I heard about Kundalini Yoga several years ago and decided I wanted to do it. I purchased 2 DVDs and they have sat there unopened ever since.
I have told myself I would get to them, and today I finally opened one and began.
I have had constant back and neck pain for years and take Excederine and Ibupropen every day, which really bothers me. I try to live my life without toxins, and I know both of these are poisons that do not contribute to my well-being.
I think this yoga practice will completely transform my life. I immediately felt renewed energy and power. My back and neck opeened up. I didn't realize it was so aerobic - nor did I realize how out of shape I am! I have never been interested in weight training programs or things that just seemed otherwise unnatural to me. This is something I definately enjoyed doing and I felt an immediate benefit. I am hooked after one session and plan to make it a daily practice.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Psychopathic Behavior
A therapist friend sent this to me earlier today and I thought it was extremely interesting.
Diagnostic criteria (DSM-IV): Narcassistic Personality Disorder
The essential feature of Narcissistic Personality Disorder is a
pervasive pattern of grandiosity (either in fantasy or actual
behavior), need for admiration, and lack of empathy that begins by
early adulthood and is present in a variety of situations and
environments.
In order for a person to be diagnosed with narcissistic personality
disorder (NPD) they must meet five or more of the following symptoms:
-Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements)
-Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love
-Believes that he or she is "special" and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions)
-Requires excessive admiration
-Has a sense of entitlement, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations
-Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends
-Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings
and needs of others
-Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her
-Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes.
Antisocial Personality Disorder:
A) There is a pervasive pattern of disregard for and the rights of others occurring since the age of 15, as indicated by three (or more)of the following:
-failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest;
-deceitfulness, as indicated by repeatedly lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure;
-impulsivity or failure to plan ahead;
-irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults;
-reckless disregard for safety of self or others;
- consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations;
-lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another.
B) The individual is at least 18 years of age.
C) There is evidence of Conduct disorder with onset before age 15.
D) The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or a manic episode.
Anti-social + narcissistic = psychopathic.
Diagnostic criteria (DSM-IV): Narcassistic Personality Disorder
The essential feature of Narcissistic Personality Disorder is a
pervasive pattern of grandiosity (either in fantasy or actual
behavior), need for admiration, and lack of empathy that begins by
early adulthood and is present in a variety of situations and
environments.
In order for a person to be diagnosed with narcissistic personality
disorder (NPD) they must meet five or more of the following symptoms:
-Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents, expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements)
-Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love
-Believes that he or she is "special" and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people (or institutions)
-Requires excessive admiration
-Has a sense of entitlement, i.e., unreasonable expectations of especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with his or her expectations
-Is interpersonally exploitative, i.e., takes advantage of others to achieve his or her own ends
-Lacks empathy: is unwilling to recognize or identify with the feelings
and needs of others
-Is often envious of others or believes that others are envious of him or her
-Shows arrogant, haughty behaviors or attitudes.
Antisocial Personality Disorder:
A) There is a pervasive pattern of disregard for and the rights of others occurring since the age of 15, as indicated by three (or more)of the following:
-failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest;
-deceitfulness, as indicated by repeatedly lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure;
-impulsivity or failure to plan ahead;
-irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults;
-reckless disregard for safety of self or others;
- consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations;
-lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another.
B) The individual is at least 18 years of age.
C) There is evidence of Conduct disorder with onset before age 15.
D) The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or a manic episode.
Anti-social + narcissistic = psychopathic.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Recovery
I went back through all my previous posts, going back over a year, today. It was emotionally draining for me to even read all of it. I considered taking it all down, but decided to leave it up in case anything here might be helpful to someone else in my shoes.
I firmly believe that the only way out of all of this is leaving the dysfunctional relationship behind - as much as possible. In my case, there are children, so my ex will always be somehow involved in my life.
But to live day-to-day as I had been living - even separated - is not conceivable to me any longer.
I don't want to end up like my grandmother, dying too young from cancer, after 36 years married to an alcoholic. She sacrificed herself to him and to her family. Most of her children became addicts. It was the only choice for her in her day, and I ache for her. I ache for all women who have been in relationships with addicts. It is hell. Pure hell.
I spent over a year in Al-Anon and I still read the literature and what not, but I don't believe that is the answer either. I believe 12-step groups are deeply flawed, especially for women, and I will come back to that in a later post.
The thing I saw meeting after meeting for 95% of people is not what I would call recovery. It was recycling the same garbage. Putting up with very poor behavior and then venting about it. Yes, it is an outlet, and yes, it is better than nothing. But after all this time, we need to do better. We need better programs that are progressive and deal with the specific needs of women.
The advice I would give to any woman who asked me what to do if she were in my shoes is to leave the relationship and work on herself. An alcoholic, "recovering" or not, will drain you. (My definition of recovery has completely changed as well over the years - again, for another post).
Recovery for me has meant joy - pure joy. Not repeating meeting lingo or being how someone thinks I should be. I feel that I have finally come home to myself. I believe that I am good and deserve to be happy.
For so long I was scared to leave. But it was the best thing I ever did - for me and my children as far as I am concerned. I am happier than I have been for a long time. I actually have energy to focus on things that I enjoy. I have renewed energy to volunteer, which has also been enormously healing for me. How wonderful to focus on someone that wants your help - that will truly benefit. An alcoholic can only help himself when he is ready.
I am sad for all the tears I shed and wasted energy I spent over the years. But I have learned.
I firmly believe that the only way out of all of this is leaving the dysfunctional relationship behind - as much as possible. In my case, there are children, so my ex will always be somehow involved in my life.
But to live day-to-day as I had been living - even separated - is not conceivable to me any longer.
I don't want to end up like my grandmother, dying too young from cancer, after 36 years married to an alcoholic. She sacrificed herself to him and to her family. Most of her children became addicts. It was the only choice for her in her day, and I ache for her. I ache for all women who have been in relationships with addicts. It is hell. Pure hell.
I spent over a year in Al-Anon and I still read the literature and what not, but I don't believe that is the answer either. I believe 12-step groups are deeply flawed, especially for women, and I will come back to that in a later post.
The thing I saw meeting after meeting for 95% of people is not what I would call recovery. It was recycling the same garbage. Putting up with very poor behavior and then venting about it. Yes, it is an outlet, and yes, it is better than nothing. But after all this time, we need to do better. We need better programs that are progressive and deal with the specific needs of women.
The advice I would give to any woman who asked me what to do if she were in my shoes is to leave the relationship and work on herself. An alcoholic, "recovering" or not, will drain you. (My definition of recovery has completely changed as well over the years - again, for another post).
Recovery for me has meant joy - pure joy. Not repeating meeting lingo or being how someone thinks I should be. I feel that I have finally come home to myself. I believe that I am good and deserve to be happy.
For so long I was scared to leave. But it was the best thing I ever did - for me and my children as far as I am concerned. I am happier than I have been for a long time. I actually have energy to focus on things that I enjoy. I have renewed energy to volunteer, which has also been enormously healing for me. How wonderful to focus on someone that wants your help - that will truly benefit. An alcoholic can only help himself when he is ready.
I am sad for all the tears I shed and wasted energy I spent over the years. But I have learned.
