Life Topics

Advice to Myself

I try to tame my wiry hair by running my shaking hand through it.  There’s no way to make sense of this mop.  Truthfully, I stopped trying a long time ago.  I’ve been gray since I was 50, over a half a century ago!  I have to chuckle because back then I felt old, having no idea.   I am alone in the world now.  My family is gone, my husband is gone, and I have only one child left who is in bad health. I brought him into the world when I was just 19 years old, and now he is about to turn 80 years old.  My other son died suddenly 20 years ago, but I cannot talk about it because it pierces my heart whenever I do.   I will put on some pink lipstick, as I’ve always done, and sit in my overstuffed floral chair by the bright window.  Lowering myself backward carefully with bended elbows, hands on each chair arm, I slowly shift myself into place.  Closing my eyes, I exhale a long breath.  Today, I want to re-visit my life, endearing experiences, tragic mistakes, and joyful moments.  See these ghosts that live with me in every breath.  Have a conversation with a person who will turn out to be me someday.  Advice after the fact and after a long time. Listen now.

You were careless and contrary.  Do you know how much trouble you could have gotten into?  You drove drunk in high school with a car full of friends.  You lived only for the moment, the party, the thrill.  Your Mom and Dad had guarded trust in you, and you stomped all over that.  They gave you the keys to their only car.  Were you unique in some way? Probably not.  Teenagers don’t anticipate or truly believe in consequences.  Punishment was like a far away shadow that doesn’t seem real, or really matter.  Ignore it and have a good time you thought.  So, what’s the problem?  Your actions put you in a place of depravity.  Be responsible and give yourself the grace that you owe yourself and others.

Have some self-respect and protect those you love. 


You were oblivious and self-destructive
.  As you entered your twenties, you dated the wrong men.  They were frequently handsome, funny, and overwhelmingly selfish.  Craving the love you were missing in your life, you would often seek out carefree players.  This would only contribute to your lack of confidence.  You were very pretty, yes, and there was never a time you were without a companion.  You were strong in many ways, but inside very weak.  This downfall lead you down the wrong path as you weren’t being your true self.  Until you met a controlling man who made you feel special, at least for a while.  That marriage taught you so much.  His voice rang in your head for years after it was over, “You’re stupid, you’re ugly, you’re crazy.”  He was a monster.  You learned a lifetime of lessons.

Have self-worth and an undying spirit to fly anywhere you want.

 

You were inexperienced and ignorant.  Raising your children was a struggle as a single mother.  Making ends meet was very difficult.  Every day was a battle to keep your head above water, racing to work, and racing home.  They were brilliant children.  They loved to play and hike and explore.  We had so much fun together.  But, you weren’t perfect by a long shot, no parents are.  You would shout or lose patience without stopping to think.  Think about how this made them feel.  Punishing your son, and later finding out it was his father who told him to lie.  You were devastated.  It wasn’t his fault.  You were a young mother with little resources to offer, only a heart full of love.   Which is more than some parents have.  You were scattered and unfocused much of the time, juggling work, dating, and children.   Yes, you always put your kids first after sorting out other influences, other attractions.

Forgive yourself and others, focus on what’s important.

You were trusting and naive.  After years of failed relationships, you met the man of my dreams.  He checked all the boxes and then some.  There were no lessons to learn, and you seemed to have it all together.  But even a perfect situation deserved additional attention.  The scars from your marriage ran deep and you had to relearn critical nuances in communication.  He was loving and patient and brought out the best in you.  He would challenge you and make you look within yourself.  However, sometimes your baggage would disrupt an innocent conversation.  It could be tough to understand what something meant, and that was confusing.  You had never had a real partner before.  There was nothing I would change about this choice; he brought you the happiness you deserved for so long.  But, there was a learning curve where you needed to be more giving and open. Over time, you learned to dance together, feeding your emotions of joy through commitment.  We had a happy marriage.

Invest in those you love, be vulnerable and honest.

