Sunday, November 28, 2010

changing traditions .. sort of

One of my favorite traditions during the holiday season is choosing a set of five (three kids + two parents) ornaments to add to the tree.  And we do this on Thanksgiving weekend when we are out and about shopping.  I look and look and look, sometimes for days, until something pops out and I get a feeling that this is the ornament for the year. Little tiny mugs with our names on them, red crystals, birth stone colored bobbles, crystal snowflakes, glass icecicles, paper mache stars.  There is no preconceived notion.  They just appear. 

This year was especially difficult as it is the first holiday season with just the kids and me in the home. Yesterday we took a day trip to a beautiful little tourist village about 90 minutes from our house. The sights and lights, sounds and smells, and holiday decor was just breathtaking. We had a really fun time walking the streets and going from store to store. I reminded the kids that I was looking for the annual set of Christmas tree ornaments, and was pretty disappointed when we were heading back to the car several hours later having found nothing. I felt a lump form in my throat and fought back the tears of grief. Then I saw a little outdoor stand that we had missed and decided to just take a peak. Nothing. As I started to walk away, my eyes glanced toward a little hidden partition next to the door with some small handmade ornaments. There they were. This year's ornaments. The tears came. And so did a smile. Peace signs. Exactly 4 of them. 

As I read about the artist and his crafts that I held in my hand, I could feel myself taking one more liberating step toward healing. Small metal sculptures made from copper and brass with a bright finish and sealed with a varnish to prevent tarnishing. Treated with a solution that is enhanced with exposure to weather, rain and sun. Each unique.








Saturday, November 27, 2010

we made it

This is where we have always spent Thanksgiving weekend.  Not this year.  Finances wouldn't allow.

The best thing I did prior to the holiday season was to sit down with the kids and talk about the differences and similarities they would see this holiday season with just them and me in the house. No annual trip to the coast.  Gifts from mom might not be as extravagant as in the past. All of the family traditions will be alive and well such as the food, the decorations, the spiritual rituals, the baking. Love and friendship will be abundant. Emotions might get the best of us. And I asked them to tell me all of their thoughts and wishes. They astounded me with their resiliency, wisdom, and understanding.

I've been honest with them this past year about the effects of grief and loss we all will experience .. and now during the holidays .. the loss of family as they've always known, the loss of innocence and having to face that life will never be the same as it was, yet that it's up to us to make our new life work for us so that we are happy, more peaceful, and optimistic about our futures. The journey takes time, and we will be in a better place eventually.

Oftentimes the effects of grief and loss just sneak up and blind side you. Like when I was doing the annual Thanksgiving Day shopping this week. When they saw my red and blotchy face from crying all the way through the stores while shopping, I said, "Lots of memories came flooding into my mind when I was shopping and I just miss how it used to be. I'm going to allow the sadness to pass as I put away the groceries, and then I'd like to watch a funny TV show with you." I've made a conscience decision to tell my kids what exactly I'm going through at the moment and how I plan on dealing with it. I'm hopeful that if I model, they will follow.

Surprisingly, Thanksgiving went well.  We spent it with another independent mom with teenagers, had the usually slew of friends coming and going, and ventured out on Black Friday.  We made it.  

Friday, November 26, 2010

Indie Mom

In order of importance: I am a survivor on a never ending journey toward recovery and healing. I am a beautiful woman inside and out. I am an independent mother. I am a sister. I am an aunt and a cousin. I am a friend and a colleague. I am a wife separated from my husband of 25 years pending divorce.  In each of these roles I have a fierce desire to do the right thing. My problem is I don't always know what the right thing is or if the right thing even exists. This is because I have wrestled with the traditionally defined roles of who I am for most of my life. During the wrestling I've tried to play the game by the 'rules', and I've bucked the system, too. I've proven myself right and wrong. And I'm nowhere near feeling like I have a handle on anything. And rightly so. Because what I've come to understand, most especially as an independent mother, is that I have been afraid of my own light. My own adequacies. Nelson Mandela says it much better:
"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you. You were born to manifest the glory of God that is within us. It isn't just some of us, it is everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."