Widowhood: In The Beginning

In the weeks following my husband's death, 

as I spiraled and swam in the jello of the life it was becoming, 

I found refuge going to a bookstore.

I was a "widow".I didn't know what that meant.

I was no longer "married"; I still felt  joined together.

Some said I'd remarry quickly; I was still "young enough".

Others understood my marriage was for life . . . and beyond.

My "other half" was gone, never to return.

Engagement ring and wedding ring on my finger;

I seldom took them off when we were together.

Now apart, they kept him close and in my heart.

How did others live during this time? What did they do? 

How did they go through the days, the nights, 

The time from ... here.....to.....there?

Books had always been a major refuge.

A ways and means to move into and through various times in life.

Most of my life I couldn't afford to buy books.

I discovered very early the wonderful world of the Public Library.
As deep into books as some kids are into video games.

Magazines, periodicals of all types 

beckoned me to open them, learn about history, science, 

the world in general, and people in particular.

I loved to read. I devoured the classics,  SciFi writers like Bradbury and Asimov. The fantasies and deeper, more life challenging, and thought provoking writings of Madeline L'Engle and others .

At thirteen I'd read many of Tolstoy's works including War and Peace and Anna Karanina. I was the girl walking home from the library with as many books as she could carry. 

Reader: This was a time when many books were still "banned":

 there were age limits on what anyone under 18 could read.

My world was small in my first two decades; my time was vast. 
Moving as much as we did, friends came and went. 

"We" met at College, over a Ping Pong table. 

Enjoyed the occasional dances held on weekends, 

Dropped by during and after classes to have "conversations".  

It was on campus but created a different world 

for those who could not/did not "pledge" a Greek Social group.

We were the kids who had to go every semester to "Convocations" Turn in tickets with your name on it. Specific amount every semester.

Try to get that past a College student today! 

Near the end of my Sophomore year, there was a very rare demonstration on campus for  "equal rights".

 Kids were being "escorted" away and any who "protested" found themselves a guest of the local sheriff and their father was called to come and get them no matter how far away.

I depended on a small scholarship and knew my Mom couldn't come to get me, we didn't have a car. No matter how I thought or felt, I had to keep walking, go to class and . . . wait for the passing of time.

Knew I had to "aim higher" and even "beyond the ordinary". 

I changed my major to Business and then Marketing Management. 

In a graduation class of over a thousand getting Business degrees, there were twelve women who chose this more challenging road.

Remember one classmate, grades in every other subject gave her a 3.5 average, one of the top students in the class. A male teacher refused to give her anything higher than a "C" -- because she was a woman. 

I had my own "encounters" as I moved from the campus into the world.

Interviewed , by the person responsible for hiring, the man told me:

"You have great qualifications, but I want a man for the position."

We, the Baby Boomer women of this time, struggled for decades to gain the rights our daughters and grand-daughters now have.

 

When you "look down on" those "advanced in age" consider if the women of those days had given up, given in and just took what they could get, where you would be today.

College made possible by a small scholarship from a local car dealership still in business today led by another generation.

 It was the "keys to the kingdom" and would help me with tuition and books for the first two years. 

Working every chance I had and saving, I was able to make it to the "goal" -- the coveted BS degree.

Being away from my Mom, my "rock" and the one person I had who was constant in my life, was challenging. 

I often found a way home from the not so far away college campus on weekends feeling the separation even though I was very involved in this "new life".

I met my husband at college. It was at a center on campus that had a Ping Pong table and I was learning and loving this sport where two or four could use both mental and physical abilities.

He was from an area close to where I lived, had a car and drove back to see his parents and his youngest sibling almost every weekend. 

It was early in our "relationship". I went along for the ride each time he drove "home". Looking back, from the beginning of our relationship we both had close ties to family; it was part of the "building blocks" of a relationship surviving being apart.

I still marvel at how he was able to get four people's weekend luggage into a really small car. Over the years we shared together I continued to be surprised by his capabilities and how our interests, our abilities, complimented one another and built our life together.