The Power to say No
"Women's most feared power over men is the power to say no. To refuse to take care of men. To refuse to service them sexually. To refuse to buy their products. To refuse to worship their God. To refuse to love them. Every therapist knows that sex can be forced, but no power in the world can force love from any woman who wishes to withhold it."
-Barbara Walker, The Crone: Woman of Age, Wisdom and Power
-Barbara Walker, The Crone: Woman of Age, Wisdom and Power
Monday, May 10, 2010
Making Peace with my Mother
It has been very healing for me to look back at old photos these last few weeks.
I made peace with my mother years ago. I let go of the childish expectations and grievances I had with her. I learned to accept and love her as she was, which was actually a gift to me - and to my children.
However, there was still a small child-part of me that wondered about the depth of her love for me as a child.
Perhaps I was not ready to see it years ago, when my grandmother gave me the boxes of family pictures. I looked through all but one.
Last week, I opened the box that contained the pictures of me as a young child. Most of the photos were me with my mother. And the look in her eyes said everything I needed to know.
Because now I know her as a person, and I know that the look she gave me, picture after picture, was love and pure adoration.
I made peace with my mother years ago. I let go of the childish expectations and grievances I had with her. I learned to accept and love her as she was, which was actually a gift to me - and to my children.
However, there was still a small child-part of me that wondered about the depth of her love for me as a child.
Perhaps I was not ready to see it years ago, when my grandmother gave me the boxes of family pictures. I looked through all but one.
Last week, I opened the box that contained the pictures of me as a young child. Most of the photos were me with my mother. And the look in her eyes said everything I needed to know.
Because now I know her as a person, and I know that the look she gave me, picture after picture, was love and pure adoration.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Blessing for All Mothers
We said this prayer together at church this morning and I thought it was beautiful and inclusive.
Today we bless mothers who sat up all night with sick toddlers saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here.
Today we bless mothers who gave birth to babies they may never see. And the mothers who took those babies forever to be their own children.
Today we bless mothers who attended ball games, recitals, rehearsals, etc. etc. and said, "I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and meant it.
Today we bless mothers who show up for work with milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
Today we bless mothers who put pinwheels, teddy bears, or flowers on children's graves.
Today we bless mothers whose children have gone astray, who haven't the words to reach them, and yet have never put them from their heart.
Today we bless new mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And today we bless mature mothers who are learning to let go.
Today we bless all mothers: working mothers, stay-at-home mothers, single mothers, and married mothers. We also bless all women in life giving and nurturing roles. We thank you. We honor you. We bless you. Amen.
- adapted from a prayer of Dan Bottorff
Today we bless mothers who sat up all night with sick toddlers saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here.
Today we bless mothers who gave birth to babies they may never see. And the mothers who took those babies forever to be their own children.
Today we bless mothers who attended ball games, recitals, rehearsals, etc. etc. and said, "I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and meant it.
Today we bless mothers who show up for work with milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
Today we bless mothers who put pinwheels, teddy bears, or flowers on children's graves.
Today we bless mothers whose children have gone astray, who haven't the words to reach them, and yet have never put them from their heart.
Today we bless new mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And today we bless mature mothers who are learning to let go.
Today we bless all mothers: working mothers, stay-at-home mothers, single mothers, and married mothers. We also bless all women in life giving and nurturing roles. We thank you. We honor you. We bless you. Amen.
- adapted from a prayer of Dan Bottorff
This Mother's Day....
Battered Women Take Custody Battles to White House
By Mary Darcy
WeNews correspondent
Friday, May 7, 2010
Battered mothers often shy away from publicity. But this year, in a sign of their growing organization, some plan to spend Mother's Day in Washington in a White House vigil to draw attention to a court system that often gives custody to abusers.
(WOMENSENEWS)--On Mother's Day, busloads of battered moms and advocates for abused children will roll into Washington, D.C.
They'll hold a vigil outside the White House in an effort to persuade President Obama to take up their cause of reforming a family court system that they say all too often puts children into the hands of abusive parents.
For some it marks a new and somewhat frightening degree of public exposure. Some of the protesters will be shrouded in scarves, hiding from their abusers or a court system they fear will punish them for speaking out.
"They're whistleblowers," said vigil organizer Connie Valentine, policy director for The California Protective Custody Association, based in Sacramento. "The system doesn't look kindly on whistleblowers. It's a difficult situation because we have seen enormous judicial retaliation against mothers who step up in front of the problem."
Efforts to quantify the problem are just beginning but protective parents claim it is widespread. A study done by the Williamsburg, Va.-based American Judges Foundation in the early 1990s showed that in 70 percent of challenged cases, battering parents involved in custody battles persuaded authorities the victimized parent was unfit for sole custody, according to a spokesperson from the foundation.
Valentine and other advocates for protective parents call the family courts broken and corrupt and say the system not only puts children into the hands of abusive parents, it also bankrupts and punishes the protective parents who fight for them. At the same time, they say it's hard to reform the system because the people it hurts are hiding from abusers and anxious to avoid publicity.
Shifting Ground
But Valentine feels the ground shifting. "I think we're in the early stages of a civil rights movement for protecting children from physical and sexual abuse."
She said the Internet is helping battered mothers come together. "E-mail has helped. It's a good part of the reason for all of the advocacy," Valentine said. "Women are beginning to see that it's not their fault and that they are just pawns in the game."
Mo Hannah, psychology professor at Siena College, near Albany, N.Y., used the Internet to organize the first annual conference for battered women seeking custody in 2004, after her own difficult custody battle.
This past January marked the seventh gathering, which meets annually in Albany and is the major organizing and networking event of the year for protective parents.
"The first conference was about getting people to talk and validate their experiences," Hannah said. "But as the conferences continued it became very clear that we needed a national movement. Now the conference is just sort of an umbrella or structure that encourages people to share with each other."
Over the seven years, women have met at the conference and formed smaller groups, such as the Massachusetts Protective Mothers for Custodial Justice.
"Mass Moms," as it has come to be known, brings together women who have gone through custody battles with those currently in the throes. Volunteers accompany women to court and on lawyer visits and play a general shepherding role.
"We stand next to a woman who is fighting for her children while she pleads and receives orders," one Mass Mom told Women's eNews at January's Battered Mothers Custody Conference.
These volunteers have all been through their own custody battles and declined to be named for fear of retribution from their ex-husbands or the court system. Many have gag orders associated with their own cases. It is this type of fear of retribution that has helped keep the protective parents movement under the radar.
The California Protective Custody Association's Valentine understands the fear that keeps women from protesting and fighting the bigger battles.
"I waited until my own children were grown so we weren't affected by the family court system," she said.
Valentine says advocates and organizers need to study and replicate the successful civil rights campaigns of the past.
"Slavery was ended with a good law but slavery wasn't ended because a good law happened to come about. The law happened because huge masses of people put their lives on the line and fought for it," Valentine said.
This year "Mass Moms" is preparing to add some more public activism to their advocacy with a demonstration taking place in Boston on a date to be announced soon. In what they're planning to call "Confetti," the moms will symbolically shred court-appointed guardian reports--which they feel are particularly unfair to protective parents--into little bits and toss them at the statehouse to call attention to the plight of protective mothers fighting for custody of their children.
