Transitions

A Little Tooth

By Thomas Lux

Your baby grows a tooth, then two,

and four, and five, then she wants some meat

directly from the bone. It's all

over: she'll learn some words, she'll fall

in love with cretins, dolts, a sweet

talker on his way to jail. And you,

your wife, get old, flyblown, and rue

nothing. You did, you loved, your feet

are sore. It's dusk. Your daughter's tall.

My son's poetry teacher handed out this poem on curriculum night and I fell in love with it. But I also laughed out loud reading the title, because I have been having nightmares about losing my teeth and thought a poem about teeth was kind of an eerie coincidence. I told the teacher how much I liked it because it described so succinctly, the passage of time and a child growing up - so appropriate to be handing out to the parents of seniors on their way to graduation and college. Wow! The power of words to convey meaning and emotion. It is why I blog and read as much as I can. And it is why I am trying to "talk" less and listen more.

I am struck by the beauty of poetry as an art form - I've kind of lost sight of that in recent years. How many of us really read much after we are out of school? I am inspired to try and read more poetry and fill my life with more art and beauty.

I love the description here, "flyblown," although the definition means tainted or spoiled. Also, the the words "rue nothing," or having no regrets.

Poems speak to us because we can identify with the words and connect to their meaning. Maybe this poem speaks to me so strongly because of the last two lines. If I change the "you" to "I," I can certainly say that I too, rue nothing and that I did, I loved, and my feet are sore, in fact very, very sore right now.

Curriculum Night

Attended my last high school curriculum night last week. Most parents of seniors don't go and even my son was surprised I was going. But I felt it was only appropriate to do so as it marks the end of a long, enduring journey.

During the night as I toured my son's last semester's classes and met his teachers, I heard over and over how special the high school, community, parents and students are and how honored the teachers and principal feel to be a part of the school. I've been hearing the same thing every curriculum night for the past five years. And indeed, I truly believe as well, that our community and the high school are unusually rare, special and valuable. It is the reason I have stayed in the community - so my sons would be able to remain members of this special place despite their dad's death - and that they would complete their entire pre-college education here.

Attending the night confirmed for me that the decisions I've made to stay here were the right ones for our family. Many years ago, when the boys were just starting school and a few years before my husband became ill, we considered moving to a more rural community. In fact, we were going to bid on two houses but offers had already been made on them. At that point, we made the decision to stay put, despite our longing for the rural life because of the great school system in our community. Just a year later my husband was diagnosed and I remember feeling grateful that we hadn't moved. If we had, I would still be a newcomer in the community and my parents would not have been able to watch my sons when I went to the hospital for months on end. I wound up thinking that fate had intervened and made it impossible for us to get one of the houses we wanted. That we weren't meant to move at that time because of my husband's impending illness.

So staying here was for my sons but it also became kind of a promise to my husband to stay the course and make it for the sake of our sons because it was what we had both determined was the best learning environment for them.

I did it! We all made it! This IS a special community and my sons were privileged to live here through college. I will never regret my efforts to focus on keeping them in this school district. This educational foundation will set the tone and pattern for the rest of their lives.

Over the weekend, I ran into a mom who was once a closer friend. My oldest son was in Kindergarten with her youngest son. Her family even attended my second wedding and the boys had a garage band together in middle school. Her family has moved into a rental after losing their home so we talked a bit about that and I told her about my desire to move. Then I asked her about her son. He is not in college, worked a seasonal job at Target but is not employed now although he has a few band gigs. Her daughter, a few years older, works at a retail store but isn't in college.

Now I know kids bloom at different points and that college is not for everyone. But I called my oldest son immediately after chatting with this woman to tell him that I am proud of him and to thank him for being in college and doing so well. Then I came home and thanked my younger son for doing so well in school and told him I am proud of his plans for college. Perhaps my two sons represent the truest sign that the sacrifices made to remain in this community were worth it.

A lot of times on life's journey, we choose a path and hope for the best. And sometimes we don't get the satisfaction of knowing that a certain course was the best or right one for a long time. It is not to say that had we moved, my sons would have turned out to be delinquents. But after a parental death, there is so much turmoil, and fear of the unknown, it seemed only logical for me to remain in the community for the social and educational stability it offered my sons. Coming to the end of this phase and seeing that the results are so positive make it easier for me to leave this area with a lighter heart and more hope for the future. It is hard to move in the middle of a chapter and that is probably why I have been so resistant to relocate before. But now I truly have reached the end of a book with a very satisfying conclusion to the plot. And I can move on with a clear conscience, my head held up high and pride besides.

My Time

"It's Your Time" the J. Jill catalog stated and the words resonated with me. I am on the eve of a transition from widowed-only-parent-mom to that of an empty-nester-widowed-only-parent-mom. Next year both of my boys will be at college and I'll really be alone in the home except for breaks and summers. At Thanksgiving, someone asked me how I was gearing up for this - it was nice that someone did so, because most people don't consider how this event will impact a widowed mom who hasn't remarried and isn't living with anyone else. And one who has devoted pretty much her entire focus around the boys and their high school educations.