First Semester ended. Home for the holidays. We shared time with his family and with my Mom. Then, life changed, as suddenly as it would as we moved through our lives together. 

I remember opening the door to our apartment and seeing Mom  sitting by the phone with tears in her eyes and a handkerchief to wipe them away. Mom seldom cried. Throughout the long challenges she faced as a Divorcee I can't remember seeing her cry.

She told me my Dad had died. 

Although my Mom and Dad had been divorced for several years, we tried to keep where we lived private because he would get drunk and stand outside where Mom worked or where we lived, call her horrible names or try to get her to "come back to him".

I had reconnected with my father's family. "Grown Up" me still longed for the "Dad', the "Father", who didn't just call you "cute' names when he was sober. Those times became less and less the older I became, the more the "alcohol addiction" took over mind and body.

I wanted life to be different. A family. That's what we should have been. Together. But not living with the abuse Dad could not control.

I visited  him when I was told he was very sick and in a VA hospital. Cancer. Of the lung. Heavy smoker and heavy drinker do not make for a long life. 

He was thirteen years older than my Mom; he'd served in WWI, possibly a reason for the alcoholism-- what he saw, what he experienced. 

They were conscripting men who were much older during WWII, Mom was "older", no idea if she was trying to "help" him by getting married and soon became pregnant with me, believe she cared about him, loved him, just couldn't accept his "sickness".

Mom was a divorcee when her marriage to Dad ended. 

Another title in life that carries a list of society's tags. Was she also a "widow"? In her heart I believe she was because through it all I know she loved him, cared about him and truly wished he would change. 

She'd married for life, I believe. 

She could have remarried although at the time being into her 40's it was not nearly as common as today. As she said, "I know what I have now; don't want to walk that path again."

Widowhood. How do you wear this "new" identity? 

 To wear or not wear your wedding rings. 

To become "Ms" instead of "Mrs" was not a choice "back then".

To catch the glance of women you know as they hold on tighter to the arms of their husbands, out of concern you might have something "catching" that might enter into their lives. I saw them, the way they looked at my Mom.

After all, if they don't take precautions by holding on tightly to what they have, they might become like you..... 

Hurricanes and rainbows.  

Torrential rains and bright, clear, sunshine. 

Chaos and peace.

Advice. Always more advice on areas of life. 

Other people who know so much more than you.

Widowhood somehow makes a woman less competent -- if she was ever viewed as truly being capable, that is.

As always my life focus, I went to a bookstore believing I'd find books written on "being a widow" as though it was a profession or hobby one would write about.

Deep down I'm sure I was losing my life balance and looking for something to hang on to, to support me and to give me insight into where I was going, in what directions I might be traveling.

If it was only that simple. Like baking a cake, fixing a piece of equipment or going to school -- direction, guideance, focus from those who have "gone before" and prepare you for what's to come.

What I found?  Being a Widow comes with either a capital "W" or a lower case "w". It is the major part of your life or a constant part.

Widowhood isn't a popular subject.  

After all....who wants to write about endings......

Parenting: A Lifetime Challenge

How To Win A Disagreement when you're on the wrong side of the truth:

• Throw distractions in comments and remarks mentioning life occurrences so far in the past it takes time to bring them forward into the "thinking" part of the brain
• Hurl insults that aren't accurate and use language that blames, insults and includes numerous accusations
• Explode your power through cc's and direct sends to everyone of email messages altering and leaving out "segments"  & "sections" showing reality & truth
• Involve everyone even if it doesn't affect them directly
• It's your job to ensure confusion and promote negativity 

"Kids say the darndest things' is a quote from a talk show host who had a part of his show "interviewing" very young school age children who sat on chairs on the stage of his TV program in the earlier days of television.

Art Linkletter, Host of the show, moved beside each one with a microphone (a necessity back then) and asked each a question. He listened and watched. 