In New York City, a group called V.O.W., or Voices of Women, has been working within the court system to try to provide legal counsel and one-on-one help for women. On a wider scale its mission is to "promote long-term systemic change by documenting institutional failures, testifying at hearings, creating position papers and meeting with local and state officials."
Both Valentine and Hannah say this is the right time to take the movement to the next level.
"The new president is a fatherless man with a good wife and they will hear us," said Valentine. "And if they don't hear us, Vice President Joe Biden worked on the violence against women act and he will hear us. And if they don't hear us we will keep going until they do hear us."
By Mary Darcy
WeNews correspondent
Friday, May 7, 2010
Battered mothers often shy away from publicity. But this year, in a sign of their growing organization, some plan to spend Mother's Day in Washington in a White House vigil to draw attention to a court system that often gives custody to abusers.
(WOMENSENEWS)--On Mother's Day, busloads of battered moms and advocates for abused children will roll into Washington, D.C.
They'll hold a vigil outside the White House in an effort to persuade President Obama to take up their cause of reforming a family court system that they say all too often puts children into the hands of abusive parents.
For some it marks a new and somewhat frightening degree of public exposure. Some of the protesters will be shrouded in scarves, hiding from their abusers or a court system they fear will punish them for speaking out.
"They're whistleblowers," said vigil organizer Connie Valentine, policy director for The California Protective Custody Association, based in Sacramento. "The system doesn't look kindly on whistleblowers. It's a difficult situation because we have seen enormous judicial retaliation against mothers who step up in front of the problem."
Efforts to quantify the problem are just beginning but protective parents claim it is widespread. A study done by the Williamsburg, Va.-based American Judges Foundation in the early 1990s showed that in 70 percent of challenged cases, battering parents involved in custody battles persuaded authorities the victimized parent was unfit for sole custody, according to a spokesperson from the foundation.
Valentine and other advocates for protective parents call the family courts broken and corrupt and say the system not only puts children into the hands of abusive parents, it also bankrupts and punishes the protective parents who fight for them. At the same time, they say it's hard to reform the system because the people it hurts are hiding from abusers and anxious to avoid publicity.
Shifting Ground
But Valentine feels the ground shifting. "I think we're in the early stages of a civil rights movement for protecting children from physical and sexual abuse."
She said the Internet is helping battered mothers come together. "E-mail has helped. It's a good part of the reason for all of the advocacy," Valentine said. "Women are beginning to see that it's not their fault and that they are just pawns in the game."
Mo Hannah, psychology professor at Siena College, near Albany, N.Y., used the Internet to organize the first annual conference for battered women seeking custody in 2004, after her own difficult custody battle.
This past January marked the seventh gathering, which meets annually in Albany and is the major organizing and networking event of the year for protective parents.
"The first conference was about getting people to talk and validate their experiences," Hannah said. "But as the conferences continued it became very clear that we needed a national movement. Now the conference is just sort of an umbrella or structure that encourages people to share with each other."
Over the seven years, women have met at the conference and formed smaller groups, such as the Massachusetts Protective Mothers for Custodial Justice.
"Mass Moms," as it has come to be known, brings together women who have gone through custody battles with those currently in the throes. Volunteers accompany women to court and on lawyer visits and play a general shepherding role.
"We stand next to a woman who is fighting for her children while she pleads and receives orders," one Mass Mom told Women's eNews at January's Battered Mothers Custody Conference.
These volunteers have all been through their own custody battles and declined to be named for fear of retribution from their ex-husbands or the court system. Many have gag orders associated with their own cases. It is this type of fear of retribution that has helped keep the protective parents movement under the radar.
The California Protective Custody Association's Valentine understands the fear that keeps women from protesting and fighting the bigger battles.
"I waited until my own children were grown so we weren't affected by the family court system," she said.
Valentine says advocates and organizers need to study and replicate the successful civil rights campaigns of the past.
"Slavery was ended with a good law but slavery wasn't ended because a good law happened to come about. The law happened because huge masses of people put their lives on the line and fought for it," Valentine said.
This year "Mass Moms" is preparing to add some more public activism to their advocacy with a demonstration taking place in Boston on a date to be announced soon. In what they're planning to call "Confetti," the moms will symbolically shred court-appointed guardian reports--which they feel are particularly unfair to protective parents--into little bits and toss them at the statehouse to call attention to the plight of protective mothers fighting for custody of their children.
In New York City, a group called V.O.W., or Voices of Women, has been working within the court system to try to provide legal counsel and one-on-one help for women. On a wider scale its mission is to "promote long-term systemic change by documenting institutional failures, testifying at hearings, creating position papers and meeting with local and state officials."
Both Valentine and Hannah say this is the right time to take the movement to the next level.
"The new president is a fatherless man with a good wife and they will hear us," said Valentine. "And if they don't hear us, Vice President Joe Biden worked on the violence against women act and he will hear us. And if they don't hear us we will keep going until they do hear us."
Happy Mother's Day
I ended up spending yesterday completely alone, which was needed. I read and did some sorting out of things, mental and physical. I napped and slept well last night, which is unusual for me.
I am headed to church and then to spend time with my mom's side of the family. Both my great grandma and grandma on my mom's side are terminal, and all the local family will gather around them this afternoon.
I am glad I had this time to gather myself prior to that so I can be present with them and the rest of my family.
Happy Mother's Day to all mothers.
I am headed to church and then to spend time with my mom's side of the family. Both my great grandma and grandma on my mom's side are terminal, and all the local family will gather around them this afternoon.
I am glad I had this time to gather myself prior to that so I can be present with them and the rest of my family.
Happy Mother's Day to all mothers.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Upset
I have been too upset these last few days to write anything.
My grandfather's funeral was ruined many years ago because of my husband and his father. I did not want him to come to my grandmother's service because of this and he did not.
Everything went very well until after the reception. My daughter had been sick so I had kept her home from school. By 3pm, she was spent. I carried her out to the car, but she had a meltdown. I do not usually wear high heels and there was a ridge in the sidewalk I tripped over. We both fell.
I tried to break her fall with my hands, so I got pretty banged up. But she still hit her head anyway, which was upsetting for both of us. I sat there for at least 5 minutes in a daze. No one was around us or heard us and I just didn't want to get up.
She fell asleep almost as soon as I put her in the car and I called the doctor's office. The nurse told me what to watch for. When we got home, I called her dad and gave him the instructions, as he was to pick her up after our family dinner and I did not want to forget anything. He told me that perhaps I should just deal with it. That was fine with me. I told him he should come pick up our son though because he gets upset when he does not.
I had made a delicious pot roast dinner. It had slow-cooked for nearly 10 hours and was probably the best one (actually 2) I have ever made. I had invited my close family over for a dinner after the reception. I thought it would be nice to have some private time together, and dinners were always very important to my grandma.
I set the table in the morning with her China and Silver she had given me years before. I made sure everything on the table had been hers, and it made the dinner very special for all of us.
Afterwards, I asked my sister's boyfriend to play the piano for us. He did and sang beautifully. My dad and sisters and I sang along when we knew the words. I was thinking in my head that this was heaven. I really felt happy and at peace.
