JellyBean Widow

I realized that this year was the 10th year without you. Ten long, hard, exhausting, scary years. Ten years of Christmases, Thanksgivings, birthdays (mine, yours and our daughters), and a host of holidays and special days. I’ve wanted to do a post all year but put it off because I was worried I didn’t have anything ‘profound’ to say (whatever that means). I’ve realized that grief is a powerful thing; almost a protective thing. There are blocks of time I don’t remember. So much time has passed and yet it seems like just yesterday. I read somewhere that the 10th wedding anniversary gift is tin or aluminum. It is supposed to represent the strength of the marriage. I suppose it could represent the strength I never knew I had to go on living without you; the strength you were so confident that I had. It could represent the strength I have had to maintain in raising our daughter. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you and us. What our family may look like now. Would you be gray? Would he have had more children? Would we have moved to a new house? So many questions.

Daily I ask for guidance and strength. The strength to go on and the guidance to parent a child alone. One day I woke up and realized that what I have been doing the last 10 years is surviving; not really living, just surviving. I’ve been in survival mode…just putting one foot in front of the other. I’m just now starting to not feel numb. Some days I feel lost. My distraction had been taking care of my daughter; now she is older and does not need me as much as she tries to figure out who she is. Now I think, “who am I and what do I want?” Initially these were very daunting questions; and while I’m still a little terrified, I’m also excited to see what the future holds.

There was a time when I thought I would never find love again, let alone get married. I believed that I had found my soulmate then lost him and that was it. I had resigned myself to a life of just raising my daughter and having close friends. A relationship was not in the cards for me. I felt like it would be betrayal. Like I wasn’t supposed to move on. Like somehow my late husband was staring down at me from above shaking his finger at me or giving me the evil eye. Like my life was supposed to stop.

One day (many years later) I decided that it was time…to at least give it a chance. I was lost. I was older and hadn’t dated in FOREVER. I missed my partner; my lifelong friend; my soulmate. I never tried to compare who I was dating to what I had lost. There was no comparison. But I found myself talking about my loss. I just wanted someone to listen. Turns out, that’s not what you do on a date…talk about your dead husband (somethings you have to find out the hard way). I’ve kissed a few frogs since then; none have turned into my prince charming (I say that because I already found my King). But I did something I never thought I could do: I slowly but surely survived. But I am by no means healed. Some days are more of a struggle than others. I had a nursing instructor tell me once that the one thing she could not give her students was time. I could read all the books, pass all the tests, pass my boards even, but when it came down to putting in the work, taking care of patients and feeling confident…that would take time. The same applies here. Time heals; time allows you to process. Time. The key is time.

I tried going to therapy. I was seeing a really nice lady. But as someone who had never gone to therapy, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know what the goal was. I went once a week and every time I went, I spent the entire session talking about the day I found out. I could be having a good week but Thursday (therapy day) would come and the entire week went down the toilet. I eventually sent the nice lady an email telling her I didn’t think it was going to work and I stopped going. I looked for support resources but never found what I was looking for (perhaps I didn’t even know). I didn’t want support groups (I’ve never been a group type person). So, I decided to just be ok (and we all know how that went). As I have mentioned before you cannot rush these things. You have to feel it and go through it. That is why I started writing and now sharing with others…in an effort to be open and honest with others who may have been were I was.

“I am not responsible for your happiness.” This is what I finally told my daughter one day after one of her pouting sessions because I said ‘no’ to one of her no doubt outlandish requests. This may be a ‘duh’ moment for some or an ‘a-ha’ moment for others. For me, it was one of the most freeing things I’ve done in a long time.

I used to be sad if my child was sad because I told her she couldn’t do this or that. I would tell any one of my friends or family members that happiness is a mindset, so why did I not feel the same when it came to my child? Her “happiness” gave me a false sense of security that everything was going well; but what was I teaching her? That you can always get your way if you throw a big enough fit? That everything in life will always go your way? I know children are manipulative to the extent that you allow them to be and one day I realized I was being played. My child knew that I was painful for me to say no to her and she exploited the hell out of that.

My dear daughter, the world will not always tell you yes and the world sure as heck doesn’t care about your happiness. So, I’ve found ways to teach her to be happy within herself (ongoing process), to be proud of herself…detached from the things I was saying yes to. Detached from her always getting her way.

