Poem to a Former Friend

Months ago, I lost a friendship - or what I had thought was a friendship. Today, in an effort at closure, I thought I would write an angry letter.  After all, how could someone be friendly and then shut me out of her life?  Maybe if I could write an angry letter - not to send to her, you understand, but only to shred - maybe it would help me. 

But alas, my plan for an angry letter was an epic fail. Instead, I sat down and wrote a free verse poem. The words just flowed onto the screen, all the way to the end; but they were not what I had in mind when I sat down.  I don't feel I should send it to her, because it might appear, yet again, that I was trying to get the friendship back. So I will share it with you.

LOOK

Look up. God will help you every step of the way.

Look up. The stars are shining on you with God’s love.

Look up. The blue sky shows God’s love for you.

Look up. One day you will be with Him, wrapped in His gentle embrace.

Look up. One day you will be with your loved ones who have gone before.

Look up. They are smiling radiantly down at you. 

Look out across the horizon and see that God sees the rest of your life.

Look out across the fields or skyscrapers and know that, with Him, all will be well.

Look across at your family and know that God loves them even more than you do.

Look at me and know that I love you in God’s love, not just selfishly because I liked you.

Look at me and know that I love you in God’s love, not just gratefully because you were there for me.

Look at me and know that I love you forever, like a sister, however distant we may be,

And I will love you in heaven, in His love, for all eternity.    

A Life Lesson I Learned from Homeschoolers

I homeschooled my six children from kindergarten through 12th grade.  In the beginning, we were very structured.  I enrolled my children with a homeschool program that had once been a school. I spent my life monitoring them doing their "schoolwork".  Watching them produce this much schoolwork ( some of it 'busy work') every quarter, every week, indeed, every day.  If we skipped a day, we would get behind.

Keeping up the house. Cooking.  Taking care of babies and toddlers.  And grading, grading, grading.  After we had moved from one state to another, we once went back "home" for a visit, and another homeschooling mom asked me how ours was going.  I said I was behind on the grading, and she said with a laugh, "Margaret Mary, you are always behind on the grading!"  That was the reputation I had left behind.

On weekends, my husband would want me to do things with the family - and all I wanted was to go off by myself.  But I would go...or do...with the family.  I think sometimes I did go off by myself, without ever leaving the house or the room, whether it was by reading or writing, planning the weeks' meals, or just thinking or spacing out.  Sometimes I was present physically, while I wasn't really present in the moment.  I look back on those days and I wonder what it would have been like if I had had the internet then, as we do now.  Would I have ever been truly present...or did I spend just as much time "away", anyway?  

As time went on, I lightened up a bit.  While I continued to get materials from the same school, I stopped having my younger kids enrolled.  Then more time passed and I began planning my own curriculum. I learned about literature-based learning and that resonated with me.  Whenever I had felt the need to do something with the kids and didn't feel I could spend much money to do it, I would take them to the park or the library.  And sometimes we would talk about their books.  Now I was meeting women online who not only talked about their kids' books with them, but actually read them to them.  Even though the children could read!  Wonder of wonders.  How do you do that?  When I learned about that, my kids were older, but I was so impressed.  Family reading time.  Wow.  Although I didn't do that, these same women also talked about talking with their kids...that it was okay for their kids to question things.  That it is through questioning that we can address things, and grow, and grow together. That wasn't the era I was brought up in.  It wasn't the air my older children had been brought up in.  And I learned to discuss things with them, more openly.

Because my husband insisted on family trips; because I had my children cook with me; because I discussed my kids' books with them; because I lightened up over the years; and then finally, because I learned to listen to my kids even when I disagreed with them...I believe that, enough of the time (whatever "enough" is), I was "there for them" or "there with them".  The homeschooling helped...but it wasn't just that I homeschooled them.  It was because I learned to set aside the slavery to a pre-planned curriculum and accountability, as well as my slavery to my family.  I could work hard for my family but I eventually had to learn to put them ahead of all the tasks that I did for them. I also learned to deal with my own issues, instead of sweeping them under the rug, so that I could better help them deal with theirs (okay, maybe that wasn't the reason I dealt with mine, but being better able to help them was part of the result). And I learned to have some time to myself, so that when I have time with them, I can be there for them and with them.

Whether you homeschool, or you run a chauffering service to school and soccer and dance, whether you're a parent or a spouse, or a single person, I would like to invite you to learn a lesson that I learned, a lesson that I am still working on learning, every single day.  Be present in the moment. By that, I don't mean you should never deal with past issues; dealing with them may help you to live in the present.  I don't mean you shouldn't have dreams and goals for the future.  That may help you to be happier, as well as to have more "moments" in the future.