I think with transitions that there is a multitude of feelings churning around. I am happy for the additional time I will be able devote to myself and my own interests (finally) but also scared of the the unknown. A transition period is one that is still being worked and figured out. The time both boys will be gone is still a bit off into the future so I'm still in the "planning" period. As such, there are still plenty of loose ends to plan and prepare for.

My youngest son received his fourth college acceptance so we're now 4 for 5. He doesn't care whether he gets into the fifth college or not, but it would be nice to put another acceptance on the fridge! I took my oldest back to his college on Sunday. I did feel burdened and tired by the responsibility of the long trip - eight hours of driving and in the dark which I don't relish. In the dorm parking lot I was overcome with love and pride watching a father parked next to us hug his son goodbye. Yes, I was alone and tired and still had the trip to make back on my own but there was something "higher" and "bigger" involved in the experience than my own feelings.

Before I left (after a cheap meal at Ponderosa with coupons), I asked my son to give me a demonstration of his piano playing abilities since he just started lessons in August (a requirement as a music major). He took me to the dorm's piano practice room and apologized that he couldn't play on one of the grand pianos in the music building. Then he played two pieces he had composed - one, was a cute little concerto but the second was a melody so profound and moving I sat at the little table behind my son and just wept! I asked him to play it again and then wept some more!

I asked my son to play the piece for his professor but he shrugged his shoulders and said she doesn't have time and pretty much discounted how good I found it. The music was a gift before I left for the long drive home. Somehow I felt there was a message in that melody for me. Despite the hardships of being a poor widow raising these boys on my own, they've both made it to college. One is an outstanding and talented musician and the other a creative graphic designer starting college as an integrated marketing/communications major. They've turned out ok despite everything. And now I've got to believe and hold on hope that this next step will turn out ok too. Gosh, anything will be better financially than it is currently!

I have found transitions tough to face on my own. It WAS easier when I was married handling those blips and bumps in the road. My husband and I discussed life issues and provided one another with emotional support. All of that is lost with widowhood. So this empty-nest transition is different for someone like me vs. a married woman. How I wished I had a driving partner by my side for the four plus hours on the road back. But like that music my son composed and played for me, I have to acknowledge my own feelings but also recognize that there is a greater force that exists beyond my own being. And that, has been very hard to realize for me as a widow. I have found that widowhood has made me focus very much inward and stay there maybe too long. Just another quirk of the widowed life...

This next step will involve becoming less focused inward, and moving toward more outside involvement!

Recreation

Here is a sad photo I snapped waiting in line at the WalMart pharmacy. The senior man in front of me had a Banquet meal and mini frozen pie in his cart. It struck me as very sad seeing that. The other night while watching t.v. with my youngest, I was struck by the reality that next year at this time, both boys will be off at college and I'll really be on my own. It was sobering. I need to get on the horse and start making plans for my future. As everyone always seems to say, it'll be here before I know it. I don't want to not be ready and prepared when my future reality does finally hit.

I heard on the news program that I watch that there will be a permanent group of unemployed individuals who don't go back to work. The reasons for long-term unemployment were discussed. They included the fact that while people are out of work, they lose various skills and get behind with business and technology trends. Also, the longer they are out, they lose business and professional contacts.

I likened these points to widowhood. How long-term widowhood can result in making us rusty around others, how our social contacts become diminished. I am finding it harder to interact socially these days - I have no idea how I'd react on a date, though I suppose it is like getting on a bike, and once you start practicing, you improve. But also, how limited my social sphere has become. I'm applying for grad school right now and struggling as to who to ask to write a reference letter for me. I've been out of touch with some old friends the past year or two. It makes me grateful for the social contact I do have with others while at my restaurant job. Yes, it isn't "professional" but it beats nothing. I also realize why it is important to have connections through church or other clubs or activities. I have chosen to not volunteer anywhere because it would have been hard the past year getting one son off to college and the other out of high school on my own. But having another professional contact for my grad school application would have been good.

It really, really is time for me to pull myself out of the current reality of my life. I can feel it and I can taste it but I'm not quite there yet. My youngest still has to finish senior year and we have to remain here during that time. Until then, I'll start with the grad school application process, which is a bit daunting. But focusing on the process will me keep centered on the future and not so much the past.

I guess when I see images of being alone, like this elderly man's t.v. dinners, I am struck by the hard reality of what it is really like to live alone. To be on one's own raising children and being worn, tired and drained from the process. To create a fuller future life takes tremendous resolve and stamina. We can't just snap our fingers and make it all better. It is another job and I'm already pretty tired. But I don't want to be pushing a cart with only single serving frozen meals in the future. I want to be dining out with co-workers and happily cooking for family and friends. As they sometimes say to women looking for someone to date - "a guy isn't going to fall out of the sky." And likewise, a new, improved, more passionate and rewarding life isn't going to materialize at this point. I have to start moving toward creating it.

