Life’s Reflection
As I reflect back on my life 10 years ago and compare it to
my life today…I have to wonder what else does God have in stored for me. How many more horrific events will I be
forced to live through…and how will I fare after? Who would have known that happy,
self-employed, self-assured, well-balanced woman of 10 years ago, would one day
feel completely alone, completely beaten.
Life is as it is perceived by each individual. It is different for each one of us, depending
on our own perception of life. So this
life I now live…to me…feels quite lonely.
Yes there are bits and pieces of this new life I live where there is
some joy, some happiness…but quite honestly…I mostly feel alone.
Just this week, my therapist suggested, “Life is what you
make of it. This is a true statement,
and one that I have at times said to friends and/or family. But in my current state of mind…for me, I
feel this life of mine is different from that of people who have not walked in
my shoes. I feel everyone has a
threshold for how much heartache/pain they are capable of digesting. I believe I have reached that point where ‘my
cup has run over the edges.’ I just
cannot endure any more…therefore the state of emotions I now live, on each
given day vary from fairly good to very bad.
My therapist made a suggestion it may be of my own making. Perhaps she is correct…perhaps I am not allowing
myself to be happy. Should a person actually
have to force themselves to have a good day?
Should having a good time come naturally without consciously having to
make yourself be happy, or should each of us that grieve force ourselves to
have a good time? She has not walked in
my shoes…I wonder if she would feel differently if she took a walk in my
shoes. If she walked in my shoes for
only an hour she would be able to understand how many memories of my son pop
into my mind within that one hour. She
would most likely not have the same advice for her patients at hours’ end.
So yes, I do have moments of happiness in my life…and quite
frankly…I do not have to force myself to enjoy these moments. But none of us can control the moment by
moment memories that pop into our heads.
My guess is the outcome of my day, the outcome of any given hour,
depends on the memories I am reflecting on.
If the memories I am thinking about make me sad than my day/hour is not
good…if my memories make me smile than that day/hour is not so bad. Which is why I have moments of joy…but this
is also why I have periods of my life that are excruciating. The one thing I know is even though I am the
one who consciously reflects on my past…there are still unexpected memories
that are conjured up at any given moment by sights, smells, voices, or memories
of others. These are the memories which
take me (as well as other bereaved) over, and not always in a positive
way. It is this reason I say I have good
moments and some moments which are not very positive.
There are so many things I have been thinking about since
Jeff’s passing, life itself for one, and what would happen if I were to die. I wonder if every one has these thoughts. What if I were to die? Do I have everything in place in the event I
should perish? I had things in place before Jeff died…but now that he is gone
what happens? It is discerning that one
should even have to think about these things, but we do…and I truly believe we
should all have things in place prior to our demise. I recently made changes to my life insurance,
and have taken some other steps to plan ahead, ‘so to speak.’
During this recent holiday season, I have gone through every
nook and cranny in my house. I was bound
and determined to get rid of everything and anything which I have not used for
a while, did not need, or for whatever reason just no longer liked. I came across many household goods, many knick-knacks,
and I came across many pictures of people, family/friends which haven’t been in
my life for years. Some of the people in
the photos disappeared due to a move to a different state, while family members
in phots just plain chose to alienate themselves from my life, from Tina’s life. While every item and photo I came across of
friends conjured up memories of birthdays, holidays, bar-b-ques, or just
memories of good times. It was the
photos of family that conjured up the majority of negative memories. I have removed all of the negativity from my
home and from my life…I decided these people would never again hurt me…they
will never again be in my life. It was
Tina that showed me how truly negative these people were for me, especially in
my current emotional state. Tina also is
making a conscious choice to delete these same people from her life as
well. I believe it is not only a good
choice…but for our own sanity…it was the only choice we both had.
Now that the holidays are gone I have nothing but time on my
hands, and as I sit and reflect on all the things I came across they each bring
back many memories…memories of a different life…memories of a different
Olgie. Who was I back then? Was I happy?
I often wonder about that…was I happy?
Was I as happy as I could be? Was
the life I was living a happy life? Was
that my ‘happily ever after?’ That life
I lived with Steve, with all our friends, with all his children…was that my
‘happily ever after?’ Is that really all
life had in stored for me? Was that life
written in the stars for me, from the time I was born…was it? Was it written in the stars I would have a
family…I would be happy…only to lose it all?
Before this past holiday I had not been able to go through
pictures of years past. This Christmas I
was finally able to look through some pictures, many of Jeff’s pictures. I tried not to think about the goings on in
the pictures…but the memories were there.
