Defined by Widowhood

Tomorrow I will pick up my oldest from college for Thanksgiving break. He is scheduled to work the entire week starting Sat. a.m. and will only have Thanksgiving Day off. He has done very well away at school so far. And he calls or texts me before every test he takes, then follows up with his grade. He has also sought my advice about classes to take next term, and dropping the business frat he joined. I'm not sure he and I would be as close as we are if his father was still alive. I do believe my sons and I share a very close familial relationship based on the fact that the boys were so young when their dad became sick.

My youngest son has just been accepted into his #1 college choice, the one I attended for my undergraduate years. So he received three acceptances out of five applications submitted but at this point the other two don't matter. I am so happy and pleased for him. Excited too! A bit sad that his dad isn't here to share in the news. I had to tell someone, and texted my sister and brother, since their kids are actively involved in the college search right now. But sharing with them just wasn't the same.

Our lives have been defined by widowhood. Even years after, I feel a pang at what has been lost. My sons and I have different relationships than what might have been if they'd had a dad to confide in. To say we have not been defined or influenced by my husband's death would not be true. We became different people, all of us because of our lives changing when my husband died.

Sometimes I have come across widows strongly exclaiming that they would not be defined by their widowhood. I think they mean that they don't want to be held down by widowhood, that they want to rise above it. But I don't think it is accurate to say that they aren't defined by widowhood. Because we end up being defined by all our experiences, and widowhood has a major impact, no doubt about that.

Tonight a blogger from the UK who first inspired me to start blogging posted an update after a year's absence. She said that she is considering starting a new blog because her one on widowhood doesn't seem to represent her life right now. I, too, have been contemplating the same thing. I'd like to keep blogging because I enjoy it and it allows me to gain perspective and clarity. But I don't feel the need to focus so much on widowhood anymore. I'd much rather be focusing on my new and future life, and where I'm headed. Here I have one son successfully having started college and another on the verge of starting his own college career. And I will be moving soon and hopefully starting a new degree/career in social work. I am a widow in transition. I am still a widow. But I really want to place more emphasis on what I'm becoming besides being a widow. And maybe that is what those other widows meant when they determined that they didn't want to be defined by widowhood.

Father's Day

I never had any observations for my late husband after the funeral and memorial service. The immediate years following his death resulted in my caring for my youngest who'd been diagnosed with a heart condition and then my parents. There wasn't much time or energy to think, reflect or honor our past. We were all just so tied in with the current chaos.

Now that has all ebbed and so today there was some time for reflection while we were at our baseball game - the boys play in a summer league with the same team they've been on since their dad died. I will admit that there was a small pang seeing all the kids with their fathers and to be sitting on the bleachers without a hubby by my side. After the game, the boys and I went to Red Lobster for that 4-course $15.00 meal special. A splurge I know, but I felt like going out and wanted to experience the special before it ended.

I asked my sons how they felt today, what it is like to be a fatherless kid on Father's Day on the way to the restaurant. At one point, I mentioned how I have always hated hearing that pat phrase that kids are so resilient. What does that really mean anyway? I find it interesting that those who relate that statement to me are people who haven't experienced a major loss in their lives. I have come to believe that if they had, they wouldn't be spitting out this phrase to me. Because it means nothing. It doesn't take away the fact that my kids grew up without a father for most of their lives (he was sick for three years before his death).

Losing a father is a major loss and it should be respectfully acknowledged as such, not brushed away by the belief that kids will survive and go on. Yes, they will but their childhoods do influence their futures. Instead of being told that kids are resilient I would have rather heard some statement validating our reality - something along the lines of: "Your kids suffered a tough blow and it is too bad." Don't try to gloss over their situation and make it better by spewing out these statments we have come to believe as being true without having the personal experience to verify them as such.

My youngest son replied, "People are so naive. They have no idea." It got to the point that when people would say things to me like, "There are lots of widows out there funcitioning just fine" and so on, that I would hotly reply, "Oh, really? How many widows my age do you personally know?" Then when they would admit "None" I would just look at them - enough said.

Summer Replay

This morning I clicked on a document for the heck of it wondering what it was. I was intrigued by the title. Turns out they were the words to a new song my oldest is composing. As I read, I was overtaken by weeping. The song is about the seven year anniversary of his Dad's death. Very heartfelt, beautiful words. On their own, even without music they are amazing.

My son, in addition to being a fine singer, guitar, drum and sax player also composes his own music. I have hesitated posting any of his lyrics here even though I have been tempted on numerous occasions. Most of his songs deal with overcoming adversity and becoming a better/stronger man. The love songs he writes are odes to supporting his love and being there for them, not deserting them but standing by. The first song he ever composed was back in middle school and was about his Dad. It is a very touching, surprisingly mature piece that was one of his garage band's main lineup. Now he is a solo performer with a voice along the lines of John Mayer. I have felt his lyrics to be so good, I have worried about someone taking them. I think they're that good and I'm trying not to overly inflate his skills because I'm his mom.

Anyway, my son won a local talent contest this summer. He had wanted to go to Milwaukee to try out for American Idol but the local contest was at the exact same time and I felt in my heart that my son, although very good, is only 17 and would be competing against artists in their 20s. He lacks their experience and maturity. So I pushed for him competing in the local contest, which he won. He performed an original piece and blew the judges away. One of the comments underlined three times was "You are very talented!" along with similar phrases. The fact that the song he composed and performed was so good was what got him the most praise. He has a great voice, excellent stage presence, is nice looking but boy can he write.

So now he is on to the next stage of the contest which is state-wide, held in Springfield in the winter. We'll see what comes of it. It means more exposure for him. At this point, he has enough original material for an entire CD of his own. Maybe for the heck of it we'll go ahead and get him on YouTube like all these other young singers. In my opinion, what sets him apart is that not only can he sing cover songs, but he writes his own material. Songs that have real meaning and can inspire people to do good things, live better lives, be more appreciative of what they now have. I just called my son who got out early from school to ask about this song. I asked him if he writes the music or words first. He told me the music first. I then asked him how long it took him to come up with the lyrics - only three days (and not much time on them that I can tell because he only works on them in his little spare time after school, football, seeing his girlfriend and homework. Wow!).

So the talent contest win was a nice aspect of the summer. Along with that there was football camp which is the entire summer for us, not just a week or two in August. Both boys played well on a summer baseball league, but my oldest was often absent for football and it was the youngest who made every game (the only one of the team of 16 players to do so) and he shone with his athletic skills. My youngest decided to quit football midway through the summer declaring that his heart just isn't in contact sports and he refuses to participate in a sport that isn't fun or meaningful for him any longer. I was proud of his decision which he spent a great deal of contemplation over.

My oldest participated in a volleyball camp and did work as an ump for the local little league until his sports schedule was too hectic. My youngest took a crazy condensed three-week driver's ed class and was one of the few who passed at the end, driving well enough to earn his license through the class so now after the nine-month waiting period he can just get his license instead of having to go to the DMV and take the driving test. I was so proud of him because I didn't have a lot of time or the gas money to let him practice much besides his drive time in the class.

As for me, I worked the entire summer consolidating and moving three storage sheds at three different locations into one location. It was grueling and a hellish job and mostly accomplished by myself because the boys were at school much of the time. I still need to go through stuff and get rid of things but at least I now have better access since this is an indoor facility, whereas before, I wasn't able to get to the sheds in the winter months.

