My Grandmother came face to face with a full fledged pre teen hissy fit. She sat on my bed, in her calm, no nonsense ,voice she said " Sweetheart, get dressed, if you quit every time things don't go your way , how will you ever accomplish anything? "Were not quitters" Then she said something I think of often " Showing up is most of the battle". I got dressed and walked to practice. By the time school started 1 girl moved, another broke her leg horse back riding and a third just didn't want to be a cheerleader . Even with a low score, I eventually made the team.
Looking back I doubt my grand mother had any idea how powerful her statement was going to be in my life. When she encouraged me to force myself to go, I learned to show up even when school or work wasn't pleasant. I learned to take responsibility. She taught me not to give up.
As I was turning down yet another invitation, I heard my grandmother admonish me" Showing up is half the battle". So I forced myself to go, no excuses. I barely knew the woman who invited me . I like her now, a lot, I already think of her as a friend. It was a nice time. It felt good to put on something pretty and engage in small talk, a great event for a good cause. The inevitable heart stopping question came up, " how many children do you have? " I answered truthfully 3 boys then gave their ages. When my new buddy inquired about their lives, I deflected the question, asking about her children. I left before everyone else, walked a few blocks down the street to a friends crowded shop. It had been so long since I stopped by to see my friend , it was awkward. She and her partner had no idea I wasn't just avoiding them , I was avoiding everyone. One particularly cruel comment , had sent me into hiding. When you have lost two children, people talk. Some of the things they say, true or not, hurt deeply. In a community where I know so many moms, It seems there is always someone willing to call and repeat something unsavory, under the guise of warning. It's my job not to listen anymore.
My grandmother was right " Half the battle is showing up" or at least for me it is. I am a social person . Once I get to an occasion I am usually ok. I love my friends and fun. I have learned that I don't need everyone to honor my grief and sadness.
There can't be anymore hiding. This is not the way I wanted my life to go, life didn't really care what I planned. Life had it's own set of plans. Now I have to steer down a new road, show up in a new place in a new way. The boys deserved to be honored. I have contributions to make this world . I'll be damned if I let mean people or my own demons win.
Looking back I doubt my grand mother had any idea how powerful her statement was going to be in my life. When she encouraged me to force myself to go, I learned to show up even when school or work wasn't pleasant. I learned to take responsibility. She taught me not to give up.
The passing of my boys, made me uneasy at social gatherings. A few unexpected, insensitive statements gave me good reason to hide at home. It's been 9 years since Gavin passed, we are rounding the ben of 4 years since Ryan got his wings. I have survived. There were days , I wasn't sure if I could. It is still really hard. So here I am. I have ignored friends, avoided parties and life has gone on without me. Most friends gave me a year or two then got offended. I still get Christmas cards but fewer and fewer calls. Yes, I have missed uncomfortable questions and comments, I have also missed support, laughs and camaraderie. Hiding hasn't helped. I feel like an outsider in my own life.
As I was turning down yet another invitation, I heard my grandmother admonish me" Showing up is half the battle". So I forced myself to go, no excuses. I barely knew the woman who invited me . I like her now, a lot, I already think of her as a friend. It was a nice time. It felt good to put on something pretty and engage in small talk, a great event for a good cause. The inevitable heart stopping question came up, " how many children do you have? " I answered truthfully 3 boys then gave their ages. When my new buddy inquired about their lives, I deflected the question, asking about her children. I left before everyone else, walked a few blocks down the street to a friends crowded shop. It had been so long since I stopped by to see my friend , it was awkward. She and her partner had no idea I wasn't just avoiding them , I was avoiding everyone. One particularly cruel comment , had sent me into hiding. When you have lost two children, people talk. Some of the things they say, true or not, hurt deeply. In a community where I know so many moms, It seems there is always someone willing to call and repeat something unsavory, under the guise of warning. It's my job not to listen anymore. My grandmother was right " Half the battle is showing up" or at least for me it is. I am a social person . Once I get to an occasion I am usually ok. I love my friends and fun. I have learned that I don't need everyone to honor my grief and sadness.
There can't be anymore hiding. This is not the way I wanted my life to go, life didn't really care what I planned. Life had it's own set of plans. Now I have to steer down a new road, show up in a new place in a new way. The boys deserved to be honored. I have contributions to make this world . I'll be damned if I let mean people or my own demons win.
When I falter , for strength, I talk to other moms going through exactly the same set of emotions. We share compassion and tactics for coping. The power of a kind word is incredibly healing. I have learned , at events, If the conversation gets uncomfortable, I can excuse myself. When someone asks prying questions that start with "I hope you don't mind if I ask...." I just say "Thank you for your concern, I'm having such a nice time, I would rather not talk about it . " If you are already my friend and have a question, Please ask, I am happy to answer. I want to answer. I just don't feel the need any longer to share my story with every new acquaintance.
In the early days the wound was so open I bled every time anyone asked or spoke about children. Today I console myself with the fact that I do have 3 children and 2 grand children. It doesn't matter where my boys live, they are alive in me. I can speak of them, it feels good to say their names. There is not a moment, an hour, a day , I don't regret losing them. Family events will always have a dark cloud hovering, birthdays, holidays all hurt but I am learning to live with the clouds. Sun can shine through clouds.
Like money and religion grief isn't cocktail conversation. Like an accident, some people slow down not to help but rather, looking for blood. I finally recognize those people and politely move away. I no longer listen to gossip. It eventually causes pain , no matter how well intended. I don't want to be part of causing others pain. Changing how I react, working on short comings,made an impact, I have found lovely new friends, some have lost children too, others are just good people.
We each have our own story . It belongs to us, the emotions, the reasons, the pain , are our own. This life was meant to teach us and we each have our set of challenges. None of us ,owe the community at large an explanation. We owe ourselves compassion, moving forward at our own pace. Growing from pain , becoming better , this is my goal. So I am going to show up as much as I can . Life is precious. We don't always have the luxury of waiting for the sunshine, sometimes you just have to dance in the rain.
Namaste
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