I start to nod off in my chair as the sun shifts to early evening.  There are more shadows in the room than light.  My thoughts fade in and out, as I remember the sweet smile of my husband, and the laughter of my children.  My heart aches for the happiness that spilled through my fingers, feeling grateful at the same time.  All these memories bring me to a place that is almost unfamiliar.  Time has dulled many details like the warmth of my parents’ hugs, the softness of my dog’s coat and the excitement of a first kiss.    All I have is this room, this chair and these memories.  This girl turned out okay without the guidance of an old woman.  A woman who unrealistically thinks her life could have skipped heartache and pain.  Emotions that helped build a foundation of who I would become, how I learned, and where I would go.  This “advice” I wanted to give doesn’t really matter.  It was her journey full of faults and mistakes that was predestined.  I needed to fall along the way to have the strength to turn my head toward the light.

Have an open heart and live a good life.

 

Life Topics

Beth

I was having trouble keeping up with him.  His gate was long and determined the way he plodded and leaned forward into the wind.  It was dark and frigid with just a hint of moonlight.  I remember this neighborhood; I could make out the house. We passed it without a thought.   I could only see the side of his face, as he would not look at me.  In the dark, I could tell his clothes were all black, as his coat blew back and forth.  I would sporadically glance over to try to detect some emotion.  There was nothing.  He stared straight ahead. I was desperate to know.  I was willing him to remember me and just answer my question.   But he had no interest in acknowledging me.

He was her father for God’s sake!  He owed it to me.  I loved her.  He looked 40 years younger than I remember him, with a chiseled weathered profile and dark eyes.  A younger man who I never knew. Why was he treating me like a stranger?  How many times had I had dinner at his house, or swam in his pool?
“Where is she,” I pleaded again?  He grunted and stared forward.  Did it pain him, or was I the thorn in his side?  I learned what happened to her months afterward, shocked to read about it.  She was the baby of the family, so I almost understood his stoic pained look.

We reached the end of the street.  The silence this time of night was both eerie and comforting.  He turned to face me, and without saying a word told me to stop following him.  He left me on this street, wanting me to find my own answers. I watched him disappear as he breached the hill on Hildreth Street. I had learned about his death in her obituary that I read 2 months ago.  He was also gone.  But all I wanted to do was talk to her one last time.

I turned around and headed straight for her house.  Her house was the nicest on the street, neat and white with a sprawling emerald lawn.  I slowly walked past Moran’s house, then the Markie’s house.  The next one was hers.   I so wanted it to be like when we were kids and would hang out together.  I didn’t want it to be weird that I was there in the middle of the night.  I made my way up the short dark driveway to the white kitchen door.  When I knocked, I wanted her to answer.  Instead, her mother opened the door like she was expecting me, dressed for Sunday afternoon tea.

In the corner of the room, stood Beth eating an apple.  “Beth,” I screamed.  We both started laughing for no reason.  “I loved you Beth,” I told her.  She just smiled.  I asked her what happened, but she didn’t answer me.  Memories flooded into my mind, like the time I got high at her house and was comatose on her couch.  Or the time we spent the day at her pool talking about boys all day.   Or the time we put shaving cream all over our basketball coach’s car.  Or the time I brought her home after a night of drinking and put her into bed with a glass of orange juice.  My judgement wasn’t always too good.

But, there was a whole lifetime I missed out on with her.  I wish I could have turned back time and had a hint of her adult life.   I wasn’t around when she got married or had kids.  I didn’t know what she did for a living, or any of the heartbreak she went through.  The obituary filled in some blanks, but it was just words.    Words that I should have lived along with her.  Held her hand during her illness or made her a casserole when she returned home.  Somehow, make up for all the years we lost touch.

When I woke up, all I could see in my mind was Beth laughing.  Her impish eyes sparkled with delight.  I loved her laugh.  I rolled over to see my husband sleeping soundly.   Taking a deep breath, I felt like I had some kind of pseudo-closure to my feelings of great loss.  The dream allowed me to see her and talk to her, to say goodbye; to apologize.   She was so incredibly important to me as I grew up.   I will always be thankful for her love and friendship.  It helped me become the person I am today.  I guess, maybe dreams can reunite us and bring us to a place of peace.  I feel like she will always be with me now.  I hope she forgives me for being absent from her all too short, beautiful life.

