassion. Criticism and blame continue to be lashed out at the unemployed. Having been there now I can add that to simply tell someone to go out and find a job and take whatever is offered is not sound or positive advice. I've made the rounds of fast food places, restaurants (waitress/server), grocery stores and the like and have been told I'm overqualified. Then when I apply for jobs in my field, I am competing with better qualified folks. I'm caught in the middle. A male friend my age, lost his fancy advertising/art director job and was a bartender all summer. He also took training to become a nanny but so far has met with resistance because he is a male and hasn't been hired. I am actually considering the bartender training as a last resort myself.

In the future, I'm going to try and keep issues like this separate on my other blog but felt I needed to finish what I started. This is my experience and my opinions. No one needs to agree or feel sorry for me or my situation. But I do hope it in some way it softens the criticism others may have against people struggling right now, including the two million people worried about feeding their families during the holidays. I've gotten a break this year - others won't be as fortunate.

Think of the Children

I feel compelled to finish this blog with a few more posts that relate to multiple losses and secondary grief losses. I am taking a break from blogging and am not sure where that will lead me. Perhaps I'll return or start a new widowhood blog. But I feel I have to have address these topics one final time in the event that I don't resume posting. These were issues that I wanted to emphasize in this blog and I have had trouble finding much out there about them specifically. I really believe that they are aspects of grief that get short changed or overlooked.

For me, the secondary grief losses, all those losses that came after my husband's death, were far more difficult for me to endure than his actual death. Maybe there needs to be some greater recognition of this in the literature and with grief counseling because I really struggled with the loss of my identity as a wife, the huge financial problems that came afterward, having to parent on my own, managing a household, having to go back to work, etc. I could go on and on with examples but you get the idea. The secondary losses can include loss of your social network, financial security, your home and so on.

I really lacked the skills and ability to some extent to navigate life as a middle-aged, widowed mom. Then there was the terrible loss of expectations/dreams. As parents in mid-life, my husband and I were reaching the point where we saw more opportunities to strengthen our personal relationship. My husband was 10 years older than I and we were contemplating his retirement to coincide with the boys going off to college. The thought and reality of me now having to get these boys through college on my own is so daunting and overwhelming, I sometimes feel like collapsing under the heavy weight that reality brings me.

I suppose it is all relative. Some are fortunate to have families providing moral, emotional and even financial support. For me, the absolute most difficult loss to endure through all of this, has been the realization that I really don't have a family to rely on. My husband was an only child and his out-of-state family has been invisible - not one gift or card for the boys since their father's death from their paternal grandmother or any paternal family member.

The lack of gifts doesn't matter to me. It has been the lack of any kind of familial emotional support. That has what I have really wanted - that is what helps restore and rebuild me. It is what helps prop me up when the going really gets tough.

My mother was my rock. Throughout my husband's illness and death she provided me with restoring words that were such a comfort and motivator. She wasn't perfect - she said a few insensitive things but overall, she was there listening, trying to understand and coming back with compassionate feedback. Just her acknowledgment that there were times it was hard for me, gave me strength. Once she observed, "You have it all resting on your shoulders." That is all she said. She didn't pity me or try to make it all better. She just honestly observed what was and that was very helpful to me. She didn't judge me. Her death in 2007 was a huge and painful loss for me. I greatly miss her and am thankful she was there for me as long as she was.

Other than my mom, I can't think of too many people who've ever said much to me on a positive note. I can think of two examples. A PTA mom who just shook her head after my youngest was going through his medical diagnosis of Long QT Syndrome (heart arrhythmia). She commented that I had had to endure more than anyone should have to experience. Then there was a dad from school who made a point of seeking me out and saying that I had done right by my boys. But there were so many more criticisms and negative comments - they kind of negated the good that resulted when somebody said something nice or encouraging.

I think that people suspect that widows/widowers want some kind of pity party when they talk or bring up their grief. But I know that all I want is some recognition for my life as it is and a little bit of encouragement for my trying to hang in there as best I can. Let me tell you, a little goes a long, long way!

My divorce absolutely devastated me. The best way I can describe it is as though you are getting hit in the knees with a club just as you're trying to stand back up again from a horrendous fall. The loss of my home and moving has been another tough load to bear. They say that experiencing loss makes you stronger and better able to deal with future adversity. But for me having to go through the divorce so soon after my husband's and mom's death was not strengthening. I was already depleted and worn out with grief. I hadn't rebuilt my energy or capability to deal with adversity. So when the divorce came, I was in little and poor shape to face it or cope with it.