I am not responsible for your happiness…but I am responsible for raising an upstanding, respectable member of society. I am responsible for providing you love, food and shelter and that you have the best education I can provide for. But I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE for spoiling you and contributing to you being an entitled brat. One of the most important lessons to learn is happiness comes from within and never give anyone else the power to affect your mood.

So who knew parenting was so difficult? Your kid comes to you and says somebody pushed them. My first instinct/thought should not be, “well push them back” (because violence is never the answer…right?) What do you tell your child when they say someone at school is making fun of them? Knowing that “snitches get stitches”, do you tell them to go tell the teacher? I don’t have the answers to these questions. What I’ve found is that most of parenting is on the job training and at the end of the day, I just need to give myself some grace.

You want your kid to be the one who sticks up for the less popular kid who gets picked on, but let’s face it, were we? Do we try to shelter our kids so they don’t feel the pain and heartache we did? Does this help them or hurt them? Are we unintentionally creating a generation of children who can’t cope with disappointment? Again, I do not have the answers to such thought provoking questions. What I can do is be mindful and present in the rearing of my own child and work to instill the habits of being a good human being. I feel like if we focus on raising responsible, compassionate human beings, all the rest will fall into place. I wonder how many other people struggle with the thought that they will screw up their kids?

I struggle almost daily with whether or not I am doing more harm than good. I feel like as mothers we should build each other up, not tear each other apart. There is no need to make excuses for how you choose to live your life. It’s ok to work fulltime (that doesn’t make you a bad parent), it’s ok to be a stay at home parent (it’s one of the hardest jobs ever) and all points in between. Not only do we need to give ourselves grace, but we need to extend that grace to each other.

I am guilty of believing that I am the only person who feels a certain way but what I have learned is that if I am feeling it, there is a safe bet at least one other person is feeling the same way or going thru the same thing. So I give myself, and now you, permission to say out loud what you feel/think/are going thru. For so long I have talked myself out of writing this blog; in fact, I still struggle (once I get in my own head, it is very difficult to get out of it) with feelings of insecurity and inadequacy. But as I have said and will continue to say, “if this helps at least one other person find their voice or find the light in an otherwise very dark space or to not feel completely alone, then I will be happy.”

I have to let go of the fear of not measuring up, the fear of being judged and the fear of getting it all wrong. I listen to a LOT of podcasts and something I heard (I wish I could remember who said it so I could give credit) that actually stuck with me because it was seemingly simple, yet powerful: “once you let go of the fear of getting it wrong, you will be amazed at your success” (paraphrased). Read. That. Again. It’s so true. As I struggle daily with being more present, this helps remind me to at least try. If the worst that happens is you get it wrong or you fail, so what? Think of all you have learned in the process. Something my child struggles with is the fear of failure, so much so that sometimes she doesn’t even try. In one of our many discussions on the matter, I asked her what she was really afraid of. She told me she was afraid of looking foolish or stupid in front of others. My advice to her was the above quote and I encouraged her to at least try. In not trying, you’re still not accomplishing anything and even if it doesn’t turn out how you hope, at least you learned a lesson, hopefully. (Of note, this is an ongoing conversation and I have seen small strides).

What do your bad experiences say about you? Have your struggles made you stronger? Weaker? There is no wrong or right answer…I don’t think. Maybe bad experiences shouldn’t change you, they should reveal who you really are (or who you could be).

Being a single mother and widow has shown me that I am much stronger than I ever imagined I could be. Losing the love of my life showed me that I have the courage and the strength to exist without a partner. I didn’t have a choice, really (well at least not the existence without a partner part). Courage was something I would find…eventually. The courage to trust myself and my judgement (an ongoing process) as well as my decisions. What I have noticed over time is that God did not ease my pain, he increased my strength.

Even in all my sorrow and grief, I’ve seen God’s hand on me and my life and although I may not have understood at the time, it has all worked out. From leading me to choose a great school for my daughter to purchasing a home independently to steering me in the right direction to find the perfect job once my daughter started school (to name a few, in no particular order).

What do you think your struggles say about you? What do you wish they said about you?