Life Topics

An Unlikely Friendship

 

I could not stomach it any longer.  This marriage was making me physically and emotionally sick.  I never knew what I was up against from day to day.  Between the acrid verbal abuse, “why would you wear makeup, you’re so ugly anyway” and finally the threat of physical abuse there was no way to continue.  My life was a roller coaster controlled by his moods and behaviors. No one really knew what I was going through.  Although, I am pretty sure the kids knew.  They always know.  It was like I had a secret to tell, I wanted to blurt it out, but I didn’t have the guts to let on how miserable I was.  Deep down I wanted it to appear like we had a happy marriage, just pretend it was OK; until I couldn’t.  The last straw came when he called me a cunt in front of my children.  Through shock, disbelief, embarrassment, and rage, I balled up my right hand, reached back and swung.  I hit him square in the jaw and his 6’ 4” frame dropped to the floor.  I’m not proud of losing control but I was battered and defeated.  I then told the kids to get their jackets on, and “we are out of here.”  So, we left at night during a February snowstorm and never looked back.  It was the best decision of my life.

I eventually got on my feet after staying with my parents for 6 months.  They were incredibly supportive.  The divorce was a nightmare, of course, but not as bad as the marriage.  Slowly I gained mental strength and self-esteem.  He had me turned so inside out that it was hard for me to make simple decisions at first, and have the necessary confidence I needed to fully heal.  Thankfully that all changed. I took small yet bold steps to regain my life and get to a place of total independence.  I was no longer that woman who put up with his twisted views or gross negativity.  No one would ever step on me again.  No one.

As miracles would have it, he eventually remarried a few years later.  I wondered what kind of woman would fall for him.  And then I remembered how he could transform into a charming predator at will.  I naïvely and regrettably fell for that.  Maybe she was lured in unknowingly, or maybe she was as unbalanced as he was.  Either way, I was determined not to like her, and I didn’t.  Afterall, any friend of his was an enemy of mine. You are judged by the company you keep they say.  However, my life was in an upturn as I had met and fallen in love with my life partner.  The only thing I worried about was the time and influence she would have on my son.  Her character was a mystery to me, and I had deep concerns.

Eventually they had a child of their own, a baby girl.  I had to pretend that I cared about my son having a new sister so he would feel content and at ease.  He already had to put up with his father’s erratic behavior when he picked him up on weekends, shouting nonsense at me for no reason.  I didn’t want to add to my son’s stress by saying anything negative about his new sister, nor did I want to.  It turned out that he really liked his stepmother, without elaborating on it.  I think he didn’t want me to feel bad.  He also loved having a sister, he was no longer the baby in the family.  I had very little contact with the new wife, except for a few emotionally charged phone conversations.  She accused me of being “selfish” when discussing child support.  This woman was crazy.

Not surprisingly their marriage dissolved a few years later.  I wasn’t broken up about it.  Nobody could live with him.  Only now, not only a family was split up, but my son would also lose a sister that he loved.  Life continued with weekend visits from his father.  I didn’t give his situation a second thought, as it was none of my business.  However, I received a phone call a few years after the split up that changed my life.

My son’s estranged stepmother called me one winter day and asked if she could drop her daughter off to spend time with my son.  It was Thanksgiving.   At first, I was taken aback.  Afterall, here was this “crazy” woman asking me to entertain her daughter.  She was not family. What was I supposed to do?  I eventually agreed and talked to my partner.  He said, “why don’t you ask her to come along and join us too.  It’s such a long drive, why doesn’t she just stay.”  That was out of the question in my mind.  Why would I do that!  But the more I thought about it, I decided that it would be OK.  I would only have to put up with her for an afternoon if it made my son happy.  Not only did it make my son happy, but it was such a simple, yet brave, act of kindness on her part that I could not help but silently admire.  She decided to stay.

We eventually started seeing each other with and without the kids.  At first, I would tell my friends that I was hanging out with my Ex’s second ex-wife.  Then as time went on, I did not need to describe our situation.  There was no need.  We were becoming good friends on our own.  Her stories were my stories. Her life was my life.  We are kindred souls who have the same war stories, the same dreams and desires.  It was not all about the marriages.  Sure, we kibitzed about being married to him for a while, but then it turned into more; much much more.  If she never met my Ex then we would have never met.  And, thanks to her, our children will have a loving and solid relationship, growing up and growing old together.