Then my husband came.
I don't even want to write about all the details because they still upset me. But he decided he wanted to take my daughter and she did not want to go with him. Ultimately, there was a standoff between us and he threatened to call the police. I told him to go ahead. He was a convicted felon. What were they going to do? I was with my family after my grandmother's funeral and he wants to take my children by force?
My sister stepped in and said something like, "Don't you realize our grandma just died?"
My son ran inside with me. Ultimately neither of them went with him. My dad's wife started sobbing. She had never directly witnessed this side of him. I was crying, the kids were confused, my sister's and dad were trying to comfort everyone - and my dad and my sister's boyfriend went outside to talk my husband out of calling the police or taking the kids.
Somehow, he always manages to ruin everything. He turns every event into something about him, uncomfortable without drama. I am still angry.
He came back this morning and took both the kids. My daughter was sobbing and clinging to me. She kept saying, "I want to stay with mommy." She has called me crying, which just seems like more torture for both of us. She wants to come home.
And I can't figure out why he just won't let her.
What sort of relationship does he want to have with our children?
My grandfather's funeral was ruined many years ago because of my husband and his father. I did not want him to come to my grandmother's service because of this and he did not.
Everything went very well until after the reception. My daughter had been sick so I had kept her home from school. By 3pm, she was spent. I carried her out to the car, but she had a meltdown. I do not usually wear high heels and there was a ridge in the sidewalk I tripped over. We both fell.
I tried to break her fall with my hands, so I got pretty banged up. But she still hit her head anyway, which was upsetting for both of us. I sat there for at least 5 minutes in a daze. No one was around us or heard us and I just didn't want to get up.
She fell asleep almost as soon as I put her in the car and I called the doctor's office. The nurse told me what to watch for. When we got home, I called her dad and gave him the instructions, as he was to pick her up after our family dinner and I did not want to forget anything. He told me that perhaps I should just deal with it. That was fine with me. I told him he should come pick up our son though because he gets upset when he does not.
I had made a delicious pot roast dinner. It had slow-cooked for nearly 10 hours and was probably the best one (actually 2) I have ever made. I had invited my close family over for a dinner after the reception. I thought it would be nice to have some private time together, and dinners were always very important to my grandma.
I set the table in the morning with her China and Silver she had given me years before. I made sure everything on the table had been hers, and it made the dinner very special for all of us.
Afterwards, I asked my sister's boyfriend to play the piano for us. He did and sang beautifully. My dad and sisters and I sang along when we knew the words. I was thinking in my head that this was heaven. I really felt happy and at peace.
Then my husband came.
I don't even want to write about all the details because they still upset me. But he decided he wanted to take my daughter and she did not want to go with him. Ultimately, there was a standoff between us and he threatened to call the police. I told him to go ahead. He was a convicted felon. What were they going to do? I was with my family after my grandmother's funeral and he wants to take my children by force?
My sister stepped in and said something like, "Don't you realize our grandma just died?"
My son ran inside with me. Ultimately neither of them went with him. My dad's wife started sobbing. She had never directly witnessed this side of him. I was crying, the kids were confused, my sister's and dad were trying to comfort everyone - and my dad and my sister's boyfriend went outside to talk my husband out of calling the police or taking the kids.
Somehow, he always manages to ruin everything. He turns every event into something about him, uncomfortable without drama. I am still angry.
He came back this morning and took both the kids. My daughter was sobbing and clinging to me. She kept saying, "I want to stay with mommy." She has called me crying, which just seems like more torture for both of us. She wants to come home.
And I can't figure out why he just won't let her.
What sort of relationship does he want to have with our children?
Friday, May 7, 2010
For the dying
My sister read this poem to Nano the day before she died. She was still able to hear it and we were all in tears. It was printed on the back of her bulletin at her service.
May death come gently towards you,
Leaving you time to make your way
Through the cold embrace of fear
To the place of inner tranquility.
May death arrive only after a long life
To find you at home among your own
With every comfort and care you require.
May your leave-taking be gracious,
Enabling you to hold dignity
Through awkwardness and illness.
May you see the reflection
Of your life's kindness and beauty
In all the tears that fall for you.
As your eyes focus on each face,
May your soul take its imprint
Drawing each image within
As companions for the journey.
May you find for each one you love
A different locket of jewelled words
To be worn around the heart
To warm your absence.
May someone who knows and loves
The complex village of your heart
Be there to echo you back to yourself
And create a sure word-raft
To carry you to the further shore.
May your spirit feel
The surge of true delight
When the veil of the visible
Is raised, and you glimpse again
The living faces
Of departed family and friends.
May there be some beautiful surprise
Waiting for you inside death,
Something you never knew or felt,
Which with one simple touch
Absolves you of all loneliness and loss,
As you quicken within the embrace
For which your soul was eternally made.
May your heart be speechless
At the sight of the truth
Of all your belief had hoped,
Your heart breathless
In the light and lightness
Where each and every thing
Is at last its true self
Within that serene belonging
That dwells beside us
On the other side
Of what we see.
For the Dying
by John O'Donohue
(from the book 'Benedictus: A book of Blessings')
May death come gently towards you,
Leaving you time to make your way
Through the cold embrace of fear
To the place of inner tranquility.
May death arrive only after a long life
To find you at home among your own
With every comfort and care you require.
May your leave-taking be gracious,
Enabling you to hold dignity
Through awkwardness and illness.
May you see the reflection
Of your life's kindness and beauty
In all the tears that fall for you.
As your eyes focus on each face,
May your soul take its imprint
Drawing each image within
As companions for the journey.
May you find for each one you love
A different locket of jewelled words
To be worn around the heart
To warm your absence.
May someone who knows and loves
The complex village of your heart
Be there to echo you back to yourself
And create a sure word-raft
To carry you to the further shore.
May your spirit feel
The surge of true delight
When the veil of the visible
Is raised, and you glimpse again
The living faces
Of departed family and friends.
May there be some beautiful surprise
Waiting for you inside death,
Something you never knew or felt,
Which with one simple touch
Absolves you of all loneliness and loss,
As you quicken within the embrace
For which your soul was eternally made.
May your heart be speechless
At the sight of the truth
Of all your belief had hoped,
Your heart breathless
In the light and lightness
Where each and every thing
Is at last its true self
Within that serene belonging
That dwells beside us
On the other side
Of what we see.
