I have felt quite angry lately. I don't even like to spend time with myself because of my poor attitude. I realize anger is a part of grieving and I must be grieving. It was two weeks ago today that Mom died and I have not had a deep, boo-hoo, hiccup-making cry yet. May or may not - time will tell. There are many times that I think of something humorous that happened that I'd like to tell her next time we talk on the phone; then I remember she can no longer hear well enough to hear me on the phone; then I remember she isn't near a phone. I laugh at myself because I know it will take a while to adapt to the new change. Yet, I know she was ready to go and she's with Dad and I'm happy for her and him and for Jesus who orchestrated the whole thing.
Yet, I know in heaven she knows and she is known. (1 Cor. 13.12 - "I shall fully know, as also I was known") I believe she now fully knows me and fully accepts me. That was not possible when she was on earth. It gives me comfort and joy to experience that now. I am happy for that. I am happy for her that she is now known by God and accepted fully. I love the story of the prodigal son and am reading Henri Nouwin's book, "The Return of the Prodigal." Fully loved and accepted - whether the returning prodigal or the stay-at-home bitter older son. Both are loved and accepted. So am I. I feel accepted by God - just as I am... a little bit younger son and a little bit older son included in my character.
I have become dissatisfied with my life. I love when I recognize that gentle, inner gnawing that makes me uncomfortable and dissatisfied; because it is God's way of growing me up. I no longer fear those times of mild or intense dissatisfaction because I know the rewards of growth will become great. (I just re-read the Beatitudes and they fit here beautifully.)
I was mentally itemizing what things might be annoying me and can be changed to grow me into greater life satisfaction. It hit me in church - like a ton of bricks. I love my church family and feel accepted and loved; the people's unconditional love and acceptance has given me the courage and strength to grow. I am grateful for Father Gerald who has touched my life with that type of love... which doesn't mean he can't be a burr under my saddle at times... yet I try to pass on to others the Christ-like, brotherly love he's shown me. Okay, so I have a terrific church. Hallelujah! But that's only a few hours on Sunday for 4-5 months a year and more the other 7-8 months - so that means I can't expect my church activities to meet that need to accept and be accepted. Although that helps meet my need for belonging, there is still a big gap in filling that need. I think that will be the growth - how to feel I belong when it's sporadic and very transitional; or what can I do to fill the gap, even with my limited energy?
The first thought was take in foster children and give them a place to feel accepted and where they belong (at least temporarily). I don't think my health or age would allow that.I doubt if I'd meet the requirements for such a responsibility.
Next thought was finding a partner. Then I laughed at myself. Not because I'm against remarriage, but hunting for an intimate, rest-of-my-life relationship so I feel I belong would be the wrong motive. I won't do that to me or some man. It's an unrealistic expectation to place that "make me feel I belong" onto one person. What a weight to expect one person to carry. No way! A few days before she passed, Mom said her and Dad had discussed me and they were hoping I would remarry - parental pressure from the grave, eh? That's left me a bit confused since Mom was so against that after I divorced 5 years ago. It's a moot point since there's nobody I'm interested in or that has shown interest in me. I'll let God figure it out and I'll remain open to God. Most of the time, I'm very content solo; I have a few good women friends who are there for me and I feel very blessed.
Next thought was finding ways to connect with my children. When both sons and 8 of my 10 grandchildren were together at Mom's bedside, it was so wonderful to have extended family near. Sharing history, enjoying laughter, comforting each other, nursing Mom and getting reacquainted. I miss that long-term connectedness so much. It was the first time my two sets of grandchildren met each other and they had a blast. Two of the little girls cousins enjoyed dance and were having a terrific time talking about that and dancing around the common room at the rest home - to the smiles of the residents. The boy and one girl cousins enjoyed art and they were busy making posters for my mother and others. The teen girl was practicing her ASL (American Sign Language) with one of the deaf residents. The toddler was enjoying the attention of being the only preschooler. My two daughters-in-law were talking like old friends. My niece, her partner and her oldest daughter were there and I gained a greater respect for the compassion, intuition and giving that Gypsy ministered to others - took my breath away. What a powerful woman. I discovered her partner, Patrick, is a wonderful man and see why my niece is crazy-in-love with him. It was so wonderful to be a part of it all. It was amazing to watch the dynamics between people develop and grow. Because of our grief, we were able to put down the defenses and walls and be there for each other in new ways. I am so very grateful for that time. That healing time. As my sister said, even in her death, Mom was still teaching us.
