The day after Mother's Day I found myself asking most of my friends at work if they had had a nice mother's day. Why? Because I wanted to know and truly was hoping that they did. I heard about some wonderful experiences about some nice dinners, breakfasts, walks, talks. But I heard about some not so wonderful days from two moms who were quite upset because their kids had basically ignored them all day.
On Mother's Day, I had found myself again driven to send emails to the bereaved mothers I know to let them know I was thinking of them and to also help them (and me) get through the day. I sent six mothers each an email. I sent one email to my good friend Jody whose only son Seth committed suicide and another to a mother with two children one of whom committed suicide. I emailed two mothers who each had had a child who died of a freak accident and two mothers who each had a child who died from a rare illness.
I had shaken my head in amazement that Jody could get through yet another Mother's Day. (I find it unimaginable her going through her 11th Mother's Day without Seth.) Jody was the first close friend of mine whose child I came to know well; she was the first parent who I knew well enough to know a lot about her parenting skills. She was the mother whose superb child rearing skills I strove to emulate since my first child was born 15 years after hers.
I sent these six women emails because on mother's day I was thinking that all of these women were remarkable. You see I had spent April 11th, the five year anniversary of Jeff's death, thinking about some other remarkable women I know. On the 11th, I had been going through one of several drawers in my bedroom containing mostly memorabilia related to Jeff. In the process of going through the stuff, I found a small piece of paper with the names of five women whose paths for about 4-5 years coincided with mine. I had written their names on this piece of paper and tacked the paper up on my (very old) bedroom bookcase shelf in the fall of 1997, right after Jim had left us. (I am very big into putting messages for myself in places where I can see them frequently so as to give myself more or less positive affirmations which help me through the day.) It was the thought of the strength of these women who got me through my divorce.
What is odd, what I realized on Mother's Day when I went to email some of my new friends from my "bereaved parents" group of friends, was that I didn't need the first list --or any list like it really, anymore. Cuz if I were to need a list of people to help me get through the day, it wouldn't just be a list of strong women, it would be a list of strong men and women. And it would contain maybe three people 1) Phil, whose son Adam last year killed his (Adam's) two children and then committed suicide; 2) Jody and 3) John, who a) survived having a cancerous tumor removed from his face last October along with six weeks of chemo and radiation; b) is now back to working a job which requires him every day to meet new people with the knowledge that his face has been permanently disfigured because of the cancer; c) continues to be one of the most loving, caring person I know and d) still has energy to laugh at himself and make me laugh.
Yep, these three people and myself (if I am having a good day at least) are my new living heroes/heroines.
In my worse moments, I feel like my life epitomizes someone who got the "short straw": a very short bout of a relatively harmless cancer; a messy, ugly divorce; more periods of unemployment or underemployment in my work life than any one person I know; inadequate family income to replace my 13 year old car, my backyard fence that is falling down and my crappy windows which contribute to an exorbitant heating bill each year...; the loss of my amazing 14 year old son; and a honey who had face cancer and must live the rest of his life with the consequences.
All in all, even though my Mother's Day could have been much better, it DID have its wonderful moments. I attended my stepson's college graduation and had a celebratory lunch with him, John, John's ex wife and her husband. I had a fantastic dinner with Doug who I continue to be incredibly proud of and his girlfriend Sam. AND throughout the day I connected with Jeff who continues to be with me at all time although he soars while we continue to walk through life.
On Mother's Day, I had found myself again driven to send emails to the bereaved mothers I know to let them know I was thinking of them and to also help them (and me) get through the day. I sent six mothers each an email. I sent one email to my good friend Jody whose only son Seth committed suicide and another to a mother with two children one of whom committed suicide. I emailed two mothers who each had had a child who died of a freak accident and two mothers who each had a child who died from a rare illness.
I had shaken my head in amazement that Jody could get through yet another Mother's Day. (I find it unimaginable her going through her 11th Mother's Day without Seth.) Jody was the first close friend of mine whose child I came to know well; she was the first parent who I knew well enough to know a lot about her parenting skills. She was the mother whose superb child rearing skills I strove to emulate since my first child was born 15 years after hers.
I sent these six women emails because on mother's day I was thinking that all of these women were remarkable. You see I had spent April 11th, the five year anniversary of Jeff's death, thinking about some other remarkable women I know. On the 11th, I had been going through one of several drawers in my bedroom containing mostly memorabilia related to Jeff. In the process of going through the stuff, I found a small piece of paper with the names of five women whose paths for about 4-5 years coincided with mine. I had written their names on this piece of paper and tacked the paper up on my (very old) bedroom bookcase shelf in the fall of 1997, right after Jim had left us. (I am very big into putting messages for myself in places where I can see them frequently so as to give myself more or less positive affirmations which help me through the day.) It was the thought of the strength of these women who got me through my divorce.
What is odd, what I realized on Mother's Day when I went to email some of my new friends from my "bereaved parents" group of friends, was that I didn't need the first list --or any list like it really, anymore. Cuz if I were to need a list of people to help me get through the day, it wouldn't just be a list of strong women, it would be a list of strong men and women. And it would contain maybe three people 1) Phil, whose son Adam last year killed his (Adam's) two children and then committed suicide; 2) Jody and 3) John, who a) survived having a cancerous tumor removed from his face last October along with six weeks of chemo and radiation; b) is now back to working a job which requires him every day to meet new people with the knowledge that his face has been permanently disfigured because of the cancer; c) continues to be one of the most loving, caring person I know and d) still has energy to laugh at himself and make me laugh.
Yep, these three people and myself (if I am having a good day at least) are my new living heroes/heroines.
In my worse moments, I feel like my life epitomizes someone who got the "short straw": a very short bout of a relatively harmless cancer; a messy, ugly divorce; more periods of unemployment or underemployment in my work life than any one person I know; inadequate family income to replace my 13 year old car, my backyard fence that is falling down and my crappy windows which contribute to an exorbitant heating bill each year...; the loss of my amazing 14 year old son; and a honey who had face cancer and must live the rest of his life with the consequences.
All in all, even though my Mother's Day could have been much better, it DID have its wonderful moments. I attended my stepson's college graduation and had a celebratory lunch with him, John, John's ex wife and her husband. I had a fantastic dinner with Doug who I continue to be incredibly proud of and his girlfriend Sam. AND throughout the day I connected with Jeff who continues to be with me at all time although he soars while we continue to walk through life.
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