Tonight, only a few moments after our celebratory cheers and noisemaking, my oldest daughter, as she drifted off to sleep belted out, “2012, We will never, ever, ever be getting back together.”
I chuckled. I continued on about my business of making sure my home was picked up and secure. I have guests crashing on couches and in extra beds throughout the house. There was a great deal of Martinelli’s flowing tonight, and for the first time in years, some fireworks after the Times Square ball dropped. It was wonderful evening, spent with the people who saw me through the most difficult parts of 2012. I couldn’t imagine celebrating without them. Read the rest of this entry
I must confess. I have not been up late at night…much…lately. I’ve been sleeping very well and feeling good when I wake up the next day. Never mind that I was sick for two weeks with food poisoning. My bills are paid. There is food in my cupboards. And there’s a wee little bit to offset the unexpected thing that might come up. It is amazing how having a little extra cash in the bank and a car that is reliable changes one’s outlook on life. It’s also pretty incredible how that makes it easier to sleep. It’s been a good month. Or rather, a good couple of weeks. I can’t complain. And I won’t start now, even though, life has turned on the proverbial dime for me, once again. Read the rest of this entry
On Facebook, it is the monthly ritual, for a great number of my “friends” to complain about how quickly the money they worked for all month disappears when they pay the bills. I understand this. I empathize with this sentiment, but this is not how I feel about payday. Read the rest of this entry
There are rare occasions when I find myself wide awake in the wee hours of the night, but the reason does not originate from the stress in my life. I’m not awake because I can’t sleep. I’m awake, instead, because I have slept and quite soundly. Such was the case this morning.
I’ve already been up and made coffee, silenced my alarm before it could sound, wandered around the house checking in on each of my four sleeping children. The cats, nocturnal, vaporous beings that they are, slink past me, around me, as I move through the house, like water around boulders in some ethereal stream.
This morning I’m waxing reflective about the journey my little family has been on for the last 12 years. I ponder the heartbreaks, the tragedies, the disappointments, the obstacles, the defeats. Read the rest of this entry
So, go figure. My finances suck. We’ve been over that. My love life is non-existent. I just had a guy I supported walk out on me after two years. He gave me three days’ notice and he was gone. Haven’t heard a word from him since. After my two epic fails at marriage, I don’t know which hurt worse, to have the marriages end, or him walk out after I invested so much financially and emotionally for two.fucking.years. It is now all water under the bridge, but at times, it still stings.
I’m at an age and in a demographic where there isn’t much dating action, and if there is, it isn’t serious, nor is it even remotely authentic. Face it, after 45, there are so many obstacles to overcome, so much history to wade through, so many people’s scrutiny you have to undergo before a relationship can even be viable, let alone long term. I’ve given up on that area of my life ever being a source of pleasure or happiness. People who really know me, will know what a big deal that is. Most people tend to understand that it is the nature of the beast these days. Dating after divorce is, at best, a difficult thing, and unlike wine, this does not improve with age. Oh, to be 35 again. Before the wrinkles. Before the mistakes. Before the calendar reveals the stigmatizing number of years you’ve been on this planet (because you cannot lie about that).
