Where do we go from here?

Now that all other children are growin up? And How do we spend our lives if there’s no one to lend us a hand?

Alan Parsons Project-Games People Play

This…lately I find myself pondering my existence. Truly, what is my purpose in this short time on Earth? Okay so it may be a bit too late or perhaps on the contrary, it is the exact right time. As a gen X woman who grew up in a male dominated family, I look back now as a woman who raised 3 daughters, and I’m astonished at my ignorance. I was literally raised in the patriarchy and had blinders on for most of my life. It took becoming a widow at 48 years old, out of blatant necessity, to finally stick my head out of the muck.

I went from being a programmed woman, who from the outside, for all intent purposes appeared like she was performing perfectly, to an untethered raw soul who for the first time in her life had to arrive. I suddenly had to make decisions about everything, from what phone service to choose, to how much money I could spend, what I could buy, how I would raise 3 teenage daughters, an infinity of choices thrust upon me overnight. I had to reboot due to a cosmic shock that left me deprogrammed. Over the past 8 years, I have stumbled, fallen, cried, screamed, learned, stumbled again and emerged stronger, humbled, grateful, deeply saddened, disillusioned and at last accepting of myself as a work in progress, rising to meet my potential yet allowing for several rest breaks along the way. I am a woman who does the work of healing past trauma in order to avoid passing on the generational wounds that so many woman before me had to endure because they could never possibly even conceptualize having choice or a voice.

Truthfully, I continue to struggle with making decisions and choices. I am overwhelmed by the impossible weight of casting ones power when choosing one path over another. I am uncomfortable with options. I realize that I lived a life which placed me on a track , wound me up and let me go, but with rumblestrips to keep me in line, sort of like bowling with railings. I felt like I had power and choice but it was all an illusion created by a male driven society. Albeit unpopular by todays standards, it actually worked well at the time. I was on a trajectory of success after all, I was pursuing my education, going on for even higher education. According to societal measures, I was an independent intelligent successful woman who would utimately win over a nice educated successful young man. And so the story goes…

Shortly after completing my Masters degree, I fell in love and got married. In my naive mind , my husband and I were a power couple. We both completed our Masters degrees and had relatively good jobs. I never once asked my husband what his salary was, but somehow he was acutely aware of mine. I never knew what we paid for bills. He took care of that with his bank account which did not have my name on it because ” I shouldn’t have to worry about the bills”, that was his job as a provider. I had my checking account which had his name on it because ” we are married, we share everything”. As I write this, I am embarrassed at my lack of discernment. We went on to have children or rather I gave birth to 3 children. We raised our children together. My roles as wife and mother were predetermined by society’s expectations and my lack of perception or belief that I had any choice in modifying them. These titles insidiously claimed my entire identity. I gradually made myself small in order to help my husband rise up in his career and goals. Don’t get me wrong, I was a driven woman. I dug my proverbial heels into being a Super Mom. I wore that title proudly. I found my voice in the small daily triumphs of advocating for my children both in and out of school. I worked part time so I could have my own money to pay for my girls dance classes and horseback riding lessons. I told myself and others that my career didn’t matter, my kids came first. Which placed me at odds with wonderful intelligent woman in my life who chose to advance in their careers. I secretly envied them. I believed the lie that one cannot have it all, you must choose between being a “good”Mother or having a fulfilling career. Not once did it occur to me that perhaps I could have both. I gave up on myself, I lost self confidence, I became a people pleasing drone, yet I didn’t even know it. The loss of myself was like a slow moving virus. It consumed me. And then one dreary March day in 2018, my husband and I sat in his doctors office as we were told he had a large mass surrounding his pancreas…Pancreatic Cancer..our devil had arrived at our door and our reality and roles shifted in a moment, never to be the same again.

Since becoming a widow almost 8 years ago, a lot has changed. I have worn many hats along the way and I have flexed my solo Mom and independant woman muscles to the point of exhaustion. I have taught 3 daughters to drive, moved 3 daughters in and out of college and apartments countless times, changed jobs 4 times, bought 2 cars, buried a dog, lost my Dad, made a last will and testament, paid in full for my own gravesite, sold our home without a realtor, lived in a 3rd floor walk up apartment with 2 of my daughters, bought a condominium and the list goes on….

Through it all, I never wavered. That is until I landed in this strange space of empty nesting. It is here in this quiet, where I find the silence deafening and occasionally quite unsettling. I have the gift of indulging in a myriad of choices freedom galore if you will.Yet it is here in this space between running and planning my next chapter that I am struck with just how truly anxious it makes me. I am committed to opening my mind and heart to this precious time. I understand it is a gift. I just need more time to allow my soul to believe those words. I want to retrieve some childlike reverie, to allow dreams to take form and delight in the what ifs? even for a short time, I want to play here for a while and ask myself…”Where do we go from here,now that all other children are growin up?”