I count her as one of my dearest friends.  We know what each other has been through and keenly understand it.  It’s mostly unspoken today.  Besides being a loving, patient, wonderful friend, she is my son’s mother as well.  Not a stepmother, a true and dedicated mother.  If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know if the kids would be in each other’s lives today.  If it wasn’t for her, I would have missed out on a “once in a lifetime” friendship.  I love her and will have her for the rest of my life, until death do us part.

 

Life Topics

The Wedding

I stood in the back of the church, tucked behind the side of the windows that look out to the pews.  The flower girls and maids of honor had stepped forward and paced their steps down the aisle to the music.  Looking over to my sons standing near the door, I just stared at them.  I was scared.  They urged me with a head nod to move forward, it was time.  I took a deep breath and slowly moved forward, meeting them at the end of the aisle.  Taking each of their arms, I felt a little reluctant and a bit shaky.  All eyes were on me.  My music was starting.  This was a pivotal moment.  I had waited a long time to get married.

As we slowly moved toward the altar, I felt my life passing in front of my eyes.  I could hardly make out my friends and family in the pews.  My mind was momentarily elsewhere and everywhere, there was no fear, just great anticipation.  I searched for my beloved at the front of the church and focused on his loving face.  He’s always been my rock.  His tear-filled eyes exuded love and urged me forward to be with my best friend, to pledge our love.  Forever.

He took my hand and led me to my ceremonial place, next to him, in front of God.  We were actually doing this.  I had planned and imagined this day for months, but never could know how this moment would feel.  It was magical.  Surreal.  He was smiling and stepped toward me to take my hand.  As I stepped onto the altar, he whispered that I looked beautiful.  I felt beautiful.

We followed the pastor in action and in word, as we did every Sunday.  Except now we were more keenly engaged and committed to the word of God, to this holy sacrament.   As devout Catholics, our marriage depended on it.  We were now the center of attention.  I looked at the stained glass and the altar like I had never seen it before.  I tried to concentrate on the sermon, but tears of joy ran down my face.   I wanted to reach out and kiss him.  Have him hold me for the rest of his life.  As the priest talked, I prayed for strength and devotion, everything my new husband deserved in a partner.

We gave traditional vows, exchanged rings, and made sacred promises.  Promises I shall never ever break.  My tears of joy had been wiped away and I was now captivated in the moment.   Placing the ring on his finger, I made my vows loud and clear for all to hear – in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  He looked deep into my eyes as I pushed the ring onto his finger, wrapping me in a warm blanket of love and hope.  I was pledging my body and soul as I have never done before.

Our marriage will be long and happy.  We have made and kept all our promises, making each other happy for the last twenty-six years.  We may be “newlyweds” however, we have been on a journey together for a long time, growing in love and spirituality.  Our ceremony was an important milestone that we will always cherish.  Bringing our loved ones together to share this commitment was precious and heartfelt.  It is only with the support of the church, friends, and family that this marriage will continue to be a success.  Our hearts are full, our love is strong, and our faith is unbreakable.

Cheers!

Life Topics

I Do

I believe that I’ve found my prince charming.  I kissed a lot of frogs to get here.  I’m now with someone I never thought would happen to me.  We are in sync as we step through the challenges of our life together.  No, we would not have ever been pegged as compatible.  Not by a long shot.  We are absolute complete opposites.  In fact, I’m sure some people put money on us not making it.  Yet here we are on the threshold of our wedding, committing ourselves to forever.

In one week, we will be saying “I do” in the eyes of God.  But it goes beyond the religious sense of commitment, as we’ve experienced over the last 26 years.  In reality, it’s more likely I will think “I do respect you but you’re wrong”, “I do love you, but I don’t like you right now”, “I do want to be your partner, but you’re pissing me off.” Our life will be full of “I dos” for a number of reasons.  Real life reasons that sustain us beyond the alter.  I do, and I am who I am, and he is who he is.  And I like him.  Let’s start there.