For the Dying
by John O'Donohue
(from the book 'Benedictus: A book of Blessings')
Thursday, May 6, 2010
What Your Family Needs
Here is the song my dad wrote for my grandmother's funeral tomorrow
What Your Family Needs
My Mom & Dad lived a long good life
They were always happy to be man and wife
They never had a lot but what they had they shared
And if we had a problem they always cared
In their final days we gathered around
People were amazed at the sight and the sound
Of us all together holding hands and singing songs
I guess a lot of people finish life alone
That’s not right it's just plain sad
The more I think about it the more it makes me mad
When a loved one is hurting or passing away
I hope you’ll remember what I’m gonna say
Hold ‘em in your arms look ‘em in the eye
Tell ‘em that you love ‘em and have a good cry
When times are so rough that you don’t know what to do
What your family needs is you
Every man woman and child
Is only here for a little while
So love one another I know that it’s true
What’s good for them will be good for you
Hold ‘em in your arms look ‘em in the eye
Tell ‘em that you love ‘em and have a good cry
When times are so rough that you don’t know what to do
What your family needs is you
What Your Family Needs
My Mom & Dad lived a long good life
They were always happy to be man and wife
They never had a lot but what they had they shared
And if we had a problem they always cared
In their final days we gathered around
People were amazed at the sight and the sound
Of us all together holding hands and singing songs
I guess a lot of people finish life alone
That’s not right it's just plain sad
The more I think about it the more it makes me mad
When a loved one is hurting or passing away
I hope you’ll remember what I’m gonna say
Hold ‘em in your arms look ‘em in the eye
Tell ‘em that you love ‘em and have a good cry
When times are so rough that you don’t know what to do
What your family needs is you
Every man woman and child
Is only here for a little while
So love one another I know that it’s true
What’s good for them will be good for you
Hold ‘em in your arms look ‘em in the eye
Tell ‘em that you love ‘em and have a good cry
When times are so rough that you don’t know what to do
What your family needs is you
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
The Way We Die
Most of my experience these last 2 weeks with my grandmother dying were positive. People seem to look at me strangely when I say that, but it is true. I knew in my heart she would die. And I knew I wanted to be there. And so, while I had a few moments of breakdowns and despair, the majority of my experience was purely positive. It was pure joy to be able to care for my grandmother in her last days. It was a gift and a blessing.
She stayed most of the last 2 weeks in the hospital, and that was wonderful. She received good care and was well-liked. She never complained and was always kind with everyone, so I am sure that had a large effect on her care.
We were hoping she would not have to move. She lasted longer than we thought she would - she was stronger than any of us ever imagined in her frail state of 108 pounds.
After talking to many people, it became apparent to me that, for whatever reasons, hospitals do not like people to die there. So, while I know the social workers and administrators tried to stretch her stay out as long as possible, ultimately, she had to be moved to a "rehabilitation center."
I did not want to do this for my grandmother, but I knew she needed more extensive nursing care than we could give her at home with hospice.
The moment I walked in there, I hated the place.
It was a "nice" place as far as that goes. One thing my family does not scrimp on, is care for our family when they need it. We are not wealthy by any means, but we take care of our family as well as possible.
It instantly struck me walking down the hall (my grandmother was at the very end) that this was a place people were sent to die. And most of them were completely alone. It was a depressing place. I would not want to die there.
In her room, we created our own world. We shut the door, listened to music and talked while she was able.
The day she arrived, I had visited her in the morning before church with the children in the hospital. She had moved afterwards and my sister was there with my dad and his wife, so I did not go out again. I knew she was well taken care of.
I came Monday morning as soon as I dropped both children off school, which was at 9am. My father had been there late, so slept in a little.
When I got there, my grandmother was severely distressed. It was a state I have rarely seen her in, expect right before and after my grandfather's death.
I had to quickly compose myself so I did not lose it too.
She had been sitting there since about 4am without her hearing aides, so she could basically hear nothing, on top of being completely disoriented from her new surroundings. We had managed to keep on top of these for nearly 2 weeks in the hospital and it was never a problem.
I asked several nurses multiple times, and no one knew where they were. I searched her room 3 times to no avail, then texted my dad and sister to see if they knew anything. Neither did.
I tried to stay calm while my grandma became more and more upset. I asked her if we could purchase her a new set. She nearly started to cry and said they had to be ordered and they were over $2,500.
My dad called the center and they managed to find them. Apparently it was their policy to hold onto them overnight, but no one was able to tell us that for over an hour.
While we were still trying to figure that out, I tried to calm my grandma by asking what else she needed. She is a very clean woman. (I mean scrubbing until it hurts clean.) They had left her in there dirty for hours. I told her I would bathe her and started to do so. I had done it a few times in the hospital and it is nothing that I mind. But I know it was embarrassing for her. She is very modest. I had not seen her naked before this time. I kept joking with her and telling her it was nothing I had not seen. She would smile. She was always so gracious. She just kept saying, I'm sorry. I didn't want for you to have to do this.
It became apparent that they had left her in an old soiled diaper for some time. She was so humiliated about this I nearly cried. I could not let her sit there like that. I told her I would change it. She tried to stop me but I told her I didn't mind - she had changed plenty of mine. It makes me sad that she died with so much humiliation on her last day of awareness.
The nurse tried to say later that she had checked it earlier, but I have at least 5 years of diaper duty under my belt. I know an old diaper. What I did not know was how to change one on someone nearly as big as me who can not move much anymore on their own. It was a struggle, but we did it. She had to help me by moving around in all sorts of ways. But at least she was clean.
While I was bathing her, the maintenance man knocked at her door. She had been sitting there for 4-5 hours alone after she woke up. She had asked them to turn on her CD. No one seemed to be able to figure that out (it's not brain surgery). So she asked for the TV, to at least have some distraction. They told her they would have to find a remote.
So here I was bathing my very modest grandmother, and this man knocks at the door while she is exposed. She had already specified she did not even want a male nurse. I tell him I am bathing her. He walks in anyway and plays around with the remote.
I don't want to upset my grandmother so I texted my dad. Luckily she does not have her hearing aides yet anyway, but I don't want the negative energy.
So the Director of the place knocks and comes in. She starts giving me all these excuses, as apparently my dad has called her to complain. She then asks my grandmother very condescendingly if she knows when she removes her bowels.
At that point, I lost it. I told her to get out. She seemed stunned and just stood there looking at me. I turned my back to her and told her 3 more times. Please leave, please just leave.
My grandma asked what she had said, but I did not have the heart to tell her.
After that, she quickly went downhill. She pretty much fell asleep except for a few brief moments. One of my sisters wanted to talk to her on the phone from Seattle. As soon as she heard her voice, she perked up and began to speak, with a huge smile on her face.
She died the next day.
What is tragic to me about all of this is that my grandmother had family with her the majority of the time before she died. She was only alone during sleeping hours and then she had nursing care.
But I rarely saw anyone visit the other patients in the hospital or the rehab center. Everyone was alone. And that seems so inhumane and wrong to me.
I know that if I had not been there when I was, my grandmother's care would have been poor - as it was before I got there. It was only after my dad and I became outraged that everyone jumped to their best behavior. And her last 24 hours there were fantastic. But what about everyone else?
The best care should be the standard of care. And where were all the families of the dying?
It is something that has been haunting me - and apparently my dad as well - because he wrote a song about it that he will sing at my grandmother's funeral.
She stayed most of the last 2 weeks in the hospital, and that was wonderful. She received good care and was well-liked. She never complained and was always kind with everyone, so I am sure that had a large effect on her care.
We were hoping she would not have to move. She lasted longer than we thought she would - she was stronger than any of us ever imagined in her frail state of 108 pounds.
After talking to many people, it became apparent to me that, for whatever reasons, hospitals do not like people to die there. So, while I know the social workers and administrators tried to stretch her stay out as long as possible, ultimately, she had to be moved to a "rehabilitation center."
I did not want to do this for my grandmother, but I knew she needed more extensive nursing care than we could give her at home with hospice.
