Knowledge is Power and Anger is Your Friend

"Anger is your friend" my friend reminded me the other night. If that is true, then it is certainly a friend I have not wanted in my life. For a peace lover like me, it is the last feeling I want to experience. Yet last night when I least expected it, it sprung to life.

I have always found it was hard to be angry for myself. As lives go, mine has certainly had some justified moments of anger but often I have chosen to try to ignore it. To me it was uncomfortable and unlady-like. When I witnessed someone else in a moment of anger, I have often thought they lacked self control. Part of this I attribute to my childhood.  As the middle child of parents who were often in conflict, I worked hard to make things run smoothly. It took me a long time to realize that the actions of others were out of my control.

Of all the silly things the purchase of a yearbook unleashed my fury. I never thought I was one to have a strong maternal instinct yet I realized yesterday just how strong it was. Tired from rising early, I had fallen asleep by 9 pm. Abby awoke me to tell me Dan needed a ride home. Finishing an acting class for high school, he was performing in a final exam and was now done. He had tried his dad but couldn't reach him. In a minute, Abby and I were on our way.

When we split up Gary and I had agreed that Dan and Kate would live with him and Abby with me. In lieu of child support back and forth, I would pay for whatever Abby needed and he for Dan and Kate. In theory a good system, but as of late I was finding that even for basic necessities, I was covering more then we had agreed upon.  And then there was the issue of rides, in the past week alone because Gary was "unavailable" I had provided at least ten rides. Unfortunately I couldn't recall once in the last month when these favors to Gary  had been reciprocated.

Dan mentioned on the way home that he wanted to purchase a yearbook. At sixty dollars a book hardly a bargain. Dan told me that it contained a special section on the play he had played a lead role in the past fall. This play had marked a special milestone  for him. After a very rough freshman year of school and a year away, this activity celebrated his outstanding achievement in successfully integrating back into high school. Short of cash, I advised him to ask his father to write a check and I would reimburse Gary on Friday. He was concerned that Gary would tell him that he had no cash. Abby piped up - well, he just bought Rebecca an engagement ring so I think he has the money. Something in me snapped.

In an almost twenty year relationship I wanted only one material thing. An engagement ring. It became a running joke between the two of us as we had never seemed to have the resources to purchase it. Nearly twenty years as a devoted wife who worked through cancer treatment, held two jobs for many years, supported career moves and his several job losses and played mother to my step-daughters had not earned it. Yet in a relationship that supposedly had only existed for five and a half months a ring was the reward. What added to the sting was that I had listened for the last several months to all his stories of his lack of funds and had continued to pitch in to help the children above and beyond our agreement.  Sadly, I had been duped once again.  The story might end there if I had not picked up the phone to ask if he would work with me to buy Dan's yearbook He snapped and told me what rotten kids they were and that he did not have money for such a purchase. I recoiled and he hung up before I could speak again. I called back and yelled into the phone. You can't buy your son a stinking pair of shoes yet you have money to buy an engagement ring. I think you can buy your kid a stinking yearbook and then I abruptly hung up. The tsunami of anger had been released and came rushing forward.And with it the kernel of truth I had not wanted to really face. That in all those years together he had never once loved me. It was a freeing moment.... anger was truly my friend.

Part of  me laments the realization of spending over a third of my life with someone who didn't care for me although I have three amazing kids to show for it. Another part doubts that I will ever find someone who will love and care for me as me at this late stage of life. It is true though that knowledge is power and armed with that I hope if the opportunity arises I know I will now make wiser choices. My friend was right.....anger is my friend.

Words and Deeds

Sitting waiting to get my haircut one Saturday morning, I read an article in a women's magazine. It referenced the words of a French poet whose name I've long forgotten. Loosely translated, he declared "Love is an Action." As I read it it struck me that there, in the most unusual of places, I was learning a lesson. For someone who always considered herself a fast study, it seemed incredible that this thought had not dawned on me before. I tucked it away and like all good lessons would need to think and digest on it before it really made sense.