In spite of all that, the little surprise I’m experiencing is this: I’m actually having fun. I’m enjoying life more than I ever have. I’m happy, in spite of the fact that nothing (except my delightful children) is as I would have expected it and most of it reeks of pathetically miserable failure. I can’t keep a relationship. I can’t catch a break financially. I rent, on purpose, instead of owning. My car is ready to self destruct at any moment. I should sell the thing and try, if possible, to get some money out of it to put down on a more reliable car. But…how to do that? It’s crazy. I have more problems facing me than solutions. I have experienced more endings in the last year than beginnings. I have more reason than ever to despair, instead of hope. Read the rest of this entry
I’ll cut to the chase. I’m an idiot. Who signs up on an online dating sight at the most busy time of their professional and personal year? I do. Like I said…I’m an idiot. I admit it. I have only one excuse. I was three sheets to the wind when I did the signing up. Yep. Had one of those down days. One of those days that proves living a block from the local liquor store is not necessarily the benefit you might think it would be. I don’t know the particular circumstances. I think I successfully drank them out of my memory. I just remember it was one of those days, which, for whatever reason I was feeling blue about the whole situation that transpired in my life recently. Actually, I wasn’t really feeling blue about that situation if the truth be known. I was feeling blue that I’d wasted the last two years of my youth on the man. Okay, enough with the drama. It is also very possible that I was feeling happy. I feel that a lot these days. In fact, I almost get giddy with the lack of stress and the ease with which my family functions right now. No more walking on eggshells. No more having to ask permission or wonder when the next derisive comment is going to come. No more worrying about money. Since I’m not paying his bills, there’s an extra amount in our coffers this month, and that makes me genuinely silly with the giddy factor. Read the rest of this entry
Tonight, I lie awake. The moon, this late in August is almost full, the second full moon we will have this month; a blue moon, they say. The light floods the deck outside my bedroom, illuminating everything in a beautiful blue glow that can only be seen and appreciated in the wee hours, on nights like these, but only if you are one of the fortunate ones who cannot sleep. I have my own beautiful, exquisite dreamland right outside the slider leading to my deck. As the moonlight streams down onto my personal paradise, as I gaze from my bed out onto the deck, I think, “If I felt better, I would go out there and enjoy that beauty.” Instead, I remain in bed and I wince with each movement. Tonight, my back is killing me. I can’t get comfortable. I’m in pain.
If there isn’t emotional pain going on, then someone, somewhere is hurting physically. It is the way of this life. While it is true that we learn and grow and deepen during our times of suffering (if we are paying attention), I’m not sure that I like this particular aspect of suffering that I am enduring. When I was younger, I could do anything or nearly anything with no consequences. I mean, really, almost anything. Today, I attempted the “almost anything.” I moved a tree from the tree store into the back of my vehicle. I then moved the tree from the back of my vehicle to the driveway of my place. I then attempted to move this tree, with only a little help from one of my children, from the driveway clear around the house to the back deck. The tree? A Japanese Maple, as tall as I am and a little bit wider. This did a number on my back. Years ago, I could have done all this activity with no consequences, but these days, I pay for every bit of effort I expend. My currency is pain and sleeplessness.
This year has been filled with pain for me. Six days into it, I was diagnosed with early stage breast cancer. I have four children, three of them at home, the oldest is not yet fully launched. What horrible timing. Pain. I have had more financial struggles this year than I’ve had in a good, long while. Another car blew an engine. That’s a deductible I couldn’t afford to spend the family grocery money on. And in the professional work realm, I encountered a year that I would put up there with my top three worst years in the world of work ever. Add to this, uncovered medical expenses which I am still paying off, and a boyfriend who suddenly decides to take off without giving me notice. I mean, I thought we were working on forever, and it turns out that he was only working on him and his kids and I was the stepping stone. Pain. Pain. Pain.
And with it, regret.
But tonight…I’m in a different kind of pain and it isn’t emotional.
Physically, my body is killing me. It is punishing me for the work I expended today to create some additional beauty in my world. Beauty that was worth the pain I am experiencing now, because if I’d known I was going to feel this way afterward, I would have still moved that tree single-handedly onto my back deck. It is so worth it to me. And, as I lie here in physical pain, pain that Vicodin was created for, I think this: My body hurts, but my psyche does not. While my body screams in agony and I cannot get comfortable, if I am honest I have to say, that, in spite of my recent experience of being abandoned faster than most people cash in on a lottery winning, I am doing okay.
And okay is okay.
I’m not happy about the fact that my love life is nonexistent, and likely to be so for a very long time. (Actually, if I can’t have the Gone Boyfriend, I’m okay with this. I just don’t want to go to the effort.) I’m not happy about the fact that I’m likely to attend all of my children’s monumental events in life…alone…while their other parents attend these very same events happily married with a second or third spouse. Yeah, what kind of loser must I be? Pain.
In spite of all of this, here is what I know: I am okay with me. I haven’t settled. I haven’t compromised. I am the one I have to wake up to each morning, and, for the most part, I am content with who I am and what choices I’ve made. Sure, I’d love to rewind life several decades and make some different choices, but those different choices would eliminate certain people from my life that I simply find I cannot do without. So, I’m okay with the choices that I would re-do, under other conditions. I’m okay with where I am right now. I don’t like a lot of my current reality, but I’m okay with most of it.
I’m good with the the fact that I’m able to provide for my children, that we are surviving and thriving in an economy where many are struggling.