He often knew just the remark that might get a really interesting answer -- one the audience would laugh about but sometimes the parents would cringe and possibly "lecture" their child once home.

My oldest son takes a twist on this "funny" approach to communication. 

He uses "loaded language" to ensure conflict and continuing discord.

Unlike Mr Linkletter, my son isn't "putting on a show" but he is using children to get a response from his audience and in some ways they're both guilty of taking innocence and using it as a tool to get notoriety and recognition. 

Bright. Capable. Not to say the others weren't, he was just "the first" and therefore almost always "led the way" in terms of what was offered, what was given and what was done.

Eduation: Early start. Toddler. As soon as he was "toilet trained" which was 18 months. He walked at 8 months. Yes, walked, not tried, not stood -- walking....and almost running.

Sports: What's your interest? What would you like to try? 

He named it, we provided it. And, of course for the other two as well. 

We were "those" parents of the 70's and onward; there with the hand and the wallet outstretched. 

Grateful we still had a world; we were born mostly after, and some during, WWII.

We were children of the Post War era; parents who'd lived through the Depression; many started the movement to the suburbs; all wanted a better life for their children.

What do you want?  All you have to do is"ask".

What do you need? When do you need it? 

How high do you want me to jump, how many times?

How far do you want me to bend over backwards?

We'll go out and get all the equipment tonight after my challenging day working, we'll write a check for the membership/dues/donation -- whatever it takes, son/daughter, after all, we do it "for you".

Interested in computers? Science? Drama? Whatever! 

We Are Here For You to "in attendance" from acknowledging 

your first words and steps to your first date with wallet in hand.

Two jobs at once I'm trying to work. Trying times. We sat in lines on specific days to get whatever amount of gas was allowed, shortages, concerns -- but always believing "this too shall pass". Our lives were lived for "you", each of you.

Your brother has similar wants and needs.

I'll find the time. Make the time. 

For you, for him.
Enter a little baby sister. MUCH older Mom and Dad.

We'll make it, we always do somehow, we work together, with & for one another, that's who we are, that's"family".

 

College? Right! Take your pick. 

We can't afford some but we'll find a way to get you THE BEST.

 

We'll take on debt.

Years later.....you'll say you paid your entire way through.

REALLY?  We have the bills and the receipts.

When you came home to "reorganize" your way of thinking and applying yourself at college at their request  . . and returned. . . we took up the slack and the additional cost of your "lost" benefits because of poor grades. 

You'd had a job in local restaurant; we provided a car; you were paid and you received tips. 

Nothing offered or came from you for the time at home. 

No offer to pay for anything.

No mention of how much you made. 

We helped you get "readmitted". 

We gave you a monthly stipend.

 

You "needed" furnishings for your room. We bought them. Clothing? Got it. 

Want to "build" a special loft for your room. Consider it done.

Found a cat and took it in? Shots and food? 

Sure, we can help.

Fell out of a high window and needs to see a vet -- got it!

Visiting meant going to the grocery store and anywhere for anything you "needed".

 

We now had two of you at the same school but you didn't seem to notice -- and your sister who deserved a life -- but she probably embarrassed you coming many years later. 

We're in town, we buy it, if you tell us you "need" it, "want" it or it  will make "your life" easier. 

Rent a truck to cart the materials "to Your place".

When Summer roles around, we pay for the storage of that and other "college items" until you head back for another year of "fun" and "games" and some studying.

You need a car at school? 

Well, it's less expensive than flying you home for breaks.

Here, son, take mine. 

You drove where? What? Why? A little "romantic getaway".

You visited a cousin but no one ever told us about your "travels". 

How thoughtful of them. How deceitful of you. 

You lived off campus. It was hundreds of miles to get back "home". We thought you'd matured, grown, had common sense.

We were so wrong, so very wrong.

And that was only one time you "used" us and "used" your privilege for "self gain", no thought for or about others and certainly no respect for the sacrifices of your family.

That car was supposed to be given to your brother, attending the same college, who had two more years to go. 