Same with the house. I just endured the divorce battle and then had to jump right into selling and moving from my home to an apartment. It was physically and emotionally damaging and almost unbearable to face and get through. Again, a lot of criticism, virtually no support. The feeling of having no one to fall back on or rely on even a little has been the most devastating aspect of my grief. In the end, that is what it has come down to. It must relate to those primal feelings of being an infant and having to totally trust our caregivers. There is terror in the fear of not being card for and not surviving. Personally, for me, having to face the death of my husband, then a divorce and the loss of my home while parenting on my own has been its own terror because I have felt so alone. Sometimes it feels to me that that is how it might feel to die alone. To know that there isn't really anyone out there rooting for you, caring for you or wishing you well.

That has been my biggest cross to bear.

What I hope to convey here is that it is not just the actual loss of a loved one. It can be so much more and there can be numerous additional losses following a death that impact a widow/widower and families that are far reaching and very complicated. It is not a cut and dry situation. With that said, I think it is important that I add that I have come to believe that it really does take a village to raise children. For those of us without significant support networks, it is a challenging job on our own. I just hope these words get transmitted out there into the Universe to do some good here. I just want people to know and remember that withholding support, or being negative and critical to the poor widow/widower ends up filtering down to the kids. In the end, it is the poor father or motherless children that bear the brunt of all of this.

Please think of and remember the kids here. Through no fault of their own they've been dealt a blow and now their main support is an overworked, grieving parent doing their best to navigate an often hostile and less than sympathetic world. Give them a break. And give the parents a break. As I said earlier, a little kindness goes a long way.

Black Friday Survivor

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

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

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

No Guarantees

It was the third wedding anniversary with Husband #2 yesterday and I had a hard time of it throughout the day. Thinking about all that has been lost and what could have been, especially when contrasting it to where we have landed (now living in a lower income apartment complex - and I have to face admitting it - I am borderline poor - my income from cashiering at the big box store is minimal and my pension from my first husband puts us marginally above the poverty line. Until I gain full-time employment, we are poor).

Both husband #1 and #2 made very good incomes and had recession proof jobs. I married each of them with that partly in mind. But let me tell you - nothing guarantees protection from where we have fallen. I thought that after all of the grief and hardship following Husband #1's death that I was immune to more suffering. I remarried three years ago believing I'd been given a second chance at happiness and that it could never be snatched away from me. I was sorely mistaken because here we are.

It will take extreme strength and courage for me to pull myself up from the bottom of this new reality. I did sign up to take that Certified Nursing Assistant training 5-week program which starts 10/26. I am confident that once I complete that I will find full-time work during daytime hours which I need for the boys. Then, I will start honing in on getting back into my field as a mental health counselor. I am in survival mode. Three years ago this was not even a remote possibility in my mind. I was the new wife of a man making a salary of over $100,000. I didn't take this for granted - I was still caught up in all the chaos of caring for my parents and trying to deal with moving my boys. I never even got much of an opportunity to enjoy being a new, remarried wife. The contrast between that old life and this new one is so painful I can't write about it anymore.

Just another loss, another burden of grief to face and somehow tidy up so I can get on with my life and put these sorrowful memories behind me.

Today I am grateful:

1. For washing machines and dryers (even if they are not my own).
2. For fresh smelling laundry detergent.
3. For dryer sheets that reduce static.
4. For being able to wash in hot and cold water.
5. For having enough clothes to wash in the first place.

Eroded Foundation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today I am grateful:

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

Ravaged Heart and Soul

WARNING - READ WITH CAUTION - VERY GLUM, SAD WORDS AHEAD

I have been struggling with the following topic and have debated whether to post on it at all. But after much soul searching I am going to release it from my heart and out to the Universe, where I hope it will somehow come back to me in the form of wisdom and relief. The issue that follows has wounded my heart far more than the death of my husband and the divorce of the second. After all the grief work I have done on my own and with my counselor, what I have finally come to is that I never even had to have these grief experiences to feel the worst pain I could feel - it was already there, buried under all the grief of the past years - waiting to be finally uncovered.