I’m so grateful for all the people in my life who’ve given me hugs, emotionally and otherwise in my most painful moments and who, in spite of my drama, still care to call themselves my friend.
I’m grateful for a career, that while stressful and imperfect, enables me to provide for my family without having to depend on someone else…and to do so…reasonably well…and which allows me to make a difference in the lives of very important people who will someday make decisions that affect us all.
I’m grateful for a Japanese Maple…or two…on my back deck that will provide me with some beauty and a peaceful respite for some years to come. If I can just enjoy the beauty of a tree and a moonlit night, I think I just might always be content.
I’m in pain, but I’m content with my lot. I’m good with this.
Home should be a refuge from the pain. I, thankfully, have this refuge in my life.
I can’t complain…but…you know I will…just because….it makes a great story!
I was sitting there, in the Dairy Queen, waiting for my daughter and her friend to come back from the bathroom. I felt a cold wet sensation on my side, my back, my arm, my thigh. I thought for sure that my daughter and her friend were playing pranks and throwing ice.
I turned to look at the offended locations on my body. Instead of ice, I saw, ketchup.
Disbelieving, I looked up to see you looking my way just as dumbfounded. As if you, in your wildest imagination, could not believe that you had dropped the ketchup, let alone that it landed all over me.
You were obviously embarrassed.
You fumbled. Desperately seeking to right a wrong that somehow strangely couldn’t be righted. You handed me all your napkins and there were many. You went to get water for me to use to wipe the red stuff off my attire. You were worried that you had damaged my fine attire. Never mind that I was wearing a discount skirt purchased from Ross Dress-For-Less and my bike shoes. Okay, the bike shoes were somewhat expensive, but you wiped them clean.
I, in return, was so shocked that I did not, I’m afraid, respond well at all.
You see, when I felt the cold liquid on my body and through my clothing, I was really certain, the girls were playing games. They’d been a bit silly all day and after a meal laden with carbs and chased by sugar in the form of soft serve ice cream cones, I was certain, they’d grabbed ice from the ice machine and were tossing it at me…for pranks.
My shock, Mr. Ketchup Guy, was not because I had ketchup on me, as much as it was because I did not have water or ice on me. I was stunned…but not for the reasons you supposed.
You hurriedly helped me clean up, then disappeared to your table on the other side of the dining hall. I walked by you on my way out, in shame, you didn’t even look up or glance my way.
Mr. Ketchup Guy, I owe you an apology.
You did not deserve my response today. Never mind that my response was not what you thought. I was not angry with you. I was not, though I’m certain I came off that way. You did not deserve to leave that place thinking you had offended me or angered me or upset me. You did not deserve to experience embarrassment.
I was just so completely stunned that my kids were not throwing ice at me, that it took me a bit to realize what was going on. You handled everything so smoothly and so well and so quickly, I didn’t have the time to tell you. Then, as I left the place, suspecting you still harbored some embarrassment about the entire episode, I failed to approach you and to thank you for the napkins and the water.
But it really wasn’t the napkins and the water that I’d have thanked you for.
It would have been for the courtesy, the chilvary, the emotion in the person that felt that spilling ketchup on a lady in a fast food restaurant was worth being addressed rather than ignored; that the incident was worthy of some embarrassment on your part.
Many would have acted like the incident never happened.
Thank you for not being one of the many.
Please accept my apologies for not letting you know how grateful I was for your response and for relieving any embarrassment you might have experienced as the result. I was amiss to not assure you that I was fine and the clothing washable, yes, even the expensive bike shoes.
It was clear to me that you are a gentleman, while I did not behave like much of a lady.
Thank you for being part of an endangered species rarely seen these days. I regret to think that I might have taken steps to hurry your kind closer to extinction.
Please forgive me.
Someone once stated, “All we have to fear is fear itself.” For the most part, I’d agree. I have my own statement about fear, “Fear never made a good decision.” Today, as I faced my first of 33 sessions of radiation, I wonder if facing the unknown isn’t also a valid enough cause for fear. By unknown, I don’t mean the unknown where the possible risks or consequences are relatively minor. I’m talking about the high stakes unknown where the risks are great and the consequences unknown or potentially damaging, lasting, or life threatening.