But that didn't matter to you, the golden boy, the always being given what was meant to lead to a dream future but ended up building a multi level nightmare for your immediate family.

FAST FORWARD. More than a decade passed. Ups & downs. 

A marriage we did not attend because there was no regret, no feeling of shame about striking me down and your father, causing my teeth to be broken and others to be cracked. 

There were many actions and practices dishonoring your Grandmother, my mother, by both of you. 

When it came to the "wedding" after being told you were "Already married. You'd shared the Eucharist, had sex and there was nothing we could do about it-- after during a visit your "friend" took her birth control pill in front of me, Mom and your sister. Really?

And then there was the physical assault.

You "came to visit" unannounced, walking through the back door, she was outside in the car.

Demanding, accusing, verbally abusing

Storming out the front door

Your father working in the yard

I'd had all I could take of the abuse,

You and she, separately and together, provided

No respect for us, none for your Grandmother

You wanted what you wanted and you wanted it NOW.

I threw some words, you ran at me throwing your fists

Teeth on both sides of my mouth were broken

Your father tackled you; you beat on him,

You ran away as She started the car calling to you to "Get In!' 

No care or concern for us, your Grandmother or little sister. You both fled to "sanctuary", a nearby Church on the campus of where you went to school. 

Over the years, you take a "family" picture standing near the altar of a Church. Reminds me how we learned with Mom's challenges how deceitful and yet "pious" people can be.

You'd totally crossed over to a dark side where all that mattered was what you/what she wanted and were determined to get.

Wondering if you've shared this with your children, two are grown, at least with them?

Putting off repeat dental work due to financial challenges and being told, I should have gotten that done years ago". I did. It only lasts for a number of years and then must be redone.

We struggled to cope financially, physically and emotionally after using everything we had to care give for two immediate family members -- my husband/your father; my mother/your grandmother who lived with us since just after you were born.

Thanks, son, for loading on the guilt when it was already piled high by circumstances you create with something always setting you off. 

Then came the "taking home your toys so we couldn't play anymore" action. Only these are human beings, they grow up and some want/need truth and not just "being told". 

One has decided to seek & find. Just hope she someday realizes time is not infinite and she has a life of her own.

Your removing any and all contact with the children you began to have. Started with the first. Went on for a while. We came back together, not close, but communicating and meeting in your brother's home when we visited.

This is the third time, if I recall correctly. 

Five children now. He's a pre-teen or teen -- I can't bear the weight so I don't think about it. It's survival against more attacks and using the "children" as pawns.

We weren't told you were "expecting".

Or when the baby was born

If it was a boy or girl (a boy), a name or anything. 

This time the split was over your father and my gravesite. 

The one you manipulated into controlling completely and you ensured you had the sole right to owning the burial plot and the erection of a monument. (Added JAN 2024: burial Jan 2011)   

I emailed you I could't find the grave and how a marker really needed to be put up.

You responded, "If you want it so bad, do it yourself".

I will, just as I did for my Mother, your grandmother, I will.

What lies you tell about what you do. 

Like your grandfather, my father. 

You are self centered. 

You are focused on what you want.

Not helping family, not seeing needs, not caring.

I never understood my father and his self centered actions and I never will understand yours.

How sad you chose a woman who supports your actions,  perhaps encourages them. She gains, after all, more power over you. That's hard to write. Sad to write. 

I read letters you sent to us before you "hooked up" with her.

Between the lines I see you were "ripe" to be picked by someone who would accompany you on paths away from and towards what she wanted, what she needed.

I've often wondered. Wondered about her brother, who died of an overdose. Who had a mother who was a Nurse.

I admit I did not see what you were doing and had done but I cannot understand how a mother with a Nursing degree cannot see someone on drugs. Or, did she try and fail as I did with you?

I heard she passed recently and I'm sad for the loss even if I never understood how and why she did nothing during all the years that passed. It's also sad to think about, but was it her plan, also, no matter the cost, to get you alongside daughter?