So, all in all, a pretty full and rewarding summer. I try to focus on this when I debate whether we should have moved in with Sam or stayed here for the remaining years of high school. Now, with school newly started I am proud of my oldest playing football and he just made the Show Choir. He wanted to add a vocal group to his experience for his college applications and was sought out to join by the teacher adviser. She told him he was the best male singer in the group and would be given a solo. My youngest is performing in the Powder Puff Football male dance team like my oldest did last year and it was just hilarious! I'm glad he is doing it because he is less outgoing and a bit on the shy side compared to his older brother. He has also joined the Key Club, which I'm not exactly sure about what they do, but he says it is good for his experience. Both boys want more than just sports as their high school activities. My youngest also got a job on the weekends as part of a set-up crew for local fairs in the area.

They are great boys and I have to focus on that and them during these tough times. The decisions I've made have been with their best interests at heart and I can't lose sight of that and must keep in my mind the bigger picture.

Real Survival Mode

In the past, when my husband was alive, baseball was the most important part of our lives. He and I coached our sons on two teams together. When we were out at a game, I'd look around with joy and happiness. My family was with me, my husband and I involved and active parents - our boys athletic and talented. There was always a game, usually a double-header or a tournament on Father's Day. And afterward, we'd stop at an inexpensive restaurant for dinner and the staff would ask the boys how they'd done. Usually, they'd proudly admit that the game had been won. But those days and feelings are in the past.

Today, my oldest was off at 6:30 a.m. for a volleyball tournament. While the youngest and I got ready to go to their baseball game, I realized that the oldest had driven off with all the baseball equipment in the van. There were a few panicked moments while we all clamored to figure out what to do. I would have driven out of my way to another town to get the baseball bag but my son was allowed to leave the volleyball tournament early since there was an excess of players.

So I got to see both the boys play baseball for the first time this year. My youngest is a stronger player and hit an outstanding triple that would have been a home run had there been a fence. He also had a pretty incredible double play while manning third, which got guys out at second and first. And made an amazing catch while in the left outfield. My oldest caught for much of the game and as I watched him jog out into the field could not stop thinking of how good looking and mature he is. Kind of a golden boy I thought as I saw him grin and make small talk with the coaches, players and umps.

I hoped my husband saw the game from above or maybe he was out on the field next to the boys. Maybe he ran with them as they headed for their bases. Maybe he leaped up beside my youngest when he made that great catch in left. I want to believe that he knows what fine young men his sons are despite the hardship they've faced.

We all bickered during the drive to the game. I took my little sedan to help save gas because the van seems to eat through it. I told the boys how tight we are until payday, the 29th for the nursing home check and the first for the pension. I recently had to pay over slightly over a $100.00 for the second payment due for the van's vehicle insurance and along with the end of the year school fees we are now flat broke. My oldest just kept telling me it is all my fault. The youngest chimed in from the back that is both our faults. I should not have allowed the oldest to play volleyball if we can't afford it and the oldest shouldn't pester me to give in. I didn't say anything to the oldest when he accused me of being at fault. What can I say? It is what it is. The bills caught up with me and overwhelmed me this month. The past few months there was too much due, the unexpected car repairs needed, the driver's ed fee owed for the youngest.

I was glad we all went to the game because afterward, the boys were worn out and pleased they had played so well. And I was a little more relaxed. I did my best to focus on the game and to try and not worry about finances. But I don't know how we're going to make it over a week without any money for food and gas. This is the lowest we've ever gone. Always before it has been tight but never this tight and for so long before pay day. I am scared out of my wits. I didn't like bickering with the boys in the car on the way to the game, but when you're facing financial stress as we are, the worry and upset has to come out in some way. I also don't like having to discuss financial matters with the boys but they are involved and I suppose they are old enough to know what is going on. I can't hide the fact that we are struggling as much as we are right now. Even with working, I couldn't make it this month.

I sat on the stands and listened to the inane conversation of the other moms - moms that no longer include me. Not that I care, really. We don't share much in common anymore. I listened to the one motor mouth mom talk about her trip this week to Disney in Florida with her parents and sister. Her sister is treating her, and her 14-year-old daughter to this vacation. She also blabbed about having just gotten a pedicure for her dog. So far this summer, no pedicure for me. And that means times are pretty tough because I usually get a pedicure no matter what for the summer. All married moms and I looked at their average, balding, husbands, some with pot bellies and felt those familiar waves of envy and sorrow at what my life has become. These women haven't experienced even a fraction of the hardship we've faced. And to have to be sitting on the same bleachers with them and listen to their petty concerns is almost too much to bear at times. I'll have to see if I can sit at a distance from them so I don't have to listen to their drivel the next time.

Then, a mom came up and the conversation shifted to the storms we've had the past few days. Some people in the area lost power for a day, as had this mom. She talked about having to clear out her freezer and made the comment, "You just go into survival mode at a time like that." I was incredulous. "Survival mode?" She was describing a relatively minor power outage as having to go into survival mode? She with her strong, gainfully employed husband safely at work bringing in a decent paycheck so she doesn't have to go out to work outside the home. She who has a lovely, historic home to reside in. I was tempted to tell her and the other moms what going into survival mode really is. It is what I will be facing the next week without enough money for gas or food for my sons. Already we are so sick of peanut butter and mac & cheese. I have no idea how I will figure out how to get gas for the week. I already talked to the boys about their needing to get rides from friends. That ladies, is what the real survival mode is for some of us. Those you pretend not to notice sitting next to you in the stands. I figure that $30.00 is probably what it would take to get through the week - enough money for gas and a few food essentials. Just $30.00! Not a great amount when you think about it. But here's a widowed mom who can't even scrape that up.

To survive the next week will be a true testament of my creativity and resilience. That is the real survival mode. Not the example given by this taken care of middle-aged mom, whom I'm sure has over $30.00 in her checking account and/or family and friends to come to her assistance if she needed it. Some of us believe it or not don't have $30.00 to our name or the means in which to get it even to feed our children.

A sad and bittersweet Father's Day as all these days during this period seem to be. As I sat watching the boys I was certainly sad to reflect on how low we have fallen since the death of the boy's Dad and my husband. I would say today is the lowest point in my six and a half years of widowhood. But at the same time, there was happiness and joy as I watched the boys play together.

To Hell and Back

I felt such a connection to the widowed mom, Deb, portrayed in last night's episode of "Losing It With Jillian." She is in my age group (54), with two kids (a boy and girl, 10 and 12), and her husband has been gone almost six years. At the start of the show she tearfully moans that she is so tired (exhausted really), has nothing left to give (especially to herself), always has to do everything by herself, and feels so alone - all aspects that I cover on a regular basis in this blog. To hear another widowed mom say and relate those same powerful laments reduced my isolation and discontent for a brief period. I didn't feel so alone or so crazy or weak or like I'm a constant complainer. I'm a tired widowed mom struggling to make ends meet just like Deb. I'm not the only one. There is another widowed mom out there who leaves her dishes in the sink too!

There were some differences in our stories. Deb's kids are younger than mine and were only four and six when their dad died compared to my sons being nine and ten. She has a daughter whom she has relied on to fill some of the emotional void. Part of the show dealt with easing this burden off the daughter. I thought about how I have gone the other way in trying to protect my sons' childhoods as much as possible to the extent that I take on too much and just can't do it all by myself. I figure the widowed are doomed no matter what we do. We'll be criticized if we ask the kids to pick up the slack and then we're criticized when we try to let them still be kids. It ends up all being a balance. The kids do need to step up to the plate more than kids living in a two-parent home. Simply based on what has happened to the family - the dad/husband has died. I've tried to protect my sons from having to face more pain. But it has come at a huge cost to me. So in the days ahead I'll work on demanding more of a family input from the guys.