Where do I start? No one holds a mirror up to you as an adult quite like your child. As I have mentioned previously, if anyone is going to call bulls**t on the paradox between what you say and what you do, it will be your child. Some women say, “I’ve always wanted a child.” Honestly, I don’t ever remember consciously saying that but it was something I knew would innately happen. When I found out I was pregnant I remember fervently praying that you were not a boy. I also recall holding my breath when your dad and I were asked by the ultrasound tech “do want to know what you’re having?” Part of me didn’t want to know because I didn’t want to be disappointed if you weren’t a girl.

When I welcomed you into this world, it was one of the happiest days of my life (tied closely with the day I got married and the day I got my very first bike). Pregnancy and childbirth are perhaps two of the greatest miracles. How else would you explain something growing inside you for 9 months then emerging into the world with 10 fingers and 10 toes and the ability to scream their lungs out. There were so many emotions going on in me that day: joy, fear, love (to name a few). JOY for the life I had just brought into the world and for the family we were going to be. JOY that my husband and I had created this life and added to our family. I had never known the capacity for LOVE until I looked into your eyes. You were my heart personified. It’s difficult to explain the kind of love a mother has for her child. The kind of love that makes you vulnerable, more so than you could ever imagine. My literal heart was staring back at me and I was now responsible for a life. Many people take that lightly and do not appreciate the gravity of becoming a parent, but in that moment, I did. I experienced a deeper love for your father that we were in this together and every decision made would be made together. My love for you was and still is indescribable. FEAR. As deep and vast as my love for you was (and still is), fear was very prevalent that day. Fear that I would drop you; fear that I would not feed you enough; fear that I wouldn’t be a good enough mother (although I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant). Most of the fears were irrational but fears nonetheless. And now 11 years later, I still have fears. I fear this world will change your pure precious heart one day. There is so much I want to teach you and show you. I want to apologize for the times when I was physically present but not mentally or emotionally. I want to apologize for the times when I could barely tend to my own emotional needs and was thus unable to tend to yours.

When we lost your dad, I tried very hard to be ok for you. It was difficult putting one foot in front of the other most days. I tried to be there for you as best I could but to be honest, I feel like I fell short. There were times when I gave you whatever you wanted because I just couldn’t show up for you emotionally; I couldn’t give you what I didn’t have. I ‘fed’ you with tangible things because I couldn’t give you what you needed…me. The days were long but the years flew by and before I knew it, you were taller and the baby fat in your face was replaced by a thinner, leaner looking you. I see determination and tenacity in your eyes. You’ve always been stubborn and fiercely independent. You thought you got those traits from your dad; but you got it just as much from me. I pray that you never loose that. Never loose your humility and your kindness. I have watched you grow and I am amazed at your level of maturity. I didn’t know how to be a mother (and still don’t); this journey we walk together. Both of us trying to figure out who we are: you trying to find your place in this world with a kind heart and intolerance of injustice; me as a single mother trying to find her way out of grief and back to herself.

I see passion in your eyes for so many things. Keep that. You are such a compassionate, beautiful soul. At 11, you have such firm boundaries and standards (I know 20 year olds who are not as convicted as you). My hope is to cultivate that. I never want to diminish your flame and please don’t allow anyone else to diminish it. I know the sky is the limit for you and I cannot wait to see what is to come for you. I never imagined loving someone so much. I hope to teach you to remain true to yourself and not be swayed by societal norms and popular opinions. You’ve always been a problem solver from the time you could walk. I would just look at you and see the wheels turning and wonder “how did she figure that out?” I see a strength in you that most kids don’t have. You have a certain awareness about you; a complete lack of obliviousness. You’ve had to learn to be strong from the loss of your father and the loss of you great-grandmother before you reached the age of 9.

I think every mother wants to save her child from hurt and disappointment; I am no different. If I could somehow deflect every potentially bad thing in life that could happen to you I would: the broken hearts, the loss of loved ones, the people in this world who will disappoint you…

God entrusted me with you. I’ve known that since you were born and it has only become more apparent as the days have turned into years. He also entrusted you with me; you’ve shown me how to be strong, how not to take crap and how to stand up for what is right. I’ve told you countless times “we are not friends” but lets be honest, we know that we are. We are all we have (and have had) from sun up until sun down…so it’s kind of hard to not be friends. There’s no manual on how to be a good parent (I’m not sure I would read it if there was because every parent/child relationship is different). I started with the basics: you had a roof; you weren’t hungry and you had a place to lay your head. The rest has been on the job training.