Finding letters you wrote. 

Before "She" came into your life.
They weren't angry. They weren't hostile. 

They included some choices I see now as detrimental but saw then as "typical college student" and "typical first born".

Close your eyes. You can't see. 

You can be seen. You believe you cannot. 

When will you learn. When will you see.

When will you know the future depends on the past

Time will continue to pass. You have choices. 

When will you see truth and accept it?

I continue to have hopes my grandchidren will see and live in the light not choosing to move into the darkness.

Ghost Houses Destroy Neighborhoods

There's a movement to "discard"or "devalue" items from the past, or just the opposite, to place a "must have" on it when it seems to be in "short supply". 

Many are on line "demeaning" the "lifestyle" of the Boomer generation ridiculing how they live, what they've valued.    

The inexperienced in many life challenges and losses believe it's "their right" to create "ultimatums" for older generations they want to "give up, get out" of their homes and move into rented "apartments" or "facilities". 

Many are shouting on line about not finding homes to buy; how "expensive" they are and how "old people" are living in them when they want the space.

Builders have focused on building Apartments in the hundreds of thousands; look around and ask who will move there? 

Many members of the socio economic/investment focused "family building generation" of today are repulsed by the thought of the "enclosed space" and coping with kids running around inside where they're trying to "remotely work".

As in all societies, attack is usually made on what is perceived as "the vulnerable" and in human society, it's often the older segment.

The very young do not hold title to homes; the "aging" have built and renovated properties in desired locations.

This Next Generation of "followers" believes what they hear if they "feel" good about what's on their devices. 

The "old ways" have no value, the focus is on "me".

THE TUBE aka a screen large or very small has evolved from being black and white to "living colors", limited time/selection of channels to 24/7, reception from local to  around the world.

Evolving into a sleek, lightweight, carry everywhere, in the form of a "laptop" or "mobile phone", in "color", available on almost all parts of the Globe.

Anyone can decide what's "news", what's "entertainment", can "build a following" through becoming a "creator" and no responsibility to be honest or accurate.

Constant, continuous, non-censored for the most part, mega channels, with zillions of opportunities to see, search, listen and -- to be influenced.

In today's world, it's how you look and sound and what you say is presented to the "listener" the "viewer" accepts and "likes".

Available whatever time, whenever, however, with little regard for accuracy, reliable source or even TRUTH.

REALITY CHECK 

Boomers may be "empty nesters" but so are many Gen X who are in their 50's and beyond and productively producing and able to "switch housing" and "downsize".

Why uproot Boomers? Chances are their Homes may need more "investment" to be "livable" for you as they usually have one or maybe two residents who may no longer have the "income" or the "interest" in renewing, replacing, reconstructing a home they've lived in for many decades.

REALITY CHECK: If you research, and you should --   

It's not another generation creating housing shortages, it's individuals and companies  "investing" in a new marketplace -- short term rental properties.

Rental "vacation" homes are the hottest commodity and "investors" are taking advantage of this "gold mine" buying properties in cities, towns, "vacay" locations.

Sitting idle, possibly not maintained until the "Season" reoccurs, and almost certainly not continuously occupied, Ghost Houses are a challenge to a "home hungry" population. 

They're also causing challenges for Cities where forms of "occupation" are adding to the problems within a community as they're not being used for "couple" or "family" vacations but for illicit, illegal, highly profitable means.

You, my young friends, have proven to be the greatest ally of those who want what you want, to buy a house, to use for "their purposes" and "their wants and needs". 

And, you possibly feed it directly through "valuing" those "vacation homes" when you don't understand you're causing rising prices in the market AND eliminating home ownership by couples and families like yours.

Learn from History. read and study economics and business along with viewing TikTok and other sites.

You're intelligent and have access to great information at your fingertips. I had to hunt through paper card files, stacks of books and magazines.

City and County records in print in large books stored in rows with difficult to read titles, "on special request" often taking days and weeks to fulfill.

