Vision

I was listening to the audio of Caroline Myss, "Navigating Hope," and at one point she said that the reason people have trouble moving out of grief is that we are too stuck in our pasts. By that she means we keep wanting for our lives to be like they were before. Because that is impossible to achieve, we remain pretty miserable with our lives.

Actually, I think there is a point to this observation. I know that I wish I had my old life back. Trouble is, I am having trouble envisioning a new life. How are we supposed to do this? It is so much easier to want to restore what we had because it was known and we can see it our our minds. How do I look toward the future when I have nothing to throw my anchor into except a blank slate? My anchor is still stuck behind me because it was familiar and good. The future as an unknown is scary and treacherous.

I guess the point is that we need to have hope and faith in the unknown future. And to cast our anchors out before us blindly expecting the best.

You hear all this advice on what to do but I'm still lost. What are the steps we can take to start our future visions? If I come across any advice on this I'll provide an update, but I've been on this path awhile now and am still floundering.

Books/Authors/Widows

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Snapped Rubber Band

I have come to believe that people have a breaking point in regard to how much grief, loss and pain they can take. At some point, the rubber band has stretched too far, too thin, too many times and it snaps. I guess the next question is, what happens after that? The rubber band is usually tossed in the trash, no longer salvageable. And what if there isn't a replacement at the ready?

I've been catching the new ancestry show on NBC, "Who Do You Think You Are?" that airs on Friday nights. A few weeks back, the show was about Brooke Shields. Many years ago, I remember reading that the familial relationship between Brooke's mother and grandmother was strained. So in this episode, Brooke wanted to see if she could uncover some information about her grandmother to help explain this.

She found that her grandmother had lost her mother at age 10 and then lived a life involving hardship and poverty in New Jersey. Her grandmother was forced to become sister and mother to her siblings. Some years later, another tragedy occurred when one of the brothers died in a drowning accident - I think he was about 13.

With the cameras rolling on Brooke, she processed this information with amazing clarity and insight. She related that she now had some compassion and understanding for her grandmother's situation, which until that point she had been totally unaware. Basically, she said that she could now comprehend her grandmother's ongoing negativity and bitterness. She said something to the effect that people can only take so much and perhaps her grandmother's early losses had been too much to bear.

Recently at the bookstore I paged through a new book on grief that has come out. The significance in it is that there haven't been many recent studies on grief and loss so this one is getting some attention. It is titled, "The Other Side of Sadness." I would like to read it someday just for general knowledge but from what I can tell, I think the main premise by the author is that people are much more resilient than been given credit for in the past - I guess along the gist of people bouncing back and recovering and becoming happy again.

EXCEPT the author did concede that some of us do struggle harder and longer than others. Especially those who are dealing with loss along with financial issues. Another point raised was that people lacking strong support systems of family and friends are at a disadvantage because a great deal of emotional support is necessary, AS WELL as ongoing support to tackle ordinary household and everyday situations. The author additionally brought up the fact that some people are more naturally resilient and optimistic than others too, so personal makeup and genes do factor in also.

This was part of the point I was trying to make in my "Crazy Widow" post. That I can comprehend why and how some widows do seem to go off the deep end, withdraw or give up hope. It is a combination of so many factors.

I look back at my journey and am just now beginning to realize how disadvantaged I was even at the beginning of widowhood. My husband had been sick for three years so there was fatigue, sorrow, grief and loss that had existed for a number of years even before the actual death! That is another fact that I don't think people ever stop to realize or consider. For those long-term caregivers, the entire period leading up to the loss is almost its own period of transition, stress and strain. And you go from that to big time grief!

I won't belabor the point here. I've said what I want to say. The question and possibly the key I need to lock next is, so now what? The rubber band is in the garbage. Or put another way, what do you do when you desperately need a vacation but can't take one? How can a broken, drained, depleted and hopeless spirit be revived after it has snapped?

I don't think you can tell someone in this place to wait it out and give it time. Maybe time has run out. I think hope has to be built on hope. And when there is none there it may be a futile effort. So where does that spark come from when it can no longer be ignited from within?

A Little Step Back

Was out of commission yesterday due to a migraine. Although I have been spared many physical ailments like the flu and colds since my husband's death, I do suffer from frequent and severe headaches. This one hit me in the middle of the night and I wondered if it had started from some of the stress I felt after attending a mandatory parent meeting at the high school for an overnight field trip my oldest is taking.

Monday was a cold and snowy night - my favorite kind of weather for trekking over to the school. The meeting started at 7:00 but my son needed to be at school at 6:30 for volley ball practice. So I sat in the parking lot not wanting to go in earlier and make small talk with the other parents and sit by myself. As always with these kinds of events, I end up feeling a bit down because most of the parents attending are together. You'd think that after six years I'd be more used to this but I am not. There is still a pang seeing myself as the odd man out and then feeling alone. It especially hits me at school events.

There was another pang when I had to write out a check for $95.00 to cover the cost of the trip. We just don't have that kind of extra money right now. But at the same time I want my son to have the opportunity to attend this trip. I went on some overnight trips in high school including Washington D.C. and want my son to have these experiences too. We're so cut to the bone financially in so many ways. Giving my son this opportunity seems to me the least he is entitled to.