I hope I’ve taught you to trust yourself and to love yourself. You’ve often asked me if I’m proud of you. I could never NOT be proud of you but it is not about making anyone else proud; are you proud of yourself? Whether you know it or not, you saved me. Because of you, I HAD to become ok. Some days I didn’t know how to be ok but I knew were watching me and you were counting on me. You are still watching me. Some days I didn’t have the capacity to grieve AND be a parent; but I loved you and I held you as I choked back tears…because you were watching. I look at you as a confident young lady and I am somewhat envious, wishing I could have been half as sure of myself as a ‘tween as you are. As smart as you are, as driven as you are. I see great things for you my love. I’m proud of you EVERYDAY; be proud of yourself and remember that you can be whoever or whatever you choose. Never let anyone tell you who you are or what you can be.

Go forth and change this world for the better. I love being your mother and I cannot wait to see where life takes you. Hugs and kisses.

Be Positive: I find this to be so difficult sometimes. Life has a way sometimes of pushing you to your limit. What I find helpful is to think of the absolute worst case scenario and try to solve/deal with that problem. Anything other than worst case is doable by default.

Be Present: another thing I struggle with is going thru the motions of life instead of living it. For so many years after I lost my husband, I was just focused on getting thru the day. If a challenge came up, I didn’t know how to deal with it…so I wouldn’t. I would zone out or I would sleep. It has been a struggle for me to pay attention and actually live in this moment. I don’t want to look back years from now and have regrets that I didn’t show up for myself or my child. I am by no means present all the time, but I am so much better than I used to be. I have to allow myself some grace as I didn’t develop this habit overnight so chances are it will not be fixed overnight.

Be Prayerful: this one has gotten me through on a daily basis. In all things I do. My faith is what gets me to put one foot in front of the other. Being a parent in general is not without its challenges; being a single parent magnifies those challenges significantly. As I have mentioned in previous posts, for months after I lost my husband, I would ask the Lord to get me through the day 5 minutes at a time. Now I pray daily for and with my child. Everyday on the way to school we practice gratitude and say aloud all we a thankful for that day. I always start the conversation…always. When we first started, it was met with opposition and questioning as to why we had to do this daily. Every day it seemed to be a chore to my child but begrudgingly she did it. As a parent, I sometimes wonder if things ‘stick’. Like, “is what I’m trying to accomplish here actually working?” Well, the morning that SHE began the conversation one morning about what we were grateful for that day, it felt like I had won the lottery.

Be Particular about the things and the people you allow in your life and in your thoughts. Everyone in the world is not good…something I have had to learn the hard way. Peace is a precious thing. I have spent a very long time cultivating mine and I cannot allow anyone to disturb it.

Be Persistent: life is challenging and sometimes the answer is NO but it doesn’t always mean NO forever. There have been plenty of times where I wanted to give up; times when I felt like it was just to hard to try. To be honest, in those times I didn’t always try. Then I had a daughter…and I realized as she got older that it was more important for me to practice what I preach. If anyone is going to call bullshit on the discrepancy between what you say and what you do, it will be your child.

I love being a mother. I just hate doing it alone. At least if I was married, I would have a sounding board. I would have the opinion of someone other than the voices in my head. I am terrified of making the wrong decisions for me but especially for my child. What if she doesn’t go to a good school? What if I should take her out of private and put her in public? And various other non-sensical questions. I feel selfish for admitting this, but as a single parent I have no down time. It’s always just me. How do you teach your child to be outgoing when you are not? How do you teach her to stand up for herself if you don’t? How do you teach her assertiveness? I feel like if I had a partner, he would take her out to eat or to the mall or something so I could have some time to myself. I feel a tremendous sense of guilt for admitting that. I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for a lot of things and like my kid will need therapy as an adult for something I did or didn’t do.

It kinda sucks to not be able to go to all the school functions because you have to work and there is not another member of the family who can go. I used to envy the “in tact” families…the ones with a mother and a father. I felt like at least if I had a spouse we could trade off. Things you never in your life think you’ll have to deal with come up.

I miss my partner…

Some days I want to scream at the top of my lungs, “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!” But I don’t want my daughter to see. I want to throw myself across my bed and have a fun out tantrum…but I don’t want her to see. Sometimes I feel the need to start crying and I am not sure if I would be able to stop…but she can’t see. I want to stop being an adult for like 5 minutes; stop being the carrier of the household…but she’s watching.

This kinda sucks….