I believed then as I do today,  provable facts were critical to knowing and understanding truth versus conjecture or innuendo. 

Love of the product these "merchants" provide feeds the flame of investment buyers to satisfy your craving for "vacation homes" for you and "your friends".

YOU are the resource for their income and gain and the problems of finding available and affordable housing.

YOUR "short term use" of a house and the hundreds of thousands of others who want the same, are determining the housing market availability -- NOT GRANDPARENTS LIVING TOO LONG IN HOMES.

If you LOVE A HOMESTAY and will pay the price believing you're getting a bargain, this New World will "bite you in the XXX" because it will continue to affect supply and demand for housing.

YOUR COMPETITION loves the fact you've found the target they've convinced you is the problem.

Predators have always focused on "the more vulnerable".

So, it's a life lesson, if you want to learn. Remembering a short musical message, "Teach, your children well . . . " 

Will this pattern continue following the path of being indulgent, self-serving parents who believe "only the best" and "you and yours deserve whatever you want" ?

Will you be the generation who failed to see the reality of socio economic change through spending habits directing investment into areas directly affecting your neighborhood, city and farther?

It will soon be your turn, Parents, when your grandkids tell you to give up not only your home but your car, your trips, your lifestyle and more, because they deserve it.

It's what you taught and they became accustomed to -- getting what they want, when they want it, the way they want it.

You had the "privilege" of home ownership, doesn't matter it's "your home', it's what and where your kids want to live and it's time for YOU to move on. 

Explore, expand, most of all spend; when you no longer have that "inheritance money" your kids are counting on -- be prepared for the angry comments thrown your way.

Old sayings:   The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Tree &

                         What Goes Around, Comes Around

            

Stopping Manipulation and Control

Evaluating an action to be taken, I consider alternatives.

When the path is blocked, I attempt to go around, beside, between and look for ways providing smoother transition with less challenges for  myself and others.

Would that were always possible to get needed results.  

In a “perfect world” where the situation, the people, the times were all in sync, perhaps results would be different.

Continuing to allow the "status quo" put in place by my oldest son disrupts, displaces and decomposes life for me. 

Harm intentionally done to someone without care or consideration of the action or effect is what I've undergone since discovering the deceit of my oldest son.

He does not stand alone. 

His accomplice stands mostly silent and will most probably disclaim involvement although she participates actively through her refusal to speak up, speak out and change the situation.

I sound negative and some would say "vindictive". 

They can and do live whatever life they choose that does not directly affect my life and my daughter's.

I've tried various approaches and considerations. 

I’ve sustained injuries, losses and setbacks.

If truth and right were foremost, there would be no problem. Instead we deal with egos, feelings and self before others.

When others are involved, when they stand to lose at whatever cost in time, money or possible damage or injury, I have always taken a stand, fought the battle for however long. 

Growing older we still react, we still respond but we have that “history” behind us with many “what if’s” based on knowledge of what “has been”. I've not wanted to take action but feel time is of the essence. My life has been disrupted since my discovery and that was just a couple of months after my husband's death. January this coming year marks the sixth year of his passing. 

Am I a warrior? Do I seek causes? They come into my life. I don't always see them for the amount of time they will take, the level of involvement and the life experiences and challenges that will follow. Do any of us truly see the future in the present? 

Called to action. Shown the way. Given the choice. Now I'm faced with another decision. With possibilities and with probabilities.

When does a parent stop taking a grown child’s manipulation and control?

Tried to ensure no stone was left unturned as he grew from an infant into adulthood. Afraid, perhaps, not clearing the way, not providing the opportunities he would become like my father, a man lost inside of himself with only a bottle for comfort.

I’ve lived the life. I’ve seen the challenges. I cannot say I truly know or understand my father. My son once asked me to tell him about my father because he’d heard I’d said when he was born how much he looked like my father -- blue eyes and blond hair from two parents with dark hair, one with green eyes and one with hazel.

Genetics. You’re going to look like someone, usually, you’re related to. 