The moment I walked in there, I hated the place.
It was a "nice" place as far as that goes. One thing my family does not scrimp on, is care for our family when they need it. We are not wealthy by any means, but we take care of our family as well as possible.
It instantly struck me walking down the hall (my grandmother was at the very end) that this was a place people were sent to die. And most of them were completely alone. It was a depressing place. I would not want to die there.
In her room, we created our own world. We shut the door, listened to music and talked while she was able.
The day she arrived, I had visited her in the morning before church with the children in the hospital. She had moved afterwards and my sister was there with my dad and his wife, so I did not go out again. I knew she was well taken care of.
I came Monday morning as soon as I dropped both children off school, which was at 9am. My father had been there late, so slept in a little.
When I got there, my grandmother was severely distressed. It was a state I have rarely seen her in, expect right before and after my grandfather's death.
I had to quickly compose myself so I did not lose it too.
She had been sitting there since about 4am without her hearing aides, so she could basically hear nothing, on top of being completely disoriented from her new surroundings. We had managed to keep on top of these for nearly 2 weeks in the hospital and it was never a problem.
I asked several nurses multiple times, and no one knew where they were. I searched her room 3 times to no avail, then texted my dad and sister to see if they knew anything. Neither did.
I tried to stay calm while my grandma became more and more upset. I asked her if we could purchase her a new set. She nearly started to cry and said they had to be ordered and they were over $2,500.
My dad called the center and they managed to find them. Apparently it was their policy to hold onto them overnight, but no one was able to tell us that for over an hour.
While we were still trying to figure that out, I tried to calm my grandma by asking what else she needed. She is a very clean woman. (I mean scrubbing until it hurts clean.) They had left her in there dirty for hours. I told her I would bathe her and started to do so. I had done it a few times in the hospital and it is nothing that I mind. But I know it was embarrassing for her. She is very modest. I had not seen her naked before this time. I kept joking with her and telling her it was nothing I had not seen. She would smile. She was always so gracious. She just kept saying, I'm sorry. I didn't want for you to have to do this.
It became apparent that they had left her in an old soiled diaper for some time. She was so humiliated about this I nearly cried. I could not let her sit there like that. I told her I would change it. She tried to stop me but I told her I didn't mind - she had changed plenty of mine. It makes me sad that she died with so much humiliation on her last day of awareness.
The nurse tried to say later that she had checked it earlier, but I have at least 5 years of diaper duty under my belt. I know an old diaper. What I did not know was how to change one on someone nearly as big as me who can not move much anymore on their own. It was a struggle, but we did it. She had to help me by moving around in all sorts of ways. But at least she was clean.
While I was bathing her, the maintenance man knocked at her door. She had been sitting there for 4-5 hours alone after she woke up. She had asked them to turn on her CD. No one seemed to be able to figure that out (it's not brain surgery). So she asked for the TV, to at least have some distraction. They told her they would have to find a remote.
So here I was bathing my very modest grandmother, and this man knocks at the door while she is exposed. She had already specified she did not even want a male nurse. I tell him I am bathing her. He walks in anyway and plays around with the remote.
I don't want to upset my grandmother so I texted my dad. Luckily she does not have her hearing aides yet anyway, but I don't want the negative energy.
So the Director of the place knocks and comes in. She starts giving me all these excuses, as apparently my dad has called her to complain. She then asks my grandmother very condescendingly if she knows when she removes her bowels.
At that point, I lost it. I told her to get out. She seemed stunned and just stood there looking at me. I turned my back to her and told her 3 more times. Please leave, please just leave.
My grandma asked what she had said, but I did not have the heart to tell her.
After that, she quickly went downhill. She pretty much fell asleep except for a few brief moments. One of my sisters wanted to talk to her on the phone from Seattle. As soon as she heard her voice, she perked up and began to speak, with a huge smile on her face.
She died the next day.
What is tragic to me about all of this is that my grandmother had family with her the majority of the time before she died. She was only alone during sleeping hours and then she had nursing care.
But I rarely saw anyone visit the other patients in the hospital or the rehab center. Everyone was alone. And that seems so inhumane and wrong to me.
I know that if I had not been there when I was, my grandmother's care would have been poor - as it was before I got there. It was only after my dad and I became outraged that everyone jumped to their best behavior. And her last 24 hours there were fantastic. But what about everyone else?
The best care should be the standard of care. And where were all the families of the dying?
It is something that has been haunting me - and apparently my dad as well - because he wrote a song about it that he will sing at my grandmother's funeral.
Death = Profit
It has been increasingly apparent to me with my grandfather's passing nearly 3 years ago and now my grandmothers, that death is very profitable.
In our culture, the most glorious burial is offered at a heightened profit. I would call it unethical advertising. In your state of grief, you are told if you really love someone, you will put them away this way.
This makes no sense to me. They are dead for God's sake! Does it really matter what sort of box they reside in?
In Islam, it is preferable to be buried directly into the ground. No preservatives are supposed to be used, so the funeral is usually very quick after the death. And it is a social and religious obligation to attend the mourning, if not the burial.
We have lost sight of that here with memorial services, elaborately planned weeks after someone dies, at great expense. We did that for my grandfather's service and it prolonged closure and healing. I am glad we did my grandmother's service sooner, but I was disheartened to see that they had used preservatives and chosen a fancy (metal of some sort?) casket. How will she ever return to the earth?
In Islam, if it is necessary to be buried in a casket - as is often the case in the United States where money rules - it is supposed to be the most simple and inexpensive cedar casket, that can be absorbed back into the earth.
What do all these modern environmentalists think about these caskets that will likely NEVER decompose? That cost upwards of $10,000? What for? What could be done with that $10,000?
Amazing things!
I'm sure the new trend will be expensive "environmentally friendly" caskets. How ridiculous it all is.
I told my dad last week I want nothing from my grandmother. When someone has given you so much of themselves, nothing monetary or of substance is necessary. I have my memories. I have my pictures. I have every letter and card she ever gave me since I was about 7-years-old. I have her love. I have her spirit.
I took her remaining jewelry that the family did not want to church on Sunday and let the women pick out one or two items they liked. It will be fun to see the remnants of my grandma on all the other women in the church who meant so much to her.
I hope when I die, my family respects my wishes as they are outlined in my will. I want to be buried simply, next to my grandparents, overlooking the country, with little fanfare. I do not want to be pumped with a single chemical - just as I try to live now. I believe our bodies are a sacred temple.
I hope that I live a life like my grandmother where my relatives are not fighting over my possessions after my death. I hope my remaining loved ones just feel lucky that they had me in their life. That is how I feel now about my grandma.
In our culture, the most glorious burial is offered at a heightened profit. I would call it unethical advertising. In your state of grief, you are told if you really love someone, you will put them away this way.
This makes no sense to me. They are dead for God's sake! Does it really matter what sort of box they reside in?
In Islam, it is preferable to be buried directly into the ground. No preservatives are supposed to be used, so the funeral is usually very quick after the death. And it is a social and religious obligation to attend the mourning, if not the burial.