Hope Wherever I Can Find It

It was a very emotional Dancing With The Stars week. Each contestant devoted their dance to a meaningful year in their life. Ricki Lake related that she had lost her home to a fire and had reached a point in her life where she felt she would never remarry again. But she said, "Never say never." Because it was during this period of hardship that she did find love again! She told the audience that she was sharing this to give others hope, so they will not give up. All in all, it was a very touching segment and I felt stronger and inspired by Ricki's story.

Had to go to the dreaded local Walmart to pickup a prescription for my son. As usual, the line in the pharmacy is a 45-minute wait. I picked up an all you magazine at the counter and had finished it by the time I finally got my turn. I decided to purchase it because of a couple good recipes in the issue that I'd like to try. And there were some cute Fall crafts. Most importantly, there was a story about a divorced mom of three, around my age, who ended up moving to a small town and downsizing to a 1,300 square foot home - exactly the house size I am aiming for! I liked what what the woman had to say about downsizing and frugal living and again reading the story inspired me and gave me strength.

I will get through the next school year while my son finishes his senior high school year. I will move to a small town community and will be living there next year at this time! I will go back to school to get back into a social services career. And love will be a part of my future!

Strength and Reslove

Tonight was the last Fall Curriculum Night I'll have to attend on my own. Mixed feelings but far more positive than negative. I really needed a shot of motivation to help me get through this next year because in a way, I've already checked out. But hearing my son's teachers praise the students and talk about how much they love teaching inspired me to put my nose to the grindstone and just get through this next year. I owe it to my son. I know it is hard for those outside our community to understand how special the boys' high school is but it is the ONE reason I've remained in this town.

Over and over tonight, I heard the teachers state how wonderful their school is, and the principal always mentions this every time she addresses the parents. The teachers all spoke of how fortunate they are to be able to teach at the school, and to have such top notch students and involved parents.

After getting my oldest off to college, I was feeling somewhat down and dreading having to get through one more year in this town. I am so ready to leave and move to a more affordable and rural location. Finances are very precarious for us right now and I am so very, very tired of struggling to barely make ends meet. That aspect of my life is just exhausting. But I have to keep my eyes and focus on the bigger picture. When all is said and done, later in my life, I hope the financial struggles will be a faint memory but that the memory of my sons attending and graduating from such a fine high school will be one of which I am most proud. Proud that I stuck out hardship to give my sons a solid education leading to college. Proud that they flourished and were popular students, especially after the losses in their lives. This school has been a beacon of stability and strength in our lives when that has been so lacking otherwise.

I have no doubt that the next months will be tough on my bank account and nerves. When times get really low I need to remember tonight. And the pride I felt for our little family, making it through hardship and focusing on quality education. My finances WILL eventually improve. What I've given my sons has been priceless and worth it.

My son's science teacher warned the parents (all of senior students) that the kids can't check out yet. College applications haven't been submitted - it isn't safe to slack off now. I thought that some of us parents are feeling the same way as our seniors right now so maybe my son and I can both motivate each other throughout this final year.

One teacher commented that life goes by so quickly. Senior year will be gone in a blink of an eye and to remind our students to enjoy this final year. In some ways I fear the year will go too slowly since we are struggling financially. I do hope it will be a fast year. As hard as it may get, I have to remember to enjoy these final seasons in a town I once so loved. But gosh, I am so ready to be out of here!!!

I was far less focused on being by myself tonight and tried not to look at all all the couples surrounding me. One mother asked a teacher if her kid could get extra credit since both she and her husband were attending. Lucky kid, I thought to myself to have both parents but a pretty stupid request from a silly woman. Then I thought that extra credit should be given to every kid at the school who had an only parent attend. Wish I had had the nerve to make my request like silly, married woman did.

Harvest Time

I passed these bursting berries on a tree and thought that they were a good representation of my sons being launched off into the world. Here it is harvest time and all of nature's bounty is ready to be harvested after the growing season and nourishment of Mother Earth. I guess I see myself as this tree, caring for and helping these berries grow until they reach their potential. The tree has done its job, as have I. One boy is off to college, the other leaving in a year for his college years.

As an only parent, mothering two fatherless sons for almost 10 years now (counting the two my husband was mostly hospitalized), I know that I have pretty much devoted my entire being and focus to raising these young men. It has really taken a lot out of me. Would I do it all over again? Without a doubt but I know first hand the challenges and hardships facing only parents and how much better a situation it is for all involved when two parents are actively raising a family vs. only one.

I am somewhat at odds with my life at this point. Realizing now for the first time how much I need to create a new life for myself because once this year is over, my primary job and focus will no longer exist as I have known and lived it for a decade. I have no hubby to distract me or plan trips with or retire with - I have no career to fall back on. My sons have been my everything and now I'm about to set them free into their first years of young adulthood.

What I am saying is that I need to get a life for myself pretty darn quick! I have a year. I am sure people could point out that the world is my oyster right now and I can dream to accomplish anything. But I don't think it is so easy sometimes. I'm very tired and drained from the past 10 years; I don't have a hubby to support my efforts to go back to school, move or get updated job training. My circle of friends has diminished to a very small circle indeed so at this point the world seems very immense and the oyster seems very, very minute in comparison.