It's been exaclty twenty years since I moved into this house. Three kids, twelve dogs, and all our stuff just a day before Thanksgiving 1988. I remember the make-up of the neighborhood then. Most of the houses were inhabited by mormon widows, their husbands gone off to the Celestial Kingdom ahead of them.
I used to see them sitting on their porches of going off in small groups to church or shop. I felt sorry for them, wondering how they spent their lonely days, and always made a point of stopping to chat.
The neighborhood has changed with young families, children, and I seem to be filling the role those old widows filled. The lonley old lady, living alone. Its interesting to compare myself to them. I dont feel lonely much and wonder if maybe they didnt either. Maybe they were glad to have raised their families and seen them off to their own lives, and maybe they were very glad to be rid of their husbands. I wonder if they spent as much time as I do trying to decide what to do next, how to fill the rest of their lives.
I feel in a way, discarded, a mother who has fulfilled her purpose, a woman whose partner doesnt need her anymore........well, hes dead so how could he? To have had a purpose, several actually, for so many years without having to think for a second what that purpose might be was nice. It became an unconscious habit. And now, with my youngest just moved out, I'm feeling a bit lost, no one to cook for or get off to school, no one to dress up for, no one to listen to.
Parts of this new lost are great. I dont mean to sound all sad, searching for someone to feel sorry for me. Its just that I look forward to the next twenty years and wonder what I am supposed to do with them that will give me that lost sense of purpose again. I have too many choices. Am I supposed to get selfish and just do whatever I want with my time? Many would say, "You've earned it".
I remember Dad playing in his garden and pouring over his stamp collection, reading and watching TV. He seemed satisfied. I remember Mom who seemed totally lost, filling her days with shopping and travel, piling up stuff in her house until there were only small trails from doors to beds. Sad. My two role models for retirement.
There is something in me that doesnt seem satisfied with either model. I still want to save the world or do something of note that will impact lives. I still want to get someone off to school. And yet I dont do any of those or have the motivation to begin a new way. I think this is probably because the last ten years were so dramatic/traumatic that my body and mind want to rest, want to isolate and be quiet. And so, I will let that happen for awhile, being one of those widows that sits on her porch and waits for some young mother to come by and chat.
3 comments:
Wow. This is such a beautiful and evocative story. When I come to visit, I am going to bring my voice recorder and we'll do some recording of your voice. You have so much to share with the world. I'm so glad that you're blogging now and I want you to know that I feel proud of your artistic self independent of your being my mother, and very connected to you in that artist's way.
Well, where to begin. Write, for one thing. Keep writing. Examine that life like you never looked at it before. Bare your darkest self with yourself. Then share it with us. I know, why dark the self? Because you never had much time to look there before. And it's so interesting to know there is that rich dark vein just too deep to see it running through our veins.
Reading your little snippet of profile made me say, "You could be me." But then I though, "But who'd want to be?"
Do you live in Zion? Oh my, poor thing if you do. Waiting for the reunion with the husband where he will have your "colonial mansion replete with darkies to serve" you--all this in the celestial kingdom. Sister wive maybe too. Who knows. What a strange religion.
I'm understand the disorientation women have regarding the "empty nest" problem. No children for me, and I left all the husbands for good and all. Happy alone at last. But when I was newly free of past obligations, I read to my hearts content, sometimes three books a day, I ate when I wanted and found I only ate what I craved. Ah, how nice is that? Then write every day. Every Day! Start as far back as you can remember and do not sentimentalize the past. Spend lots of quiet time with yourself--you will find you're better company than you might have managed.
I see Utah Savage has found her way to my blog. GOD! WE are all linked as hell. Well, thats good since we have always been linked to each other anyway, but can now spend hours floating around commenting on each others lives. Oh thank you for your comment! I have arrived!
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