When I worked as a counselor or in social services, I was extremely kind, gentle and empathic. I have always believed that you get more from honey than vinegar. I cringed when viewing Jillian's boot camp tactics. Both last night's and last week's families are dealing with grief issues in their pasts. I say lets tone it down some for people already in deep pain. But that's my opinion. I'd also recommend some therapy or counseling for these families. It is good to change from the outside in, but to change from the inside out doesn't just happen on its own. You have to work at it.

Deb's house was very cluttered with piles of stuff. In fact, I know someone with a bedroom that looks very similar to the one Deb was living in. Although I don't have the piles in our living area, I do have storage sheds filled to the brim. It looks like next week's episode is going to deal with that issue - and again, in the promo, the featured mom says she doesn't want to part with her stuff because she has already lost too much. There it is again - that word - LOSS.

I continue to hope that people watching last night's show felt empathy, compassion and gained some understanding about widowhood. It appears there is an underlying theme connecting these families - loss. Maybe there will be a greater comprehension for the havoc loss can play in our lives. I learned something about myself last night and I felt less alone. That's a pretty good combination.

Jillian told the Deb that she'd been to hell and back already. Now she needs to go on/move forward. While I understand what Jillian meant, I also felt she was just giving lip service. For some of us the hell doesn't cease. Financial worries, working, loneliness are mainstays of my life and Deb's. There was no mention of Deb having a love life and the family even admitted not engaging in many fun activities together as a family. I can totally relate to that. So I saw a bit of that can do, get over it attitude depicted. I'll counter that it's not that easy to just turn your collapsed life around. I think some viewers last night may have had the belief that Deb hadn't tired hard enough, or she'd let herself go. So not true!

Deb - My heart goes out to you as another mom who has walked in your shoes. I get you and I appreciate you. Your courage and strength inspire me to get up off the couch and try and improve my life too. If you can do it so can I!

There is no magic wand for widowed moms unless maybe we win the lottery and even that wouldn't be a total cure. Life is still hard and grueling. Deb losing 32 pounds doesn't take away the pain of not having her beloved husband here to be there for her and the kids. But it makes her physically healthier to face the road ahead. Thanks for sharing your story, Deb. You are amazing.

Teaching the Untouched

I saw the promo ads for the new series "Losing it With Jillian," a knock off of "The Biggest Loser." I've never watched The Biggest Loser but the ads for the new show caught my attention. Jillian goes to the homes of overweight families and moves in with them for a week. She helps them "restore" their unbalanced lives with healthy meals and menu planning, exercise and so on. In the ads, there appeared to be a family coping with the loss of the dad/husband. So I made a note of when the show started.

Tuesday's show did not depict this family but I was still glad I caught the episode. This was a working class family from the East, around Boston I believe. The daughter and dad had already gone through gastric bypass surgery with the daughter successfully keeping the weight off but not so for the dad. The mom was also overweight and the son interested in shaping up, although not as overweight as his parents. The daughter was getting married and the family all made 6-week goals for the wedding.

Having never seen The Biggest Loser, I wasn't prepared for the drill-like, boot camp tactics of Jillian. But even more surprising was the big family secret that came out in the hour. I was really impressed with this family and just fell in love with them because of the great family love and loyalty they shared with one another. It turns out that the first child born of this couple, a son, died only a month after birth. This became a taboo topic between the family but it was clear how the events of some 22 prior years had been literally destroying them.

The unresolved and unspoken grief that persisted over the years was evident and could be detected in the relationships the family members shared with one another as well as their overall family dynamic. There was some initial healing with the simple acknowledgment of the underlying pain. The family went on to make great strides in their overall fitness plans with the dad losing almost 50 pounds and the mom 30 within that short 6-week period. The wedding was absolutely beautiful and a fitting beginning for a new life for all of these truly lovely and courageous individuals.

I am curious what will be exposed on Tuesday's upcoming episode with the widowed mom. It appears that she is holding on to old belongings which I also struggle with (two storage sheds of my husband's and parent's old belongings). I am hoping to be inspired to break with the past and move onward into the future.

But more importantly, I hope one of the benefits of airing last week's show was that it helped those unaffected by grief to gain a little glimpse into the havoc and pain resulting from losses, even years following their occurrence. This family was very brave and did far more than become healthier themselves - they helped educate, they faced their albatross and hopefully inspired others to do the same, and they promoted sympathy toward those stuck by grief. The ramifications of their strength and courage pour out into the Universe.

Discount Shoes and Discounted Groceries

Yesterday was pay day - both with the pension check and my pay from the nursing home. My youngest asked for a new pair of shoes for the summer. He had seen a pair of canvas slip-ons for $20.00 at Payless when he was out with friends. I took him there after school. They had a buy-one-get-one-half-off sale and I suggested he also pick out a pair of sandals and he did (cost us another $10.00).

I felt so sad and yet strangely happy at the same time during the shoe store excursion. Sad that my son is only getting a $20.00 pair of shoes, from a discount shoe store no less. But then happy that he was so grateful and pleased with the shoes and that he got a bonus pair besides.

After our shopping (which with boys is pretty much in and out quickly), I dropped him off and went to the store for something for dinner. My oldest complained when I told him we were having turkey hot dogs. He said he'd eaten hot dogs all weekend, whenever he'd gone to one of his friend's houses - all the dads were grilling!

So, I hit the store I frequent to see if there was anything on sale that I could prepare as an alternative. As I've mentioned in other posts, this store sells meat and dairy products for half price when they are at the expiration code. Yesterday, they had some gourmet skillet meals (chicken and pasta) for just $3.00 and I picked up two for the boys because they looked especially hungry. They were excited having just gotten their practice football equipment for summer camp.

I came home and made the pasta along with bagged salad (99 cents from ALDI) and while I was cooking gave the boys French bread with artichoke/cheese spread. It was such a nice meal and I felt proud of myself for being able to feed the boys until they were full and do it on such a limited budget.

The boys wanted to watch "America's Got Talent," which we have never followed. While they were watching I served them strawberry shortcake, the ingredients I'd picked up to have over the holiday weekend. But I never made it because the boys were never home - busy with friends, marching in the parade, plus I worked this weekend. Just seeing the boys scarf down their meals with appreciation meant a lot to me. To give them a little extra with the bread and spread, to have dessert.

I felt good as a mom - that despite the financial hardships, there are glimmers of hope in a new pair of inexpensive shoes and a filling meal. I don't often feel this way, like I'm doing an adequate job since we always seem so lacking. But I did feel a sense of pride in my abilities to stretch out a dollar and again am reminded of how in the end, happiness doesn't come from the amount that is spent. I was able to provide for the boys beyond the mere basics - stomachs and hearts were content as we watched t.v. together as a family.

Life Lessons

I was recently asked the question of what I had learned from my parents as a life lesson or lessons and was upset that I could not really come up with anything specific. So I decided to ask my sons what they had learned from me and this is how they responded.

My youngest first said that he had learned from me by example, not so much by anything I told him. He related that I had taught him about perseverance and to never give up.

My oldest first replied that I had taught him to never talk to strangers. But when I asked him to go a little deeper his response was that I had taught him to never put down or judge others.