But, let's keep on trying to be present to those we love.  If you have children, I would encourage you to read to them. Listen to them read to you.  If they know how to read and you are not comfortable with introducing reading aloud together at this point, then read some of what they read, too, and discuss it together, in a friendly way.  Sit side by side if you read together, or while you help them with homework.  Sit side by side on the sofa and look through photo albums (Am I dating myself? Okay, look at pictures on the laptop?).  When your teens say things that you find outrageous, you may want to ask them to talk about those things out of earshot of the 'littles', but find a time and place that they can discuss them - and be willing to hear them out.  Give your own views gently, not as though it's as simple as them being wrong and you being right because you are the parent, but truly listening, and then give them valid reasons for your position...or do research together on the topic.

After all my years of parenting, I would never presume to tell anyone how they should school their children (away, at home, or how), but if there is one thing I have learned to be aware of - one thing I should probably work on, all my life - it is the need to be present to those we love, not every minute, not without our own hobbies, our own friends, our own life but, at least some of the time, to take the time and energy to just "be there"...truly and openly "there". 

God bless you. 

 

How We Can Help Those Who Grieve

Last night I stumbled upon a blog post at National Catholic Register entitled Grief is Messy, where Jennifer Fulwiler talked about having recently been the first one to a motorcycle accident in her neighborhood, and what she learned about helping people with grief.

I agreed with the things she said: You want to suggest: In grief, do this to be supportive.  But then again, maybe it would be better to do that.  It's hard to know.  I would say that it does depend very much on the individuality of the person who is grieving, and what is most helpful may also depend on their mood (if you will) of the day, or of the hour, or of the moment.  So, yes, it's difficult to know.

As some of you know, I had two back-to-back losses: My sister, my only natural sibling, died suddenly, this past December 8th of a brain aneurysm.  And then, six weeks later, my 26 year old son died unexpectedly in his sleep, on January 19th. Just stating that - stating it for those who may read this who didn't know - is a brain stopper and makes it hard for me to go on writing. I get up and put in another piece of toast and water the plant before I can write some more.

Both my mother and my mother-in-law died years ago, so we cannot turn to them for support. And I feel like I should "be there", more than I have been, for my brother-in-law and my nieces, but it's still hard to find the emotional energy to reach out to others, especially those who have suffered some of the very same losses I have and yet live geographically distant.

Here are some do's from my own experience:
1) Do show up if you can: at the visitation with a hug, at the funeral with your presence, at the door with food, in the mail with a check, at Facebook or email with kind words (no one person need do all those things; do what you personally feel inspired to do). We are so very grateful!
2) Do offer your prayers.  Again, we are very grateful for them!
3) Do be willing to just listen if the grieving person is willing to talk. Nod, encourage, show you are listening - if it's on the phone you can say a few words of affirmation that you are there - but don't worry if you can't think of anything to say.  It's okay to just listen.
4) Do respect that everyone will grieve in their own ways, at their own times. Sometimes we may be laughing as though nothing happened, because we are resilient beings & because we should not put away all thoughts of joy in the midst of sorrow. Other times we may be crying when you might have thought we would be "back to normal" by now.  (I smile a lot, but on Mother's Day - four months after my son's death - I cried through the entire Mass.)

Here are some don't's from my own experience:
1)  Don't ask for money. If the deceased owed you money, could you - would you - just suck it up and write it off?  If there is any money in the deceased's estate, it might take "forever" for even the family to have access to it...and for bills to come out of it.  And if you don't have an agreement with the deceased person in writing that it was a loan not a gift, then it's not recognized in probate, anyway.  Don't add to our worries, and don't add to our pain or make us add to yours when we get defensive or angry.
2)  Don't try to push religion on me right now.  It comes across that I'm not religious enough for you, not quite good enough. The family is religious enough to choose the Gospel to use at the funeral (we were at a church where the family chooses the readings).  Don't tell me why God "took" my son. We will have to figure out the "why" of the death for ourselves...or not figure it out.  One of the best bits of advise I have been given was to not try to figure out the "why".
3)  Don't try to "one-up" me and my family, or to one-up the deaths of my sister and my son.  In the beginning, in my world it was pretty much all about me and my family.  Actually, I still felt very compassionate about your sorrows and challenges, but I wasn't really interested in the details of your brother who died twenty years ago of an aneurysm - and he was only eight years old. You can tell me your brother died of an aneurysm.  Just don't tell me the details quite yet or say "he was so young!" (was my 63 year old sister "old"?).
4)  Don't expect me to return to normal. I have to find a new normal. But don't be afraid of me, either.  (I used to be afraid of people who lost someone and so I would avoid them. I wish I hadn't.)  If you think you may have said something that hurt my feelings, you probably didn't.  You're probably just feeling my pain or distraction, and it's not your fault and you can't solve it. But you can be there for me and it means the world to me. And even if you happen to say "the wrong thing", I'm probably going to get over it quickly because I'll just be grateful you were there for me.

God bless us all, in all our trials in life. May our compassion guide us. And may Our Lord comfort and strengthen us all. 

Winner of the Book: My Peace I Give You

My son just drew one name out of the hat for me - one name among the names of all the people who left a comment this week.  And the winner is (drum roll):  MER.   Congratulations and I hope you find it as enlightening and helpful as I did.