Four days ago for the first time in my adult life, I felt like giving up. While we all have those fleeting thoughts from time to time, I knew something was different when I could not shake the feeling after two days. The culmination of many stressors had taken its toll in dramatic fashion.  At work, after two very grueling months of trying to reach a fund raising goal, I had fallen short by nearly $150,000. A perfect record of twenty one years of goal achievement was shattered. At home, childrens' schedules and demand for my time (or at least my ability to drive them places) was heating up.  On Friday, May 13th,  my marriage, which I had treasured for many years ceased to exist. Then, before I could catch my breath, as I arrived to pick up Abby after a long Saturday at work, my friend Mary Ann pulled me aside. "You should know," she said, "that Gary called Abby today to tell her he is engaged." Although it was an outcome I had predicted for almost four years, the words nearly knocked me off my feet. The judge's ink had hardly dried on our divorce decree and he was getting married. Sunday I took to my bed thinking I might never rise again.

For two days I functioned on auto pilot. In a pervasive numbness, I drove the children to school, went to work, attended to their needs after work and tried not to think of anything. While the world is full of suffering much larger than mine I wondered what I had done to deserve all of this at once. I went to bed feeling tired and defeated.

Just a few hours later I awoke feeling rested and refreshed with an overwhelming feeling that things would be o.k.  Nothing had changed but in that tiny window of sleep two comforting memories had filled my thoughts. The first took me back nearly ten years. That spring day I had been too tired from my chemo treatments to put on my wig. Standing in the door of Dan's classroom another mother noticed that I was undergoing cancer treatments. She said nothing but a few days later  the phone rang. The school community had been made aware of my illness and was wondering if they could support us by providing dinner for us each school day. These meals continued each day, without a hitch for the next six months. For our struggling family, this was really love in action. I have forgotten many things in the last ten years, but never the face and name of the woman who saw this need and filled it.

The second memory is much more recent. As the weather grew warm, I began to turn on my car's air conditioning. For more than three years, each spring I would hold my breath wondering if the system would work. The problem seemed intermittent yet without fail the system would stop on the hottest days of summer or when I was going somewhere of importance. I had asked Gary to look at it several times and he had made several excuses - "I'm not a mechanic he would say," "I'm just not good at that stuff." In hindsight I realized that I hadn't wanted a mechanic - just someone concerned enough to help me figure out the problem.
Determined to get it fixed once and for all, I ask one of my smartest friends if he thought I should take it to our local mechanic. Without asking he leapt into action researching the problem, buying the parts, fixing the car and saving me from a huge and unaffordable repair bill. I was blown away by this amazing gesture of kindness.

As a society we are obsessed with words. Will the boss tell me I'm doing a good job? When will my boyfriend say "I love you" ?  In my life I can't recall when any boyfriend of mine told me for the first time that they loved me but I will always remember six months of meals and a repaired air conditioning system. In my struggle I had forgotten to see that the love I needed did not need to be verbalized to comfort me; it was all around me in the caring deeds of my friends and family and would see me through this hard time. The lesson has finally stuck.

What's In A Name - Or Title?

On May 13th, by the stroke of a pen I lost several titles: wife, stepmother, daughter-in law, sister-in law (to some), aunt (to some also). I somehow find this ironic that this happened on a Friday, the 13th but then the marriage began three years to the day  my grandmother passed away. I am not typically superstitious although things have turned around a little since I got rid of that license plate with the 666 on it.

 In some ways receiving divorce papers reminds me of those deaths where the final cause of death awaits toxicology reports. You know the patient is dead and nothing will change that but that final report closes the case so that everyone can move on. The night I went to the mailbox and got the papers my niece was here to store her things until the next college year. There was no dramatic music in the background and no tears but simply a quiet glance at the documents and then on to the next task.

The thing about being married for such a long time is that it becomes a way of life. I have been in significant relationships since the age of twenty - well over half my entire life. And while I don't need a significant other in my life to make me feel whole there is this recurring feeling of  having forgotten something that strikes me from time to time.  I have grieved the loss of the specific person and now I am grieving the loss of the role.

There is a family that remains where I once was a daughter-in law and a sister in law. My marriage may be over but I still care for them. In the best divorces there is respect and understanding that bonds though not legally tied still exist in our hearts. But as we all know things are never quite the same.

So with cautious optimism I look forward to a possible new title that I've not had in many years - girlfriend.The word itself sounds young and exciting.  I have always been a Pollyanna at heart and truly think the best is yet to be. This process has made me grow in ways I never thought possible and through the love and support of my family and friends I am becoming stronger than ever before. And so begins a new chapter.....