I felt some peace of mind with these answers because they are lessons I am proud to have given my boys, despite the life circumstances that resulted in them being taught.

Crying

I attended a home volleyball game last night. When the varsity team comes out, they do so to the beat and noise of a current hit song and take a lap around the gym. Seeing my tall, handsome son jog around the gym resulted in my crying openly in the stands where I was as usual, sitting by myself. In the past, I've cried during athletic events because of the sadness I felt that the boys' Dad wasn't there to proudly see them. Last night, the tears were of honor and pride for myself and my son.

The numerous hardship and pain over the past years hasn't totally ruined us. Despite it all my sons have had their moments of success and I hope some happiness in there too. If I hadn't moved back for second semester, my son wouldn't have been playing volleyball at all since it is not a male sport in the state where Sam moved. Nor would he have won "The Mr. (High School)" contest and been crowned king of the school in February.

There has been no dad or even remotely consistent male figure in my sons' lives to guide and encourage them so the credit for what they have accomplished very much rests on their shoulders. I must admit that some of the time over the past years I have been preoccupied and not 100% available to them because of the fires I've been putting out - either caring for my parents, getting remarried or divorced, been in a depressed stupor because of the divorce (thankfully that only lasted a few weeks) or selling the house and moving.

These days I don't often think of my deceased husband. Too much has happened between his death and the present. He is no longer much on my mind, hence the tears for my son and I last night - our sacrifices, our strength, our pride. The credit is all ours. My husband's influence on us all and our current lives is waning and diminished.

Last week, I cried when my son jogged out for his opening game. Then there were tears when his name was announced for the starting lineup. The team members not playing form a huddle and line around the starters, then whop and cheer as they run out onto the court. Because I was aware of the setup, I was a bit surprised that I cried again last night - I was aware what was coming.

Last week, too, I had a couple more incidents of crying. I went to another game and while reading before it began, started tearing up when my book went into a description of a couple reconciling after a breakup. I started thinking about how the people in my life seem incapable of working out "glitches," wanting to end or damage relationships because of their inability to face conflict. Part of me said, "Why can't I be involved with a man willing to hang in there until the rough patch has passed?" "Or have a family willing to talk about issues instead of pretending they don't exist which ends up being very harmful to many degrees?" This has been one of the most profound lessons I've learned from my husband's death - to not give up, to be willing to work on relationships because they are worth it, and to concentrate on what is truly meaningful and worthy and forget about the trivial stuff.

Then, one day driving home from work, I just burst into tears and had a good cry the 30-minute drive home, although I'm not sure if there was any specific reason to prompt my tears. Just the stress of everything both past and present. I let the tears flow.

Tonight is another home game and I want to attend. I'm not sure my son will be playing but it is worth my going just to see his jog around the gym and his warm-up practice. My son is one of the few Juniors with actual playing time. There are some parents who've only seen their boys practice - another pat on the back for my son. And when he has asked me later at home, "Mom, did you see that play I made...?" I am grateful that I can honestly tell him, "Yes." And that I can tell him how proud I am at how well he has played and conducted himself, which I did yesterday when he came over to me after the game.

His Dad would be very proud of the fine, young talented man he has become and is continuing to mature into.

Easter 2010

I had a bit of a downer this Easter. It seems with every "holiday" or special occasion that I feel in a funk. Maybe it was prompted by all the t.v. ads showing intact families frolicking around on hillsides covered with blooming spring flowers. Or the ones showing families out on shopping excursions buying their Easter outfits or racing around searching for hidden eggs. Anyway, I experienced those feelings of loss that come upon me during these times. Feeling incomplete and lonely. Feeling that our little family of three is lacking because of the huge hole that exists with our husband/dad no longer here to fill it and make us the family we once were.

These family portrayals on t.v. and in print advertisements depict the ideal or image of what a family unit is. With 50% of marriages ending in divorce there are many other versions of families out there - it would be nice to sometimes see these real families in ads. And part of me is angry for buying into this fantasy. For feeling bad because my family isn't the "ideal," whatever that is anyway. But I guess that is the whole point of advertising. It makes us want that ideal we don't have. But in my case, I could care less about the pretty shoes or clothes - I want the man and life we all once had - when we could have been that cute family holding hands and skipping down the street in our new spring outfits.

I used to go all out for the boys BW (Before Widowhood). They always received huge baskets filled with toys in addition to candy. This year I picked up a token acknowledgment of the day - they each got a package of Reese's Eggs, a crispy rice chocolate bunny and a cookies & cream bunny - grand total of about $3.50!

Again as with Valentine's Day, when I was out and about, all my eyes seemed to pick up on was families with both parents and kids together or couples. Funny how that seems to happen.

I surely did not expect to get hit with this on Easter. This is a celebration that has other meanings both religious and then spring renewal and all. But I guess underneath those major themes is that of getting together and celebrating as family be it with an egg hunt, church service or brunch out.

As with Valentine's Day, I am finding that once the day passed, my mood improved and I felt less pressure surrounding my heart and soul. We survived it for another year at least.

I do wish these days were not so painful. Everyday has its challenges for us. Everyday a sense of loss is present. But on major holidays/celebrations the ghosts that haunt us seem to be more intense. Which is really kind of a slap in the face because to some extent these events exist in our culture to serve as days to lift our spirits and give us breaks from the tedium of our lives.

A Day in the Life

Spent most of the late morning and early afternoon at H & R Block. I had to run home for the boys' social security numbers and that added 30 minutes (my error - I should have thought to have them on me). The first draft had me owing around $700.00. But redoing the numbers with another exemption brought it down to owing nothing, thank goodness, the first time since my husband's death that I am not paying the IRS in April! H & R Blocked charged me $349.00, I thought it would be less. I delayed paying them and having the taxes transmitted because the due date is still a month off. I'll wait until I receive my first paycheck next week - it will only be for a couple hundred dollars but right now I am fearful of running my small checking account balance down and overdrafting. I would rather be safe than sorry. At least I know that the damage isn't going to involve owing the IRS money that I don't have. That is a blessing.

The cold/flu thing I have is still with me concentrated in my sinus area and chest. I have to cough and my voice is hoarse. But I am better, on the mend I would say.

I made the boys go to the free dental clinic they had at the school, which is available to all students regardless of income. The first thing my youngest said when I picked him up from track was "I am never going to that dental clinic again." He disclosed that he was the only non-minority of the 10 kids there. He also said that he does not think my oldest went and will blow it off. The boys have not seen their dentist since last April so I thought it would be a good idea for them to go. It was at the school and I talked with the nurse about the boys being embarrassed. We'd arranged that they would see her for passes so they wouldn't have to be called out of their classes. I just figured it was worth getting done because it was free and would avoid me having to take them in the future and wait for future appointments, etc.

My son's comments upset me - I feel for him. Luckily, he does not need any work done (he got a cleaning). We are the family that had to move to the other side of the tracks. This can't have been easy for my boys. If they rode the bus to school, they would be the only non-minority kids riding. I'm not sure how to process that. Does it make our situation worse to now live in a community where we have become the minority? I have no problems or complaints about our neighbors but I do understand my sons' wariness about riding the bus. They want to avoid trouble and I suppose also want to avoid feeling embarrassed. I feel kind of crappy that I forced my sons (at least one) to go to the dental clinic. I thought it made sense, was worth it and helpful to me besides. Anyway, at least I don't have to worry about getting one of them to the dentist now. I wish I could have gone - you can bet I would have taken advantage of a free cleaning as it has been almost a year for me too.