We have lost sight of that here with memorial services, elaborately planned weeks after someone dies, at great expense. We did that for my grandfather's service and it prolonged closure and healing. I am glad we did my grandmother's service sooner, but I was disheartened to see that they had used preservatives and chosen a fancy (metal of some sort?) casket. How will she ever return to the earth?
In Islam, if it is necessary to be buried in a casket - as is often the case in the United States where money rules - it is supposed to be the most simple and inexpensive cedar casket, that can be absorbed back into the earth.
What do all these modern environmentalists think about these caskets that will likely NEVER decompose? That cost upwards of $10,000? What for? What could be done with that $10,000?
Amazing things!
I'm sure the new trend will be expensive "environmentally friendly" caskets. How ridiculous it all is.
I told my dad last week I want nothing from my grandmother. When someone has given you so much of themselves, nothing monetary or of substance is necessary. I have my memories. I have my pictures. I have every letter and card she ever gave me since I was about 7-years-old. I have her love. I have her spirit.
I took her remaining jewelry that the family did not want to church on Sunday and let the women pick out one or two items they liked. It will be fun to see the remnants of my grandma on all the other women in the church who meant so much to her.
I hope when I die, my family respects my wishes as they are outlined in my will. I want to be buried simply, next to my grandparents, overlooking the country, with little fanfare. I do not want to be pumped with a single chemical - just as I try to live now. I believe our bodies are a sacred temple.
I hope that I live a life like my grandmother where my relatives are not fighting over my possessions after my death. I hope my remaining loved ones just feel lucky that they had me in their life. That is how I feel now about my grandma.
The Widow's Offering
I am so blessed with such wonderful friends and family. My grandmother just passed yesterday and just today my mailbox was already filled with beautiful cards and notes. My dear friend dropped by a gorgeous orchid along with a very sweet card. It means so much to be thought of and to hear the warm sentiments from so many different people about Nano.
While I was with her these last few weeks, one particular parable kept coming to mind - that of the Widow's Offering.
Mark 12:41-44 (English Standard Version)
The Widow’s Offering
41 And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. 42And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. 43And he called his disciples to him and said to them, "Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. 44For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.
While I was with her these last few weeks, one particular parable kept coming to mind - that of the Widow's Offering.
Mark 12:41-44 (English Standard Version)
The Widow’s Offering
41 And he sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. 42And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. 43And he called his disciples to him and said to them, "Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. 44For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.
My Grandma Died
My grandma died yesterday. It was very quick and peaceful. I was able to be there with her, which is what I had hoped for.
She lived a wonderful life and died a wonderful death, with her family around her.
Our new pastor and many people from the church have also come by, called and emailed, and we are very grateful for that - as well for the many friends and family who have checked in these last few weeks.
The theme that has continually come up during my time with her is her grace and compassion towards everyone. I saw her be so sweet and kind with every person she came in contact with. Everyone in the hospital loved her. I know she felt so awful and yet she was never in a bad mood or foul with anyone.
I told our church secretary that the story of my grandma's life was caring about everyone else. Even in her final days, she was constantly asking about everyone, with so much care and compassion. And I was told when one of our church members came to pray with her, she asked her to pray for me because she was worried about me and the kids.
We have enjoyed the time singing hymns, reading from the Bible, reading poetry and listening to my dad's music - and of course, talking about everything. It is time that can never be replaced and I am so glad that we had it.
She loved all of us so much and I feel so grateful to have had such a wonderful grandma. In one of our talks alone she told me that she felt like she had a big role in raising us. And I agreed with that. She said, you had a rough run with things. And I told her I didn't think I could have made it through without her.
Nano always had a very strong feeling of right or wrong. However, I have to say that I have made some choices in my life that must have grated against every grain in her being. She never tried to control or sway me. She always respected and loved me through every phase of my life. And she never rubbed anything in my face.
I often think that you don't fully appreciate your family until you have your own children. And I have often guessed at the sacrifices she made for me, and I'm sure I will never begin to know the extent of everything she did. Because a true sacrifice is never advertised. It is just what you do for your family so that their life can be better. And all of us are better for my Nano.
Monday, May 3, 2010
I will survive on my own
Last night my son told me he thinks he knows what is going to happen now.
He said that he thinks I will get married to someone else.
I told him I did not want to get married again.
He asked me, then who will protect you?
I told him I would protect myself.
He told me that I needed to go get a Superman hat like the one my mom just bought him and wear it so that boys will like me.
I feel like I have failed him on some level as a feminist mother.
I did not think I had raised him with these values, but they are there. I'm really glad we got rid of the TV. Now that I think through it, there are very few role models for children of strong single women.
Nearly all the cartoons have a mother and father. I can't think of anything that doesn't have a mom and dad, married. Even in Up, a movie that I really loved, the boy was not fulfilled until another man took interest in him.
As we were driving to school this morning, he asked me to turn the stereo down. He said he heard something hit the car. When he got out, he took a tour around the car to make sure all the tires were OK before we drove off.
I don't want him to take on the job of my protector either. It is sweet, but he is only 7.
I need to work harder at showing him that I can survive on my own.
He said that he thinks I will get married to someone else.
I told him I did not want to get married again.
He asked me, then who will protect you?
I told him I would protect myself.
He told me that I needed to go get a Superman hat like the one my mom just bought him and wear it so that boys will like me.
I feel like I have failed him on some level as a feminist mother.
I did not think I had raised him with these values, but they are there. I'm really glad we got rid of the TV. Now that I think through it, there are very few role models for children of strong single women.
Nearly all the cartoons have a mother and father. I can't think of anything that doesn't have a mom and dad, married. Even in Up, a movie that I really loved, the boy was not fulfilled until another man took interest in him.
As we were driving to school this morning, he asked me to turn the stereo down. He said he heard something hit the car. When he got out, he took a tour around the car to make sure all the tires were OK before we drove off.
I don't want him to take on the job of my protector either. It is sweet, but he is only 7.
I need to work harder at showing him that I can survive on my own.
Leaving Home
I have been mentally preparing myself and the kids for the time that we will leave our home and move into something much smaller. I have come to terms with that for the most part. This is a large home to manage on my own, especially with the children, who need a lot of care and love - and also are prone to make messes the moment I clean something.
The irony is not lost on me that I have spent the last 2 years helping people stay in their homes, and I will lose mine.
I have spent the last 12 years helping hundreds of people improve their credit, and my credit is now tanked.
I have done all of this without cost to anyone or profit to me because it is something I believe in strongly. I used to think credit was an indication of character, and it sometimes is. But over the years I also found that many people were hit by forces they could not control, and I always tried to help those people.
Yesterday a man called to ask me to help him with his credit. I called him back and told him my grandmother was dying and I was not available. I know I am doing the right thing now, but I was also sad that I could not even refer him to someone else. I tried to explain that it was never part of my job, it was just something I did. Most mortgage brokers only care about profit.
Ironically, I also helped my husband improve his credit, which was very bad when I met him. But he seems to have no problem leaving me with this mess. He will always have his dad to bail him out and pay cash for anything. I don't have that option.
It is a hard thing to grapple with, partly because my ego is still attached to it. I took pride in my credit. I took pride in my home. And now both are gone.
But I do believe that better things will come. Credit is only a picture in time. It is never static and I can work to improve it. And I know I will be happier living somewhere else.
