“Those we love never leave us. There are some things that death cannot touch.”

~ Jack Thorne, (British Screenwriter) ~

As I sit down to write this morning, the sun is shining in an amazingly clear blue sky, and the sounds of heavy equipment accompany the playlist of music I have open on my phone. I’m sitting at my youngest daughter’s dining table in southwestern PA and find myself at a crossroads in life. Again…

I used to love to write for my blog. It’s beginning to feel like a chore. I’ve seriously considered taking my blog in a different direction, though what that direction is remains to be seen. In the beginning my blog was written as a way for me to live outside the realm of pain caused by our oldest daughter throwing us away. Estrangement and abandonment are not easy to live through, of that I can speak with certainty. When your child decides that your existence is irrelevant and toxic to their well being, there really is nothing you can do. Especially if the child engaging in estrangement is an adult. When that same child makes it clear that your presence is no longer welcome in the life of your grandchild, whom you’ve always had close, the pain and hurt is indescribable. Simply indescribable. My blog gave me an avenue to release a lot of what festered inside of me…

Fast forward 18 months.

The estrangement happened in May 2018 and in August of that same year my husband and I sold our home in the Blue Ridge Mountains of NC. We moved to the Lowcountry of South Carolina to be closer to our younger daughter and her family since we were still allowed to be grandparents to her children. What our oldest did to us broke us both, but our marriage was solid and we survived, and even thrived for a while. In March of 2019, we received a very threatening letter from an attorney demanding that we stop writing to our grandson or our daughter in NC would have warrants issued against us for stalking. Does anyone remember the song by Chubby Checker called “How Low Can You Go?” We sure do, and I still do. Suffice it to say that that was the day we both knew we had to let go of our daughter, her husband and our grandson in order to find peace. Not an easy thing to do, not at all. We managed to be happy in our little home in SC and were very much looking forward to building our future there. I kept on writing my blog to keep finding the release it gave me. The tenor of my blog began to change, though offering encouragement to others still remained my top priority. It became less about the pain and rage, and more about the journey of healing. My blog was evolving, just as I was. As we were…

Fast forward 7 months.

Life was relatively quiet by October 1, 2019. Little did we know that a darkness we had NEVER known was lurking and swirling around us. All of us. Even the child that had wilfully shunned her parents would be affected. My husband left our home on October 2, 2019, in the late evening to make an almost 1000 mile drive to New Hampshire. He was always a night owl, so driving through the night was basically normal for him. I stood on our front porch after we hugged and said all the “be carefuls, I love yous and I’ll miss yous” and watched him drive away. I stayed behind because I was only 4 months into a new job with UPS. He was going to New England to see his next oldest brother who had had surgery to remove some toes affected by diabetes. My husband went to see his brother to lend encouragement and to mend fences, so to speak. I’m happy to write that the trip produced the results they both needed and they became close before the lurking darkness would change everything. Absolutely everything.

Fast forward 17 days.

On October 20, 2019, my phone rang. Not an unusual occurrence. My husband told me he was experiencing the worst headache he’d ever had, and that his neck hurt. Here comes the aforementioned darkness… I begged him to go to an Urgent Care, an Emergency Room, a VA Hospital, anywhere! Go and get checked out, please!!! What I should have done was get on a flight to Boston or Manchester the next day and dragged his stubborn ass to an ER myself. I didn’t. He kept telling me he was okay. He was a grown man that didn’t “need” babysitting. Um, okay? How the rest of his life would play out might have been so different had I just flown to New England…

I can’t live my life in the quagmire of “What if?…”

I’ve shared through my blog the journey I’ve been on since the estrangement began. The pain and the rage and the feeling lost. I’ve shared about my husband’s stroke and what it feels like to be helpless and have a front row seat to the chaos that became my beloved’s life. I’ve always hoped that through my sharing that someone, somewhere, is finding comfort in knowing that they’re not alone. It feels incredibly lonely when you’re on a path so dark it seems no light will ever get through. It does, the light does shine again, though it seems to take forever. Sometimes the things that happen to us are so painful and so uncalled for that we simply adapt by staying stuck. Sometimes we try to hide, even though we all know that hiding is never a solution when it comes to healing. Healing from traumatic events such as estrangement, catastrophic stroke and death can be beyond challenging, to say the least. Healing from any event that causes our spirit to break is challenging. It’s become my belief, because of my own journey and consequent healing, that the human spirit is much stronger than we human beings give it credit for. I think this is the reason why I’m beginning to think I should take my blog in a different direction. 

I am now, and will always be, so very grateful that people read my blog. I’m now a widow, just seven months into living a life that I have no idea how to live, though I do know this… I know that because of the support of others, I’m healing. I’m becoming someone new, and yet I still remain who I was. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything, and it may be a long time before I post again. I am in a transitional phase of life right now, trying to figure out how to move forward without leaving the past behind. I don’t want to carry the baggage of pain forward, just the sweet memories. I know I face more darkness as time passes, life is just dark sometimes. I also know I will make it through, as I’m doing now. The next journey might be messy, or neat and tidy; it may be fiery hot or ice cold, but I know, I simply know, that I will face whatever comes and find my way. I’ll reach out to someone else who may need a hand while walking through their own darkness, and gently squeeze so they may know they’re not alone. The quote at the beginning of this post is absolutely true, there are some things that even death cannot touch. 

Remember to always be kind to one another, kindness matters…

Incoming tide and riptide crashing together. Revere, MA. Photo by Barb Enos

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