Yet another pang when I had to approach the dad who is the treasurer for this organization and whom I personally know and ask him if the check could be held until the end of the week for cashing. There wasn't a problem with that but I still felt humbled and embarrassed at having to ask.

The issue of health insurance came up at the meeting and I want to avoid that topic since it is such a hot one for me. I am awaiting word on approval from our state insurance program, which I was rejected from last spring for making pennies (yes, pennies) over the yearly income base requirement. That was because my income from the big box store was included. This time when I applied, I was no longer working there so should be approved. But I am still waiting...

After the meeting, there was some time to kill because my son's practice wasn't over until 8:30. We're back to driving only the van now. I canceled the insurance on our second car that I was driving because of the cost. I plan on reactivating it as soon as I start work. But in the meantime, there are some logistical complications in figuring out where we'll all be and how we'll get there, mainly on nights such as this one where two people had to be at places at different times.

I left the meeting feeling drained and worried. I am just so tired. Internally exhausted. I don't know how else to describe it. I feel weary to the bone. All these years of stress and strain have caught up with me. There hasn't been a respite or a vacation. Just more to fret about. I began to think about the dire necessity of finding a full-time job but then the concern that I am so beat how am I going to manage it and be an effective parent? It is hard living and coping without the stress of work as it is. All those thoughts were weighing heavy on my mind when I went to bed.

When I got up with the headache I took the last two OTC migraine pills left. Usually, one dose kicks the pain. But not this time. I could barely make the drive for the a.m. school drop off and got sick in the van. I managed to stumble into Walgreen's where they thankfully had the brand that works well for me on sale for only $2.50 a bottle - Excedrin. I went home and took the pills with some Coke (for the extra caffeine) and had to go back to bed. Thankfully, I was able to get up and about by the time the boys were home from school and make dinner, etc. But then I found myself berating my need for having had to take the day off so I am now behind in job hunting, working on clearing out the storage shed and organizing my financial papers.

Today is a new beginning and I'm trying to be upbeat and positive. But it is hard in this cold, dark weather and I feel so exhausted inside and out. How does one restore their energy at times like this? I cannot dismiss the fact the losses of my recent life kicked me down to the gutter. There was too much that happened in a condensed time - this has taken a tremendous toll on me emotionally and physically. I am weary to the core. Hardly the go-get-em attitude I need to embrace for job hunting in this frigid winter weather. It is darn challenging to pump myself up and plant that smile on my face. Far easier to stay hunkered down inside, hiding.

Point being - I think that my situation shows that a significant number of losses makes it more difficult to "get over it," and move on. There has been more to grieve and it has taken me longer. Consequently, I am more depleted - the energy just seems to have zapped out of me. Also, I believe that those of us facing grief and loss in midlife have a rough time because at this age it is harder to bounce back as we did when we were younger. We're more set in our ways and physically less active. This makes for less resilience that we have to counteract with our own internal fortitude. It's not easy.

Today I am grateful for:

1. The opportunity my son has for going on this overnight field trip.
2. My sons passing all their classes (no summer school at this point).
3. The price break I got on the turkey burger patties I picked up at the store yesterday.
4. OTC migraine medicine that actually works.
5. A heated place to live and hide in.

Turning the Page

I had to pick up my last paycheck stubs from the big, box store and went in to get them on Monday. That experience inspires this post. I called the office before I left so they would expect me. When I arrived, I greeted the female office manager who was talking with one of the male store managers. Both of these people know me and worked with me for 8 months. There were never personality problems or run ins with either.

I was given my paperwork by the office manager who did not even stop talking with the other manager. Neither one looked at, acknowledged me or said anything. I made a point of saying goodbye to both and left. It was an odd, unsettling experience but typical of this place. My feeling unacknowledged and invisible was frequent during my employment there. There were times when the top store manager would walk by and I would say hello and he also would not say anything to me. He'd just walk by. So I'm not sure if the people this guy hires are similar in disposition to him or they model the behavior after being hired to fit in.

In any case, this all got me to thinking about isolation and grief. Despite the rather bizarre experience of working at this store, I am grateful that doing so provided opportunities for me to socialize and get out and about in the world. I formed some acquaintances with co-workers and enjoyed interacting with the customers. For various reasons I didn't work much after my husband's death. And looking back am seeing that this may have been a hindrance. If I'd been working, I'd hopefully been able to tap into another social support network and my sense of confidence would probably be higher.

I am finding that grief feeds on itself. And in being isolated it can be very easy to fall into the trap of just staying in that cave longer than one should. Without a purpose or reason to get up, it can be so easy to spend endless days stuck on that page where the grief remains blinding and excruciating. There is also the element of resisting change and finding comfort in what you know. You stay on the same page because at least you know what that feels like. It can be very hard to turn the page when you don't know what is coming or how you'll cope or handle it all.

Being a working parent is tough for everyone and especially only parents. I'm not particularly looking forward to joining the daily grind again. But I am trying to look at it from a more positive view. That I will certainly be deriving many benefits, the first of which will be to have greater interaction with others and the world. I will no longer be able to hunker down in my cave for as long as I want. I will be emerging to face the sun and air more days than I have in the past years.

Today I am grateful:

1. For having shelter from the elements and cold.
2. That we have food.
3. That we have a computer and internet access.
4. That we have cell phones.
5. That we have warm clothes, although our boots seem to have been misplaced in the move. We'll try to make due.