Laughter has always been a major part of our relationship.  We can make each other laugh in the face of despair or awkwardness.  The foundation of our relationship is the respect we have for each other.  Love comes 3rd or 4th on the list of ingredients to a good relationship, in my humble opinion.  Avoiding drama and keeping it real has been our strength for many years.  We talk openly and honestly no matter what and try to meet up in a place of contentment if possible.  If not, animosities dissipate to the graveyard of of “let’s agree to not agree.”  Laughter usually ensues which can take your breath away, as you realize how trivial the arguments can be.  Remember what’s important.

Beyond the dress and the pomp and circumstance there will be good times and bad, and I’m ready for that.  After all this time together, we know what we’re getting into and welcome it.  It’s not like most newly wedded couples who start their life together, we’ve had a life together.  We’re just starting a new chapter.  We’ve already done the courtship, the “getting to know you”, the comfortable stage.  Our friendship is timeless.  We are just two people who find comfort and strength in each other.  As you say in Jr. High School, “I don’t like him, I LIKE LIKE him.”  I like him so much I think I’ll marry him!

 

Life Topics

Mom

It was the first visit without Dad.  They always came in a pair except now she’s “flying solo”.  I wonder if she can navigate without him.  Entering the room, she says a quick hello and rushes to the bathroom.  It was a long, snowy, lonely drive from the Cape for an 85-year-old.  As she left the room, I turned to Jamie frowning and told him I miss my Dad, with only my eyes.  He understood and nodded his head.  Dad has been gone for three months and now it was time to learn who this woman was to me.  Who we all were without Dad.

We were excited to have Mom visit but didn’t know what it would look like.  Dad would always make a joke or comment to take her out of her own head.  She could be bossy, nosy, critical and opinionated, not to mention stubborn.  Mom could also be very loving in a restrictive, lukewarm, guarded way as only an Irish Mother can pull off.  If I poured a glass of wine before 5pm on a Saturday, Mom would either make a slanted comment or give me the “hairy eyeball.”  He, on the other hand, would enthusiastically ask me if the wine was good inquiring like a Sommelier at a fine restaurant.  Dad accepted who I am with all my flaws.  I guess you could say that Dad was a buffer between me and my mother.  He always had my back.

We passed the time watching TV, shopping and eating.  She helped me with wedding plans and we attended Mass on Saturday (before I had my wine).  She only criticized me a few times.  Overall, we had a good time.  I’m starting to get to know that strong, willful person who raised me.  I never really took the time to get to know her before.  The way I see it, I have a choice.  I can reacquaint myself with Mom and get to a new level or continue to grieve a loss without looking forward.  We have a brand-new opportunity to reach out and define ourselves; become reborn in the shadow of death.  Even though she can irritate me, I do recognize that who she is makes her whole and beautiful.  If it wasn’t for her showing me strength and resilience, I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

I have to accept that the missing puzzle piece is gone forever.  The circle has been broken and has left a wide gap.  Is it up to Mom to fill the void?  No, she has her own place.  I was afraid that I wouldn’t know who she would be as a single person.  Now I’m realizing that she’s always been her own person.    I can see that navigating her way through life alone is not a problem for her.  She misses Dad but his absence is part of life, our life.  We didn’t talk about my father much during the visit, but he was there in our hearts and in the music of the wind chimes outside.

I love you Mom.

Life Topics

Yesterday Today and Tomorrow

She was very knowledgeable about her business.  Holding the ring, she pointed out the uniqueness of the setting as she rotated it in her fingers.  The stones were exquisite as their brilliance would light up with each motion.  “Can you see how the diamonds are held in this circular setting?” she said.  It was a gold band with three diamonds in a row.  I knew nothing about settings, but she assured me it was both fashionable and stable.  I really liked the ring but did not love the ring.  She continued by saying, “the diamonds are E H quality”, or some such letters that was supposed to impress.  It was lost on me.  He stood next to me leaning over the case, focused on the ring and listening intently.  It was going to be a major purchase if we decided to go with it.

He asked me to wait outside while he had a private conversation with the shopkeeper.  I quietly turned to him and said, “I need to talk to you.”  He insisted I wait outside. I repeated myself again, hoping to curtail their conversation.  I could see he was set to negotiate.  I didn’t want him to work to get the price down on something I wasn’t really sure about.  However, I went outside as he asked and waited until he emerged from the store.  He told me he had talked her down by several hundred dollars.