We have choices. We make decisions. We are in many ways the artists of our lives creating the finished work which time and circumstance put before us.

My son lacks empathy. He does not go outside of himself to consider how I felt, being the first in the line from my father, make that the third as he was married before my Mom and somewhere there are two others who called him “Dad”.

He does not consider it’s not about being male or female, it’s about being human.When there is a parent with questionable behaviors it doesn’t matter if they’re male or female or you are male or female, growing up you wonder if you, too, will live your life or succumb to whatever they did to become who they were. 

My son, like so many, is too “self focused”. 

He needs to reorient. I tried. We tried. 

While given many privileges, some would say far more than we should have, he was also given direction, a foundation and life tools. He chooses, he selects, he lives the life he creates. As with many, he chooses what to use, what to pick up and what to set aside.

I will continue to consider what actions to take, when and how. 

It has been a long Winter of life.

When my husband passed, I wrote about feeling like my life was in “jello” – shaken,disturbed and feeling the effects like a constant earthquake accompanied by tsunami’s, hurricanes and tornadoes. 

I knew the sun was there somewhere but the darkness hung like drapes in rooms where they were heavy, musty and always shut to block the sun, the view, the world beyond.

Now, I am gaining the strength to complete a task I started with my oldest son.  

It will most probably be a path I’m forced to walk because he is not a person of reason, a person who wants to communicate, someone who has the ability to set self aside and consider others first.

He is not alone. He walks this path of life with the support of another. It is his choice; it is their choice. Both believe they are moving through life together when they are actually in two separate orbits overlapping.

I cannot chose to support actions that negatively affect the lives of others. It is not just me who is directly affected by his words and actions, he also negatively affects his sister's life as he did his entire birth family for decades.

The decisions he has made will continue to be abusive to me and to others until it is changed. 

I know I must be the agent of change and yet I know the journey will be one I would prefer not to take.

Once I begin, this time I must continue until the resolution removes the abuse and returns my rights directly to me, not through him.

Hard to write this entry at a time when we are supposed to be “full of joy” and words of “peace on earth” come to mind.

A year is ending. Another beginning. 

An awakening of self. 

A rerouting in my life's journey.

Originally Written Dec. 22, 2016.      10:50 AM

Ten Years Saving For Mom's Headstone

After my husband's passing we were struggling; almost losing everything we'd valued, worked so hard to obtain.

Daughter and I pulled together, working minimum wage jobs, only one car, making it work through intricate planning and my taking "assigned jobs for a placement service" often involving late afternoons/evenings, daughter working 9 to 5.

Financial and other crisis followed us every step of the way but we were determined to make the journey, whatever it took to move from where we were, to where we've arrived.

I was finally able to afford a deposit to create a Tombstone for my Mom's grave; she passed in her 100th year. It took eight years of putting away small amounts and getting out from underneath a mountain of debt.

I found what I thought was "perfect" for Mom-- she loved the color red, and in Missouri, we have a special red granite. 

It's limited, however, in being mined year to year, and we were told it would take two years or possibly a little longer until the stone was available and could be mined and carved.

After showing a picture and a sample of the red granite to my daughter, she agreed it was "the perfect choice". 

I saved some money I'd put aside from hourly wage jobs I took for daughter and me to survive. 

After showing the plans to my second son, who made a   side trip through our area on a business trip, and getting his approval, I made the deposit and the months passed.

We were family, making a decision we felt would forever tell those who visited her grave how much she was loved and meant to us, her family of decades.

Unfortunately, my oldest son was not included as he'd decided some years ago to remove any contact with me,       with his children, my grandchildren.

It's sad and unfortunate. I sent a message to his oldest son, after he turned 21, through LinkedIn. I'd hoped we could connect now that he was an adult. That was not his choice.

There are four others. Second oldest is studying Media & Journalism; perhaps she'll learn to see clearer than her brother.

My husband's passing before my Mom was like a knife cutting into me. 