What I keep being reminded of is that my boys have been deeply touched by my husband's death. In some good ways and in some bad. I continue to feel hurt for them that so few people have ever really stopped to think about how this experience has impacted them. That old cliche "Kids are resilient" doesn't stand muster with me. I have come to believe that kids can be very wounded too. They don't bounce back as easily as we may want to believe.

I needed to stop to pick up something for dinner when I got my youngest. He complained that he did not want to wait for me to even run into the store quickly, agreeing to eat a BLT sandwich tonight with soup since I have those items on hand. I still needed to run into the store for two small tomatoes and to get money for the laundry card. Then I had to fill my little sedan up with some gas. The mileage is great - $20.00 fills the tank and lasts a month!

My son then got annoyed with me and I had to listen to his complaints about my not having signed him up for driver's ed yet - he is 15. He was supposed to register for it at school but did not. Now it will cost me $400.00 or so to get him signed up at a local driving school. While he badgered me with the fact that I love my older son more, I was frantically thinking about the H & R Block bill due, the 4 tires I need to replace on the car, the auto insurance due in mid-April and the fact that I still need to come up with the remaining $400.00 owed my bankruptcy attorney. I was getting irritated at my son, short and snippy but at the same time felt sorry for him because he went to the dental clinic so I didn't want to bash him. But still...

We get home and I realize I have forgotten to pick up bath tissue yet again from the store. I run back out to put $10.00 on the laundry card so I can wash towels tonight, of which there have not been any clean ones in the past few days. The boys go through them like no tomorrow and I am considering hiding them and rationing them out. It is too expensive to be washing as many loads of laundry that I do weekly now and the machines here do not wash or dry particularly well. And I hate having to drag everything down to the laundry room - it is so dirty in there. I really do miss the huge, extra large capacity washer and dryer I had when I lived in my home.

So there is my day and I am tired. I am not sure if it is because I am still recovering from the flu/cold thing I had, or getting the taxes was emotionally draining or the prospect of doing laundry depresses me. But I feel drawn out and not looking forward to fixing even the simple BLT sandwiches on the menu.

I am grateful:

1. The taxes were done - not the most pleasant job to get done.
2. That I do not owe any taxes.
3. That my youngest (at least one out of the two) doesn't need any future dental work.
4. I am feeling a bit better, slowly but surely.
5. There is food for dinner, gas for the cars, electricity for the appliances.

Only Parent Curse

My husband was an only child as was his father and even his grandfather! My father's sibling was a brother and my Mom's a half-brother she was never close to and whom died in mid-adulthood. Besides my sister and two brothers there is not much family for me to rely on. I suppose in some ways that has been the reason for the new parenting style I adopted after my husband's death. I was always what you would describe a very affectionate, doting, and involved mom to my sons. But when I became an only parent my focus on the boys increased and I became an overprotective and extremely committed mother overnight.

There was no one else to share the parenting chores or worry - mainly the worry. That is what will end up eating you alive. Will the boys make the baseball team, will they pass their math class, will they be safe as they start driving, will I be able to keep them protected and happy on my own? It is a double-edged sword. Not having a partner or family to rely on forces one to take on more than is probably humanly possible. Knowing that you're the only one out there raising and caring about these kids makes one even more committed to the task.

It is very trying to be the only one making major decisions for your children. I have such a fear of making a wrong one. These boys have already gone through way more than most kids their ages will ever encounter. I agonize over my decisions because in the end, my greatest hope is that these boys will be spared more pain and suffering.

I now worry about the boys being able to get into college. What will they study? How will we afford it? What kind of future can I provide for these boys continuing to parent and live on my own? There is no ex-husband to call and say, "We need to meet at the school counselor's office to discuss Junior's bad attitude." Or, "I need some more help here. Can you take the boys an extra weekend so I can have some time to myself. I need to regroup and recharge."

There is such pressure on me to raise these boys to the best of my abilities. But when you can't share some of that responsibility it wears and breaks you down. That is where I'm at right now. No one to mull it over with, talk it out, decide together on the best course of action. Just me.

"It takes two to tango." "Two heads are better than one." Yes, I believe all those sayings. I'm so tired and worn out now. I'm not sure how much I can trust myself with those decisions I have to still make.

You care and care and look out for the kids (even bigger ones) and then there is no one to help you. Just a little bit is needed. A hug, being brought a cup of tea, having someone remember to pick up a needed item up from the store. It is like running around on empty all day, every day for weeks, months, years on end. I just have to keep going for a little longer - gas don't run out on me, we're almost there... And more often than not, the gas gauge IS on empty! There is always a sense of anxiousness inside me, almost a sense of dread. Running on empty, always trying to be ahead of the game to fend off the potential evil forces.

I have come to know that everyone needs someone sometime to lean on and rely on. It is a given. I have needed help and tried to find it but have been turned down. When I told my second husband that I needed help cleaning out the garage to start the house selling process he sneered at me and growled, "You are so weak and pathetic." When I needed help for food and medical insurance, I was turned down for making pennies over the predetermined financial requirements. When I got the job at the big box store it was accepted based on my being given extra hours but that fell through very quickly. The food pantry I went to didn't have enough food to pass out!

And here is some irony - in the new state Sam lives in we would all qualify for free or reduced health insurance without a hitch. We are close to the free qualification but if I had to pay it would cost me only $40.00 monthly compared to the #350.00 I am currently paying out-of-pocket! Is that a kick in the pants or a sign that I need to move?

The point of my ramblings is just that I think all of us have times when we need to lean more rather than having others lean on us. But sometimes it is hard or maybe even impossible to find that. Except I believe I have with Sam. But he has had to move and now the boys are sobbing and screaming and wailing and blaming me for having to leave their school and community. So what is my choice now? They are each getting 3 Fs at the new school and one F on the report card disqualifies them from playing sports for a full year. Here at home they were passing with Bs and Cs.

Sam has given me the greatest gift by calling me this morning and telling me that if I decided to stay here in Illinois he will support that and we will work out a sort of "visitation" schedule to be together on weekends. But he honestly doubts I can make this work financially on my own and it will be expensive to drive back and forth 400 miles on alternating weekends. That will fall into my job category since he works on weekends.

Do I force the boys to move and then deal with the consequences whatever ends up happening because I want to live with Sam and try to assemble some sort of family life for all of us?

I have prayed for my deceased husband and my Mom to please come to me with some kind of message and advice but none have come forth. I have begged the Universe for guidance and a sense of direction but again, nothing is speaking to me. No inner or outer voice. Except to hear the sobs of anguish from my sons. And I am the only one listening. The curse of the only parent whose frustrated cursing is also unheard.

New Year's Dose of Reality

I cannot let a day as significant as the first of a new decade go by without a post. I read my post from 1/1/09, which was the first to this blog and it scares me a little that I was dealing with the same things then as I am now - fear, resistance to change, financial hardship, still feeling grief about my husband's death and then the divorce from Husband #2. At that time I still was living in the house, not yet officially divorced and did not have to make the decision of moving out-of-state and taking the boys out of their current comfort zone. So I still was cultivating a sense of hope in my words and mood as I wrote on that day.