My life is a convergence of unknowns right now. This creates a great deal of stress for me. Stress is not good for our health and even more so with those dealing with cancer or pre-cancer. I liken my life to a vessel like the Titanic, which is large and carries the responsibility for the lives and futures of many. I’m not a control freak, but I do like to have my cake and eat it too, whenever possible. I like everyone to be able to do their life and attend all their events. With five or six schedules to deal with, this can be a challenge. I find that if I know in advance, I can usually plan things or get the needed help or money in order to make it all happen. As long as I know far enough in advance, I can maneuver around the icebergs in life and make sure it is smooth sailing for everyone.
When navigating icy seas at night, charting a course that is mostly unknown is, to me, terrifying in many ways. Of course, not many are gifted in seeing the future. This unknown is always with us, and for the most part, I don’t worry a bit about it. But today, lying in that treatment room, both arms frozen over my head, alone, with only the buzzing, clicking and spinning of a very large, intimidating, flat-faced one-eyed machine to keep me company, I felt my first really strong emotions since this whole breast cancer journey started. it wasn’t panic, but it was something close. It wasn’t fear, but it was something close to fear. There was great sadness there, too, along with wonder and a substantial dose of gratitude, which is always part of my emotional palette. Maybe it was just the fact that I was tied down in a room with a very large and intimidating machine that seemed to move of its own volition that spooked me.
The radiation treatment took barely 25 minutes from the time I walked in the building to the time I walked out. I feel nothing…yet. More blue ink drawn on me to ruin my clothing and, with no great fanfare, I’m off to a day of making life smooth for everyone; dodging icebergs along the way and retorting as needed.
But I’m scared.
What if I have made and am making devastating choices with irreversible consequences?
What if the results of these decisions, intended to make the sailing through life smoother for us all, actually make things worse?
And…the question that plagues me and can really make me crazy if I let it…what if…instead of getting better, things don’t ever get better…or they get worse?
Then of course, there are other unknowns, more practical ones.
What is my schedule for radiation treatment going to be? Will I need to take more time off? How will my body respond? Will I be able to continue work without having to take any time off? My last treatment is scheduled to be June 5. That is three days before the last day of school. How will this impact the rest of the school year? How long will the effects of radiation last and how will that impact my summer?
Then, there are issues about the school district discovering my recent move and insisting I complete an inter-district transfer, since my new address is out of the district where my two older children attend school. This gets tricky because it means both districts must approve the request. If they do not, then I have a daughter, who within seven weeks of graduation will have to face finishing her senior year at another high school. Now, I can’t imagine any school district official being so evil as to insist that this happen, but budgets being what they are, school districts are less likely to grant transfers than they have in the past. I will also have a son, who at the end of his sophomore year, will have to attend high school where they have none of the activities that he is currently involved in.
On a side note, you might wonder why I moved if the high school in the district I was moving to was inadequate. The move was a good one, for my youngest. The entire family, even the high-schoolers were, and still are, in favor of moving to where we moved. I just didn’t imagine the transfer issue would be a big deal. I’m now hearing that it could be. I don’t yet know. I filled out the paperwork and we will just have to wait and see. It’s an iceberg I can’t exactly dodge or move right now. I’m kind of hope it’s a mirage and it will evaporate as I approach.
Then there is the added stress of the Evil Ex seeking a modification of the child support. The unknowns here were more frightening until I met with my attorney this afternoon. I had to part with $150 hard earned dollars, but it was money well spent and good information I received. She was able to paint a picture of the worst likely scenario (bad, but not intolerable). She was also able to paint a realistic picture of what was likely to happen. This helps me chart the course through the iceberg strewn sea of Post-Divorce Dealings With The Evil Ex.
In other posts, I’ve mentioned the financial iceberg that creates stress as it slides along the ship that is our family. I worry that any day now an edge will puncture us and we will sink. For now, we remain afloat.
The icebergs continue to converge with no relief. One after another appears out of the fog of unknown possibilities and they are all frightening in their own way. I can’t do anything about them right now…I can’t even see them clearly enough to know which direction to turn the ship. All I can do is survive today. And after today, tomorrow. And after tomorrow, the next day. I hope that, by so doing, I will eventually find that I have successfully maneuvered my way through the icy currents I’m experiencing to warmer, more pleasant waters.