I clearly remembered every moment that surrounded the pictures. I could taste the cakes in some of the
pictures, could smell the aroma of the kitchen, and I could hear the laughter
of the people in the pictures…especially Jeff’s laughter. He was such a happy little boy. He had the best laugh, and the most beautiful
smile. Even as an adult this did not
change. His smile lighted up his entire
face. And his laughter was so
reminiscent of the day of his youth…those pain free days of his youth. These moments should make me happy…but mostly
they don’t, all they do is conjure up happier times…happier memories of this
damn life of mine. So if my therapist is
suggesting I am making myself unhappy…if she is suggesting I am lonely because
I want to be lonely…if she is suggesting I am alone because I am making myself
be alone…she is wrong. I am alone
because my phone does not ring. I am
alone because every time I lost a loved one, I also lost people in my life for
no other reason than because they did not know what to say to me. So rather than sit and talk about the weather…they
have chosen to stay away…leaving me alone.
I am alone because I grieve the people I loved. I am here and they are
together…together in a spiritual plane…together in the here-after.
What happened? Why is
it that some people die much sooner in life than others? Is our fate written in the stars when we are
born? Is it God who chooses who lives
and who dies? It is God who makes this
decision? I have spent a good deal of
time reflecting on good times and on bad times in my life. I’ve been trying to rationalize this life of
mine…this road I am on. I am presently
getting myself prepared for my own demise.
Perhaps that is why I have sorted through my entire house, getting rid
of everything I no longer need. Perhaps
that is why I have made sure I have a plan ready in the event I perish. So that no one will have to worry about
finances, or a video, or anything else. Maybe
I have been taught through these experiences that life itself is nothing more
than a roll of a dice. Perhaps upon our
birth, each of our lives has an expiration date and time known only to the
great divine. I don’t have an answer to
any of this. All I know for sure is I do
not want those that are left behind to have to worry about my funeral plans or
anything else. Steve had the right idea,
he planned his own funeral. He even
talked to the people he wanted to represent him at his services. He tried to make things easier for me, and
for his kids.
I recently came back from visiting my mother in California. I was there for her 87th
birthday. Although it was nice being
home, it was also like a ‘Come to Jesus’ meeting. I was sitting in my mother’s front room with
her when she turned to me and asked, “Tell me again who your mother is, I
forgot her name.” I looked at my mother
thinking she was joking.
“I am an orphan,” was my smart aleck reply.
“Oh, I am so sorry…but you have sisters, right? Who are your sisters?” My mother asked sincerely.
Knowing I came from a family of nine children, seven boys
and two girls (including myself) I replied again in a joking manner, “I have no sisters.”
Again my mother shared her sympathy.
I sat there and watched her carefully…knowing full well that
this woman of 87 years would be leaving us sooner than later. And I also came to the realization she would
most likely leave us mentally far sooner than her physical body would give
out. It was an eerie feeling being home
with my mother, and every now and again, having it come to light that my own
mother did not know who I was, and each time moments would pass before she was herself
again. It was a ‘Come to Jesus’ moment
for me to distinguish the lucidity that surrounded her from those few moments
of ‘not realizing’ she was lost. I tried
to look deeply into her eyes to see whether or not she knew she was lost…I couldn’t
tell. She did not look afraid. In her coherent state she was just happy to
have me home.
Every now and again my mother would tell me how very much
she missed her children. Over the years
my mother lost three sons, one to suicide, one to complications of asthma, and
one to cancer. I kept quiet and sat
teary eyed, listening to her expressed feelings of missing her children…thinking
about Jeff the whole while she talked. Nothing
was said about Jeff’s passing, so I could only assume she had no recollection
of it. I sat and I listened to her
pain…echoing her pain as she spoke.
“Why did they have to die?”
She would ask in a beaten down manner.
She then went on to say, “Nobody cares that they died. I don’t think anyone cares they are gone.”
 |
| Christmas 2015 |
How does any mother endure the loss of
a child? How did this little woman endure the pain? Throughout time people have endured this
horrific pain, mothers have suffered this pain and somehow managed to survive...why
then is it so difficult for me to let go?
They have survived...but my guess is, they like me, have come out of the
pain as a different person. They like me,
and like my mother, still grieve their loss regardless however long their children
have been gone.
I have to wonder…who will be there for me when I am her
age? Who will worry about me? With Jeff gone…who will care? Who will sit and listen to me as an old
woman, while I talk about my son, while I express my feelings of his absence? Is my future already written in the stars? Will I die alone? What else is out there for me to endure?