I love living here, but there are times I miss family so much I can hardly stand it. If the US government doesn't increase the retirement age, in four more years I'll be eligible to come back to the US. That means all but two grandchildren will be teens. I will have missed their infant through childhood years and have almost-adult grandkids. I love children and wanted a dozen; but I love my two sons deeply and I'm grateful God chose them to grow next to my heart and in my heart and in my life. I love them very much. But they are so far away. It is so hard to stay close so far away. It is hard to stay connected when they are busy with their families of 5 children each (so far) and working on their MBA degrees while working full time. I'm grateful they want to continue to grow educationally - they learned that from me! I'm not complaining, just stating the time constraints and respect that as I know their families are priority - and I taught them that. It's great to see that happening - they are both wonderful daddies... the youngest quit work for several years to be the stay-at-home-daddy. They are awesome men and picked compatible wives.
Like I usually do when something is upsetting, I read about it, study it, figure out what it's about and then experience it. I was surprised to read there is grieving after immigration and it hits missionaries particularly hard. I'm obviously not a missionary; but a woman who followed her heart to an island that has it's own national culture (as it was it's own country until 1949); but the island somewhat shares the same English language but some dialects and words are still confusing to me. Yes, it was an adjustment but I adapted to the changes when I arrived out of my love for ex. After his betrayal, I had to remain here because I am unable to get health insurance nor am I able to work full time if a company could hire and insure me in the US. One thing Obamacare has done is lowered the pre-existing disease to 12 months, so I'd only have to wait a year after working full time to be insured and hope my disease didn't flare up and I'd lose everything I've worked for to pay the medical bills; but I don't think I am able work 40 hours a week, thus, I'm not eligible for insurance. That means Canada is home for 4 more years minimum or whenever I'm eligible for US old-age health insurance.
I've often tried to look at the bright side: at least living 4,313 KM away, I can't be accused of being a meddling mother-in-law. So that is the silver-lining blessing. It's 3,722 KM from where I live to London, England. OMG, I'm a long way away and I didn't bring Toto with me on this yellow-brick road.
I am done grieving the loss of my exes, my children, my US citizenship, my health, etc... but I haven't grieved not getting to dandle grand babies on my knee. Seeing them for a few days a year just isn't enough to carve a relationship or have sleep-overs. So, I need to grieve that loss and maybe that will help me figure out how to grieve for Mom.
I miss my offspring. I miss my beloved niece. I miss I didn't have the chance to know my great-nieces.Yet, I live in the age of e-mail, phones, flights - and I know in my grandmothers' time, women left their homes to travel to other countries or other parts of the country when they may only get to share a letter every few years. I know I need to grieve; but I know I am blessed, too.
I don't know what God is growing in me; but first I will grieve and I trust He will show the next step. I pray it brings me into feeling greater belonging and connectedness - to not feel so isolated or alienated. I talked to Mom about that once. She said from age 47 when dad died until she turned 70 and her co-workers and friends' husbands start to die like flies, then she finally felt greater acceptance by other widows/women. She said single mature women are alienated which is why many rush out and remarry so they will be socially accepted. That is comforting and discomforting. That may mean 7 more years; and it means grief and pain for others as they adjust to losing a loved one; but it is comforting that I may not always feel so alienated. Or maybe God will teach me to feel belonging even if it's on such a sporadic basis. I will continue to trust Him to lead me on the journey that He has planned for my good.
Well, that's a vulnerable blog entry. A bit more self-disclosing then I'm really comfortable with. But it is where I am right now.