I speak about my family of origin issues. Suffice it to say, my three siblings and I grew up in an abusive, neglectful home and today I am sure we would most likely have been removed and raised by the state. Soon after my husband's death, my parent's health greatly declined (mental and physical) and my local sister, brother and I became involved with their caregiving. I had always been extremely close to my mother and concentrated my care on her. My sister and brother concentrated on my father's needs. When my mom died in August, 2007, the fragile family bonds we had maintained over the years fell apart. I also did not want to pretend anymore that we were close siblings, when we were not.

But all of this greatly breaks my heart because somewhere, somehow while growing up, I developed the strong ideal that a family always watches out, cares for, and defends its own. What my reality was, however, is that is not the case within my family unit. For years I harbored strong grudges against both of my brothers for failing to send a card or flowers when my husband died. I felt it was the very least they could do, having known him for 13 years. After his death, there were no casseroles, offers of help with the house maintenance or playdate suggestions for my two young sons, ages 9 and 10. It would have been nice to have had them over for a weekend to interact with their cousins and give their poor, overwrought mom a break/rest.

As the drama of my divorce and subsequent foreclosure took root, there were again no offers of support. And I guess all I really ever wanted was some measure of emotional caring/compassion. But my brother and sister seemed to side with my ex-husband and defend his position ("He thought he did enough" from my sister, while my brother went on about how difficult it must have been for my ex to take on a readymade family made up of two teen boys).

What has hurt the most is the lack of any minimal emotional support since both sibs have known of the foreclosure. I have never asked for financial help nor do I expect it. But what I do crave is a small amount of emotional kindness and acknowledgment. The last time I saw either of my sibs (the third lives in Hawaii) was at Easter and we discussed the foreclosure. My brother has had no contact with me and my sister briefly talked to me after I initiated her advice before accepting my retail job (and that conversation was stilted and uncomfortable).

About a week ago, I received the following phone message from my brother:

"Hi, Widow in the Middle, it's B. Just giving you a call that dad has another care meeting scheduled for August fourth at 2:30, so it looks like it's a week from tomorrow, 2:30 at [his assisted living facility]. So give me a call if you want me to try to schedule that or something or let them know. The person is _______ at #____________. Thank you. Bye."

No real hello how are you doing. No concern about me or the boys. Just a businesslike message informing me of my duty to attend my father's care plan meeting. I think that what especially bothers me is the lack of care or concern toward my sons. I know if the situations were reversed, I would have made a substantial effort to have remain connected with my nieces/nephews and would have exhibited a strong amount of concern toward their well being after the death of one of their parents.

I have been haunted by this message since it occurred and was unable to talk directly to my brother so emailed him a short, impersonal reply. I am still trying to come to terms with my familial relationships (or more descriptively, the lack of any kind of real relationships). It is especially hard now as I gear down for the house selling and our move into an apartment. My heart is breaking and I feel I do not have the support of anyone (save a handful of friends and my therapist) to rely on. This is where family is supposed to step in and be there as an emotional rock. To have to face the demons in my soul as I clear up my house, lose my status as a homeowner and move to a less desirable area of town to keep my boys at the same school is devastating. I need and want someone to rely on during this stressful crisis (and I can't say I'm even finished grieving my divorce yet either).

The single worst aspect of widowhood for me has been the lack of a partner standing by my side to face the worst that life has had to offer me (the diagnosis of my youngest with a potentially fatal medical condition; the death of my Mom and now this financial nightmare, foreclosure and loss of my home). To go this all alone while parenting and working is a feat deserving of a gold medal in stamina, endurance and strength.

And the most painful aspect of my life thus far has not been the passing of my first husband or the end of my second marriage, but the death of my beliefs and illusions in what I had always hoped to count on when the shit really hit the fan. I am supposing that these current feelings go back to my very young childhood and the painful reality of not being accepted, of being abandoned and neglected. I know it is part of the reason that marriage is such a strong desire of mine - I have a huge need to feel secure and protected.

My heart now seems less burdened having related these feelings. My recovery work is not yet completed. My girlfriend has suggested that I put my family issues on hold and concentrate on my move. That is the plan - I don't think the conflict existing between my sibs is going to go anywhere, anytime soon.

Today I am grateful:

For the good aspects of my current home that I have enjoyed over the years -

1. The way that I can always see the moon from my bedroom windows.
2. That I can hear the church bells from town chime all day.
3. That we lived in a very safe neighborhood.
4. That the boys attended excellent schools.
5. That we had a large, private double lot with lots of trees that was also a curse when it came to mowing and weeding.

Talking til I am blue in the face

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

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

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

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

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