If anything, 2009 was worse than 2008. We all say, next year is sure to be better and improve, it can't get much worse, blah, blah, blah. But I think it can. I think it did. Why am I now forced to make a decision that isn't clear and results in good and bad whatever way I go? Why can't I be given a choice that is so easy to make because it clearly tips one way or the other?

I can choose to move, which will make my life easier but may greatly be detrimental to my boys. I am losing an opportunity to rejoin the ranks of more normal families, if there is such a thing. I want to live with a man, share my life, build a new one with a partner. What if this is my last shot at it? I don't move and the relationship can't be sustained because of the stress and strain with the physical distance between us?

If I stay, I will make great sacrifices with my emotions and health to continue to parent on my own, as well as attempting to maintain a long-distance relationship. It doesn't seem fair to have to make these decisions after what I have been through. There is no right or wrong choice here. Each has its strength and merits. But I do feel as though I am having to choose between love for myself and what is better or right for my sons.

I am honestly not sure I can endure this only parenting gig anymore. It is a backbreaking burden and I am so spent and now I'm cold too with the bleakness of winter.

I want my cake and to eat it too. To still be able to have a significant relationship with a great guy and to have my boys finish high school here. I just can't bear and seem to face the grief and adjustment that a major move out-of-state will involve.

The boys and I have talked today. They remain so resistant to the move. I wish life hadn't thrown me this new curve ball. I wish it were easier for me to pack up my stakes and throw caution to the wind and just take off for a new life. To treat it all as an adventure. But I'm not that way with my personality and I've been through too much to make me not be cautious and wary. I wish I were the type of parent that said, "Tough it out kids. This is the way it is, deal with it." But I'm not that mom either.

Never in a million years would I have thought last year that 12 months into the future I would be at this difficult and confusing crossroads. Frankly, I am sick and tired of life being so tough and inconsistent. Unless you can call hardship consistent.

Why did Sam have to be offered a job at this location? Why couldn't have something come through to him here in the Chicago area so our lives could have remained stable in that regard at least? Is it weak and immature to admit that I just don't seem to have the strength to handle this move? That I am unable to see the good that lies beyond the initial pain of the move?

Well, this is hardly the uplifting and hopeful post I'd wanted to compose for this day. But it is honest and real. So that is how I'll be starting this new year and decade. Not on a fluffy cloud of hope and optimism but one that is where I'm at - confused, sad, scared, unmotivated, dizzy with indecision, exhausted and regretful. All the stuff we shouldn't be on this day I suppose. But it's where I am.

Is It An Oven Mitt Or A Mitten?

I am doing my best to not post anything depressing or down today - for my sake as well as those who read. So here is a funny situation that had the boys and I laughing hysterically last night.

I am knitting some items for my oldest son's girlfriend - mittens, ski band, scarf and mittens. My son and I picked up some little things from the dollar store. And he is using the gift cards he got from her (Walmart and Kohl's) to get her something else.

When my son saw the mittens I'd made he was visibly disappointed. He told me they looked like an oven mitt! I guess they were a little big and bulky. I ended up going to bed unsure of what I would do. This morning, I got up and immediately set to work on crocheting another pair of mittens in a smaller size. And my son was much more pleased. I'm not sure what will come of the larger sized pair. My son told me he could still give them to his girlfriend to use as oven mitts - but I don't think they are bulky enough to provide protection from the heat.

I don't know what happened - I made the mittens as per the directions. Despite my aggravation at having to redo a couple hours of work, the situation did provide us all with a lot of laughter and cheap entertainment. The laughs lasted all night. And I suppose that is a gift of sorts. Although as I'm still laughing over this, my youngest is telling me that the moment is way over!

Greater Losses than Vacations

My brother is taking his wife and three kids to Hawaii where my other brother lives for a week and a half over the holidays. I do not begrudge him this vacation. He works hard and like all of us deserves time off. I am just sad that the boys and I have not been able to go anywhere the past years. When my husband was alive we took the boys to The Field of Dreams, Mt. Rushmore, The Outer Banks, Niagra Falls, Canada and lots of small trips to Wisconsin. We had plans in the works to go to Colorado and Arkansas. Now I wish we had used some of the insurance money, small as it was, to go somewhere - anywhere.

It is not just the vacations that we have all missed. The boys have truly been deprived of so much over the years. A strong male presence; a father to rely and depend on; assistance with math and science homework; someone to teach them guy stuff, like how to put on a tie; a stronger disciplinary enforcer than I am; an adult male to talk with about girls, sex and guy problems - I could go on and on if I wanted to think more about it but I don't. Point being, my sons have been deprived spiritually and emotionally. It breaks my heart so many times a day when something comes up where the reality of them not having a father is so vivid and apparent.

And that is partly why I am struggling so much with the move and still not convinced it is the right thing to do. My boys have worn used clothing, lived without cable, received mostly used electronics and have not had a vacation in years. Their Dad died. They have no Dad and have not had one for six years, although you could really say eight, since the two years he was sick he was often at the hospital.

I can't give my boys a trip to Hawaii. I can't give them much help with math or science. I can't bring their Dad back. The only thing I can do is to try and keep them in their beloved hometown and school. They've already faced so much pain and heartbreak. I don't want them to feel anymore. Please spare them more agony and misery. We are not a "normal" family like the one that will be flying into Hawaii from Chicago in a few days. Decisions and solutions right for "normal" families aren't applicable in this case. The rules that used to be in place were chucked in the garbage six years ago.

Pots of Loss

Sam confided yesterday that the reason he pushed for us to move so quickly was well meaning. He thought it would be easier for me to deal with all the recent losses (selling the house, moving to the apt., etc.) if he threw the relocation in there along with them. His reasoning was that I'd be able to deal with all the losses at the same time and get "over" them more quickly.

Although I understand his intention, from my personal experience and what I have read about multiple losses, I'm not sure this is how it works. I think you have to deal with each loss on its own. You can't combine a bunch of losses and deal with them all together. Each one is its own entity.

I know from my situation as well, that there is a limit to how much grief I can handle. When it exceeds that limit I shut down and simply can't take on any more. When my Mom was dying two years ago and I was supposed to be packing up and selling my home and moving out of state, the only issue I could focus on was my Mom. I also realized I absolutely did not possess the strength to deal with my Mom's death and then handle the issues relating to the relocation. It was too much for me. I know Husband #2 did not understand this and it was part of what led to the divorce.

This current situation seems so much a repeat of what happened two years ago. I have just "lost" my home and moved into an apartment. The place isn't even unpacked. We never had a moment to settle in or process this life changing event. And then overnight I was forced to make decisions relating to another out-of-state relocation. I feel there wasn't adequate time for me to even gain some clarity or perspective before being thrust into this new whilwind.

One of my girlfriends commented the other day that people have to move all the time for jobs and family issues. She made it sound so matter-of-fact. But timing and circumstances do figure in there too. In the recent past I have had to face a very painful divorce, the sale and move from our home, finding and moving into a small apartment, fitting all the overflow of household goods and possessions into storage units and then taking a time intensive Nursing Assistant Program because of job necessity. Maybe for other people this wouldn't be too much, but it is for me. And it is also partly because I've had to face those issues on my own while trying to figure out what is best for my sons.