“Hey, I wanted to let you know that I don’t love the ring” I said.  He was a little bit surprised, as we walked down the street.  I said, “Maybe we can go to Boston to look for the right thing.”  He agreed, although a bit disappointed. Turning toward the beach we walked onto the soft sand and stared out at the harbor in silence.  The beautiful summer day reflected the sun off the water as the boats bobbed on their moorings.  His plan was to propose and present me with a ring that night.  It was our weekend away to celebrate 25 years together and to start a new chapter in our life.

The town had been all but shut down that day while they worked on the repairs.  A sewer breakage had caused all food establishments to close, and half the town was left without plumbing.  We decided to go anyway and try to enjoy ourselves.  The quaint hotel we stayed at had flushing toilets and was in the center of town near beaches and shops. Port-o-Potties lined the main street, and a scattering of people walked around.  Our evening plans were ruined as our favorite restaurant, The Mews, was closed.  That was the memorable location he planned to make it official.

As we walked back toward the main drag, I saw another Jewelry shop.  I said, “Let’s go in here and take a look.”
I had every intention of just looking.  The owner of the shop was animated and friendly.  He didn’t have the smug air of the last shop owner.  We began leaning over the cases to look at his diamond rings.  There were several off the list right away.  He held up “our most popular” rings looking for my interest.  Nah, no interest.  I did find one that was way beyond our means.  I kept going back to it, but eventually snapped out of it.  We were not looking to spend a ton of cash.

My eyes were a bit off focus because my false eyelashes were starting to flap off my eyelid.  I must have looked crazy.  Every so often I’d put my finger on the lashes to secure them on the dry glue without success.   My soon to be fiancé was staring intently at all the sparkly choices, pointing out possibilities.  And then, there it was.  A 3-diamond band that was sweet and simple.  It resembled the ring we saw at the other shop, but was in white gold, which made it pop.  The owner told us that the 3 diamonds represented, “yesterday, today and tomorrow.”  That resonated with us since we have been together for so long.

My boyfriend asked the owner if we could take a walk and talk about it.  “Of course!” he said.  So, we left the store and stood off to the side of the front window.  With tears coming down his face, he quickly said, “I know we’re doing this backwards, we’re about to buy a ring, and I haven’t officially asked you to marry me.  Will you marry me?”  I took his face into my hands, looked directly in his eyes, and slowly said “Yes. Yes, I will marry you” as my tears (and eyelashes) blurred my eyes.  We tightly embraced and started kissing in the middle of a busy sidewalk like we were the only ones in the world.

 

Life Topics

Dipstitch Podcast

Hello Dilettante Life followers, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything.  Time to get back in the saddle soon.  I miss my blog.

However, the reason I’ve been absent for so long is I have found a new passion I wanted to tell you about…

I have a new podcast!  It’s called Dipstitch,  a 15-30 minute episode of “sisterly conversation” brought to you each week.  What is sisterly conversation?  Well, my sister Susan and I talk about food, family, faith, dogs, knitting, jobs, holidays, parenthood and EVERYTHING in between.  I know you might be thinking, “this is a chic podcast” but it’s not. Most topics are very relatable and entertaining.  We have some laughs along the way and even have a guest every so often to join in the fun.

Won’t you have a listen?  Our audience is fantastic and makes the podcast worthwhile.  But, we’re looking to grow our fan base by inviting you to listen.  Dipstitch is available on a number of podcast platforms, but the easiest one to use is podchaser.com.

To become a loyal listener, go to podchaser.com and in the search box type Dipstitch.  Our podcast page will come up and have a green “Follow Podcast” button on the right side of the screen.  Click on it, and you’ll get an email when a new episode is uploaded.  It’s that simple.  And, if you scroll down, you’ll see Recent Episodes with a link next to it, to “View All”.   One stop shopping.

Thank you so much for being a loyal follower of Dilettante Life.  I hope you will enjoy Dipstitch as much, and become a follower there as well.

Warm Regards,

Jo