It's funny how losing things has shown me some of the lies I so eagerly believed.
I was so attached to my beautiful diamonds. It was so hard to take them off my finger. But now I rarely wear rings at all. I appreciate the simplicity of my fingers. I don't want another ring there. The rings now represent a false promise. My husband was never committed to me. The rings only represented that I was his. I was a possession. The rings were a reflection of him, not of me.
My children do not want to leave this home. It is all they have really known. I am sad for them, but I am trying to paint a happy picture filled with new possibilities and dreams.
I have been looking through many of the old pictures from my childhood. Some of the most comforting are of me in my grandparents home. My parents moved around after their divorce, but that home was a rock for me. I realized it was just the familiarity that meant so much to it - because it was their home and it was filled with so much love.
The irony is not lost on me that I have spent the last 2 years helping people stay in their homes, and I will lose mine.
I have spent the last 12 years helping hundreds of people improve their credit, and my credit is now tanked.
I have done all of this without cost to anyone or profit to me because it is something I believe in strongly. I used to think credit was an indication of character, and it sometimes is. But over the years I also found that many people were hit by forces they could not control, and I always tried to help those people.
Yesterday a man called to ask me to help him with his credit. I called him back and told him my grandmother was dying and I was not available. I know I am doing the right thing now, but I was also sad that I could not even refer him to someone else. I tried to explain that it was never part of my job, it was just something I did. Most mortgage brokers only care about profit.
Ironically, I also helped my husband improve his credit, which was very bad when I met him. But he seems to have no problem leaving me with this mess. He will always have his dad to bail him out and pay cash for anything. I don't have that option.
It is a hard thing to grapple with, partly because my ego is still attached to it. I took pride in my credit. I took pride in my home. And now both are gone.
But I do believe that better things will come. Credit is only a picture in time. It is never static and I can work to improve it. And I know I will be happier living somewhere else.
It's funny how losing things has shown me some of the lies I so eagerly believed.
I was so attached to my beautiful diamonds. It was so hard to take them off my finger. But now I rarely wear rings at all. I appreciate the simplicity of my fingers. I don't want another ring there. The rings now represent a false promise. My husband was never committed to me. The rings only represented that I was his. I was a possession. The rings were a reflection of him, not of me.
My children do not want to leave this home. It is all they have really known. I am sad for them, but I am trying to paint a happy picture filled with new possibilities and dreams.
I have been looking through many of the old pictures from my childhood. Some of the most comforting are of me in my grandparents home. My parents moved around after their divorce, but that home was a rock for me. I realized it was just the familiarity that meant so much to it - because it was their home and it was filled with so much love.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Exhausted
Caring for my grandmother has been exhausting, but fulfilling work. I am very grateful for the time that we have had. Someone remarked to me at church today that I am such an amazing granddaughter, then she paused and said, I suppose there is a reason for that. I smiled and told her yes, my grandma had been the most amazing grandma in the world.
Things are going relatively well, but my husband has started up on things again. I asked him yesterday how many times he wanted to keep going over all of this.
It seems like he is constantly going over the same things over and over. And he just still doesn't seem to get it.
I want this time with my grandma. He is offended that I am not coming to him for emotional support. He has been making a lot of insinuations that I must be getting my needs met elsewhere.
It is always about him. He even manages to twist this into him being the victim.
All I want him to do is to keep his promises and obligations to this family. I know better than to look to him for emotional support. I am pretty clear at this point in my life exactly who I can count on that from, and who is incapable of giving it.
He has started blaming me for the divorce and is trying to make me feel bad for wanting this. He thinks staying together would be "better for our children." I told him, he was entitled to his opinion, but I don't share it. He continued to argue with me about it and I told him I was done talking about it. We will never come to terms on this.
For someone who keeps saying he is so concerned for me right now, I don't know why he continually has to bring up all this old garbage. In my mind, it was processed and decided a long time ago. I am doing my best not to blame him or hold on to resentment. But these silly arguments make that continually difficult.
Things are going relatively well, but my husband has started up on things again. I asked him yesterday how many times he wanted to keep going over all of this.
It seems like he is constantly going over the same things over and over. And he just still doesn't seem to get it.
I want this time with my grandma. He is offended that I am not coming to him for emotional support. He has been making a lot of insinuations that I must be getting my needs met elsewhere.
It is always about him. He even manages to twist this into him being the victim.
All I want him to do is to keep his promises and obligations to this family. I know better than to look to him for emotional support. I am pretty clear at this point in my life exactly who I can count on that from, and who is incapable of giving it.
He has started blaming me for the divorce and is trying to make me feel bad for wanting this. He thinks staying together would be "better for our children." I told him, he was entitled to his opinion, but I don't share it. He continued to argue with me about it and I told him I was done talking about it. We will never come to terms on this.
For someone who keeps saying he is so concerned for me right now, I don't know why he continually has to bring up all this old garbage. In my mind, it was processed and decided a long time ago. I am doing my best not to blame him or hold on to resentment. But these silly arguments make that continually difficult.
Work
Then a ploughman said, "Speak to us of Work."
And he answered, saying:
You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite.
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?
Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,
And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.
You have been told also life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.
And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,
And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,
And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,
And all work is empty save when there is love;
And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.
And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, "he who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is a nobler than he who ploughs the soil.
And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet."
But I say, not in sleep but in the over-wakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass;
And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.
Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.
-Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, "On Work"
And he answered, saying:
You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life's procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission towards the infinite.
When you work you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all else sings together in unison?
Always you have been told that work is a curse and labour a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work you fulfil a part of earth's furthest dream, assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour you are in truth loving life,
And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret.
But if you in your pain call birth an affliction and the support of the flesh a curse written upon your brow, then I answer that naught but the sweat of your brow shall wash away that which is written.
You have been told also life is darkness, and in your weariness you echo what was said by the weary.
And I say that life is indeed darkness save when there is urge,
And all urge is blind save when there is knowledge,
And all knowledge is vain save when there is work,
And all work is empty save when there is love;
And when you work with love you bind yourself to yourself, and to one another, and to God.
And what is it to work with love?
It is to weave the cloth with threads drawn from your heart, even as if your beloved were to wear that cloth.
It is to build a house with affection, even as if your beloved were to dwell in that house.
It is to sow seeds with tenderness and reap the harvest with joy, even as if your beloved were to eat the fruit.
It is to charge all things you fashion with a breath of your own spirit,
And to know that all the blessed dead are standing about you and watching.
Often have I heard you say, as if speaking in sleep, "he who works in marble, and finds the shape of his own soul in the stone, is a nobler than he who ploughs the soil.
And he who seizes the rainbow to lay it on a cloth in the likeness of man, is more than he who makes the sandals for our feet."
But I say, not in sleep but in the over-wakefulness of noontide, that the wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass;
And he alone is great who turns the voice of the wind into a song made sweeter by his own loving.
Work is love made visible.
And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.
For if you bake bread with indifference, you bake a bitter bread that feeds but half man's hunger.
And if you grudge the crushing of the grapes, your grudge distils a poison in the wine.
And if you sing though as angels, and love not the singing, you muffle man's ears to the voices of the day and the voices of the night.
-Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet, "On Work"
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