Sam described me as falling apart at the seams and being a wreck. I found the description very painful to hear. He said he wants to make life easier for me but it seems as though since the move I am more despondent and unhappy. That's grief for you. You are despondent. He thinks the boys have fed off my grief which can very well be true but the reality is that my depression has been so linked into their grief. Kind of like which came first - my grief over them having to move or theirs. But it doesn't really matter which came first anyway - it is all so interconnected. All of us are having difficulty with this. Sam thinks I should buck up and demonstrate strength for the boys - no more sleeping in during the day or crying. I don't relate this to bash him - it is how he feels. I've tried to explain that grief is very powerful and cannot be so easily batted away. I see his point about trying to be there more for the boys but that doesn't mean I can will my own grief away.

I have certainly learned through all of this that we can't push grief away and expect to heal. It is walking through it, crying, hurting and even vomiting from the grief that gets us out of the basement level of pain. So for those of us with more on our plates that also means having a longer go at the process. We'll be taking those steps out of the basement at a slower pace. Or maybe we'll stop a moment to sit on the steps awhile before making the effort to go back up.

I don't believe you can lump all your losses together to make the load easier or faster to get through. Multi-tasking may work in real life but not with grief. Each loss has to be grieved on its own. I think you have to concentrate on one to experience it fully. If you try to grieve everything all at once it just becomes muddled and unclear as to what you're exactly grieving. About grief overload - too much is too much. Being a wreck and appearing as though we're falling apart at the seams is an indication that it has all become too much. It would be nice to have the ability to take a break from life's current problems to have the time to devote to the past. It would be ideal if that could be the case. As for the times when life keeps piling up the challenges, I'm not sure what the solution is. What is the strategy for grieving at the same time you are living and facing difficult circumstances?

I suppose one answer would be to deal with what is most pressing at hand and having the strength and sense to put aside the other matters for a short while. Then returning to them when life has been restored to a more even level. What I have learned is that trying to handle too much grief all at once is futile. In doing that you run the risk of tuning out and avoidance, as well as feeling insane. Losses are very profound and each has such an individual meaning and significance for us. There is a certain level of honoring our losses that I have come to recognize as necessary. They can't be lumped together like a blob of clay. Each loss has to be formed and then put into the kiln and fired. For now, I will concentrate on this new move and put some of the other losses on the shelf to fire in the kiln later. They'll still be there, safe and sound. Let me tell you, they aren't going anywhere! But right now all my focus, strength and energy is needed to mold the pot determining where the boys will end up at school.

Fractured Family Riding The Hamster Exercise Wheel

My oldest is refusing to speak with me, except to announce that he will be "taking" the van after school to drive the almost four-hour ride back home for the weekend. I am planning to bring the boys back home to the apartment for Christmas break next week. We need to stay here this weekend to help Sam out with his son. He has not seen him for almost two months and works this weekend. If we are not home, the 11-year-old will be alone by himself in a home he has never even seen most of the weekend. I feel it is only fair that we help Sam out. Sam thinks I should let the boys drive home on their own. Letting a just-turned-17-year-old drive the "good" vehicle on his own, along with his 15-year-old brother and then be on their own an entire weekend does not seem to me to be responsible or rational. Too much can go wrong. We are too far away. That is a situation more applicable for college kids, not those still in high school.

I have visions of having to call the police or reporting the van stolen if he storms out of the house. I feel such a sadness and weariness about my sons and their behavior. Both of the counselors at both schools have said that they feel the boys should be more mature and better able to handle this transition than they have demonstrated.

I can point to so many reasons for why I think the boys are acting as they are. I was overly protective after their Dad died; they have not had any significant male role models in their life since their Dad's death; I did not spend enough time with them when I was caring for my parents; they were very hurt by my second husband blowing us off and virtually abandoning us; there were periods after the divorce when I was so grief stricken I'm not sure how much of an attentive parent I was. And some of this too is that they are teens and going through normal acting out and rebellion.

Sam took over my cell phone plan to ease up on my finances and got everyone new phones yesterday, including unlimited texting and internet, which I had blocked because of the cost. The boys seem to find this an expected given. Where we lived, fancy electronics were the norm for the kids. Every family had an SUV and/or luxury vehicle. So that is a part of who they are too. Despite my widowhood status, I did my best to keep up and provide for the boys. They have gone without but then again, they haven't. I was able to do it until the divorce, although on a much smaller scale than two-parent households. My boys got the electronics, although they were used models. They had phones with unlimited texting but no internet. I fixed up an old manual transmission car so my oldest could drive the van, which still looks good despite its 108,000 thousand miles.

I am awaiting a call from the guidance dept. of the old school to discuss options for bringing the boys back. Sam and I both feel that needs to be considered at this point. Maybe this move is not in the best interests of this family. The move was made with the best of intentions. The only thing we are not giving it is time but right now there is not any to have the luxury to play around with. If we move permanently, it will have to be at the end of the month and I will lose my apartment. Both of us adults have to consider the future consequences of the boys not adjusting or fitting in here.

It would have been hard enough blending a family together in a new home even in the same old town. Try doing that in a totally foreign state and environment (rural, farm area). We're just trying to be realistic. At least we tried and made the effort.

My husband's death had such far reaching consequences, well beyond what I ever would have first expected. I wish I had been the one who had died. The boys would never have had to face the financial problems that hit us because of my husband's income and job position. As males, it would have been better for their father to have raised them. And that is based on my overall perspective having been an only female parent of two boys. I think it would have been easier for me to have raised two daughters on my own or a son and daughter.

This kind of death and loss has such far reaching implications for the family members left behind. I just want to impart that the complications, trials and tribulations faced by such families as mine can seem unbearable and endless. I can describe it as being like a hamster on an exercise wheel. The problems and challenges keep piling up and you just keep running and continuing to run to keep up but the wheel really doesn't go anywhere. People have such a finite view of grief. That somehow after a certain time period, life will be restored and whole again. But if you can never go back to the life you had, how will that be possible? No one stops to consider that. And what happens when the new life ahead of you is harder than anything you could ever have imagined? Suddenly you have to reevaluate all of your original perceptions of happiness and contentment.

The complications, curve balls, hardships and challenges keep one mired in the grief. It cannot be escaped because it has overtaken one's life at all levels. In my situation at least, the grief has continued to follow me. That is because there are losses after the loss. And you have to grieve those too. So, my hope for today's post is that maybe in some small way I can spread the word about this reality. Grief can expand beyond the initial death. Families become fractured. Mothers lose hope. Life does not get better, easier or whole after a year of mourning. Sometimes the grief gets worse.

Wanting To Be A Hibernating Bear

I am having a rough time - continuing to doubt my decision about moving. The boys' pain and grief is tearing me up inside. We've already suffered so much. Why do have to continue to endure change and challenge? It is hard to focus on the good that will come of this because it is in the future and the boys are so miserable right now. I cannot bear to see them suffer.

I am experiencing all those miserable symptoms of early grief - sobbing, not wanting to get up out of bed, hopelessness, tiredness, depression, not eating, feeling sick to my stomach, inactivity, loss of interest, helplessness and I'll be honest in admitting even wanting to die.

It is very cold here and the weather is not helping. I want to become a bear and just hibernate in a cave until the Spring thaw. But of course I need to somehow pull this all together and be there for the boys even though they are not speaking to me.

My sons want me to at least try and make a go of it back home on my own so they can finish at their old high school. But what they don't and can't understand is that I am tapped out of the strength and energy to do that. Although they told me I should muster it up because that is my job as a mother.

This pain is worse than what I felt when my husband died and then when I got divorced. I was helpless in preventing the death and had no control of changing my second husband's mind. But making the decision to move is within my power and to a degree I am responsible for the agony of my sons. Even though I made the decision trying to rationalize the overall eventual good for the family as a whole.