Caregiving for two critically ill people at home and unable to work, trying to live on Savings and Social Security was . . . "challenging" isn't a strong enough word.

When Mom passed, I felt like someone reinserted the knife and twisted it.  

There were three years in between but it felt like three decades as we encountered The Church Lady I've written about in a previous part of this blog.

Death comes to all but it's how it comes that can create an upside down, inside out world where you can't find an exit and don't remember where/when the entrance actually opened.

The loss of two immediate family members, with whom you've lived for decades, is difficult to put into words. 

When it's complicated by events causing pain and suffering for the entire family unit, it's like a sore that keeps opening wider and wider.

Family is a unit that grows stronger each day when nurtured as ours was or apart when actions over years continue to cut deeply, as with my first son.

When one member passes, everyone feels the change and struggles in their own way to move forward. Our "separation" although attributed by first son to "me" was "my fault", actually began years before from his actions.

The loss of a beloved spouse of decades when you believe it could have been less traumatic with better medical care. .  

The loss of a beloved parent with whom you spent four decades as a multi-generational family, even though they pass in their 100th year. . . .

IS FOREVER LIFE CHANGING.

Mom was buried as she wanted, in a small town cemetery, on a small hill, not inside church grounds, with three generations of various immediate family members and other relatives.

When we began this journey to place her stone, we'd been visiting her gravesite at least once a year. We would visit my husband's gravesite and place flowers for him and some on Mom's grave for her. 

Sadly, we visited twice this last year as we recently buried one of my cousins, who Mom helped bring into this world decades ago and years before I arrived.

His Dad was fighting in European battlefields during WWII, his Mom had two other young children. I'm not sure I remember correctly but think Mom said the Doctor couldn't come, so she delivered the baby, my cousin, now buried a short walk over from where Mom rests.

He was remembered for all the ways he helped others in his small town and his love of playing the trumpet. Like his father and uncles, music was his second language.

Just a few weeks ago the call came. The Headstone was going to be carved and ready to be set on Mom's grave. 

Paid the balance. Stone was set in place. Second son came from the East Coast for two days to travel with daughter and me into the neighboring State where Mom requested to be laid to rest, along with generations in her family including her parents.

Mom wanted to be with her "first family" and so she is. I will be in another place. She made the decision long before I  was married. I honor her choice. 

Influencers Everywhere Truth Hard To Find

Old World. New Incarnation.   

As a kid I heard many.

Derogatory words 

Thrown by other kids.

Pig Palotta. Meant as an insult.

Yelling at the top of their lungs.

From a brother and sister 

Who lived a few doors down the street 

From our second floor, coal heated, cold water flat.

 

Thinking today it was because my last name 

was German in origin and theirs Italian. 

Understanding now what a child did not know 

about War, Invasion, Death, Destruction.

We moved when I was about nine years old. 

As years passed, many moves were made.

Major life challenges occur, 

Not all memories are clear, 

Concise or maybe even accurate.

Adults Used Truth Twisting

Envy. Plain and simple. 

Meant to Ridicule. Demean.. 

All to raise One to a level

Higher than another.

 

Back then, to get the “full effect”, 

You had to be in close proximity.

In today’s world you can be 

Anywhere On the Planet,

Time Zones are irrelevant.

 

AI developed with hopes of building 

a “better” and “more unified” world.

Now, it’s often the tool of many to demean one. 

Hiding or plain sight. It’s quick, it’s fast.

It’s easy to be seen & heard. 

Not just by one person 

By thousands or even millions. 

 

What’s old is new. 

What goes around, comes around. 

Not good. Not right. Not building. 

Tearing down.

 

Verbal ammunition.

Aimed specifically to harm.

Giving the abuser the ability

To “raise” the number 

Of onlookers

And -- participants.

 

Remove? 

Doesn’t halt. 

Raise Awareness?

Bullies have never listened

They have no concern

 

Click In. Click Out. 

Entertainment or Food For Thought.

True or False.

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