Hungry Holidays Ho Ho Ho

It was my son's 17th birthday this week. I was unable to get him anything. That fact has broken my heart. He asked me for $5.00 to add to the $5.00 he had so he could look for a winter coat at the Goodwill store. His search was unsuccessful. While we were snowbound at the new home, there was no school for three days and on Thur. we were all stir crazy. My oldest went with us to look for a coat at TJ Maxx. He found one for $40.00 and Sam got it for him along with some new headphones since his had broken. Then at Walmart, Sam got my son a Packers t-shirt to wear to tomorrow's game, and an inexpensive pair of gloves and hat. The night before Sam brought home an ice cream cake and treated the boys to Taco Bell. So I want to believe that my son had a birthday of sorts. He received a few things. Not much and some were necessities. It hurts the most that I was unable to shop and get him anything.

While we were at Walmart I found a decent looking jacket for only $7.00. I wanted my son to get it and then we'd return the $40.00 one from TJ Maxx. I truly thought it looked warm and sufficient. Sam agreed with my son that we should keep the more expensive one. I regretted that we'd gone to TJ Maxx first. If we'd gone to Walmart first my son would have probably been satisified with the jacket there. It kind of amazed me that I was in this Walmart (a store I rarely set foot in when my husband was alive), regretting the non-purchase of a $7.00 jacket! Who would ever have believed this would be my reality following my husband's death? Pinching and counting pennies out of necessity. Being unable to afford birthday or Christmas gifts for my sons.

I know this low point is just temporary. Once I start working life will improve. But while we're here it is such a low point to be. I feel dragged and sucked under the poverty, worry and anxiety. I am becoming obsessed with food again. I am not eating much, throwing whatever odds and ends can be put together and concentrating on feeding the boys. They seem to have stomachs that are bottomless. Everyone seems to be hungry. There is food at Sam's - nothing fancy but at least filling. I am here back at home for the weekend wishing I'd taken some from his home because our kitchen is bare. But the boys were so anxious to leave I didn't. I figured we could make it a couple days.

I have a vision of a Christmas tree just filled with food. Do you know the ones that they sometimes display hung with sugar cookies or gingerbread men? Two years ago I hung a tree in my kitchen just filled with gingerbread men. I used a glue gun to fasten red ribbon bows as hangers. It was very cute. Now I imagine a tree filled with ribboned chocolate covered pretzels. And those little chocolate ball and santa ornaments. And loads of sugar cookie angels and bells to keep company with the gingerbread men. I think I could be creative and come up with some other food items to hand up there too - candy canes, popcorn garlands...

My son told me today he feels down about not having any money to afford gifts for his friends. Last year I knit and crocheted some things for his then girlfriend - a pink scarf and ski band. I will offer to do that again. Maybe I can come up with something for his buddies - key chains or a wrist band. It is pretty lame I know. Needless to say I am not in much of a holiday mood and do not have much holiday cheer or spirit. I just want this absolute miserable year to be over - the year of my divorce and losing my home.

Snowstorm

We have been holed up because of that horrific snowstorm that swept the Midwest this week. It all started Monday when the boys and I left late for the 200 mile drive to the new house/town/school. This was because it was my oldest son's 17th birthday and he wanted to go to his old school as his friends had celebrations planned and gifts to give. But I needed to get the boys back to the new school so too much work wasn't missed. Anyway, we started out late, 10:30 p.m. or so because my son was taken to Buffalo Wild Wings for a birthday dinner from his girlfriend. I was a bit concerned about starting so late because the storm was predicted but the snowfall wasn't supposed to hit until the morning hours. We reached it about midnight. And I then spent a white-knuckled three-hour drive on the highway with only semi trucks to keep me company.

I couldn't see the highway well because of the wind and drifting snow and it was so dark. All of us out on the road were only going 45 mph and the limit is 70. It was also the first snow of the season and so I wasn't that confident about my winter driving skills since they've been shelved the past eight months. But we got there in one piece.

Tue. school was canceled, as well as Wed. and Thur. So much for trying to get the boys there. Our town received over 12 inches of snow. Back home in Illinois, there were no school cancellations but I don't think they got the same amount of snow or the blizzard conditions to go along with the storm.

The boys behaved okay while at home. Sam was off on Thursday and home early another day because of the weather. Except for my youngest refusing to get out with us on Thur. to go to Walmart, there were no incidents.

I felt depressed, despondent and down (DDD) most of the time. I'd forgotten hair conditioner as well as my hair dryer so I said forget it to showering a couple days and even stayed in my pjs all day on Tuesday. I read and did some knitting (halfheartedly). We have never had Cable and on Tue. I spent the entire afternoon watching a Discovery Chanel program about ghosts that aired three episodes in a row. Then there was a program about some ghost busters going around the country and visiting the most haunted sites. Another day, all of us watched a quirky sci-fi monster film called Tremors starring of all people, Reba McIntyre.

Some of the DDD might have had to do with the weather. I absolutely hate the winter and cold and snow and dark. Plus we are in a home where there isn't much there that is ours so we are lacking what is familiar to us in terms of possessions. Then it is the holdiays and it is sad to not be able to decorate (since all my decorations are somewhere in a storage shed), or to have money to spend on gifts and good food. I spent a lot of time sleeping too, although I hope I can pass this off as making up for all the sleep I've lost over the past years.

Today the boys went to school but I had to deal with transferring records from the old school and doing so made me very dejected. I spent the morning in bed reading and was not motivated to get up and do anything like wash dishes and go through the large bag of old mail I'd brought with me. I needed to do some shoveling so we could get the van out of the garage and getting out into the cold sunshine and doing something physical felt good.

We took off for home for the weekend right after school since my last day at the big box store is tomorrow and my oldest is going to the Bears/Packers game this Sunday - the tickets were his birthday gift from his girlfriend. My youngest was snippy and negative the ride home. By the way, we saw 30 cars and trucks in the ditches within a 20 mile stretch of highway and 12 more after that - and this is two days after the storm! As we got closer to home my resistence to the move started to give way and I found myself questioning whether it really is in our best interests to move. So in addition to feeling BBB, now I am grappling with whether I should do my best to stay here, even though finances will be exceedingly tight. Both boys feel they are ruined scholastically since most of their credits won't transfer from their old school to the new one and all the work they have done this year will be wasted. They also feel very behind and frustrated with their new classes since they came in at such an odd time.

Enough of all this. I am weary and bone tired even though this week I didn't do much of anything. My head is spinning and I just want to go to bed. I spent a lot of my time thinking about the boys this week and my heart is breaking for the hardships they have had to endure. If only we could have made it until they'd finished high school. I am very angry at my husband dying when he did. We have suffered more than enough! Change is hard enough under better circumstances but coming off of so much grief and loss, it is hard for my sons and I to be positive about this move. I found myself feeling irritated and mad at Sam because he took the job out of state, even though I know it was a survival strategy. But still. I also felt homesick for what is familiar to me and known (and that was only spending four days at the new house and in the new town). I wish I had the personality where I felt excitement about this new beginning and all of that, but I just don't. It is part of my pessimistic nature, my age and all the loss that has just multipled the past years since my husband died. Is it possible for people experiencing grief to turn on a switch within to feel positive and upbeat about the changes they are facing, including the unknown? I personally just don't think grief, loss and change are a compatible combination.