Are You There God? It’s Me – Bowery

A Tale of Two Paths

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

In the work that I do now, I get to witness people at some of their lowest points. The biggest observation I’ve made is my internal response to these experiences.

I have found these intense events fall under two categories: people who have bad things happen to them; and people who bring about bad things to happen to them.

There are people, who at this very moment, are finding out a loved one has died, that their house has burned down, that their car has been broken into and stolen. These people woke up this morning and had no clue what their day would end up like. They figured it would be another Thursday in a lifetime of Thursdays. And at breakfast, it was just another Thursday.

But by dinner tonight, not so much.

Then there are the other people. This group is not blind sided by the events of their day. They are aware of what their reality is, because they helped build it. They have spent their lifetime of Thursdays exposing themselves to people and events that are not healthy for them. They have made choices every day that have helped them get to the chaos they exist in.

They stay with their husband/wife when they should probably leave; especially when he/she has beaten them, again. They sneak out a window when their parents have forbidden them to leave the house, to meet someone who does not have their best intentions at heart. They have one more drink, one more joint, more, more, more. And finally, they sit up and question how they got to where they are now. What did they do to deserve this? In a word – nothing. But they are the authors of their own horror story. What they don’t realize is that they have laid every brick in the wall. They could choose a different way. It’s one step at a time, but it might as well be a 10 foot stair.

My heart bleeds for the people who get a phone call and find out their world is upside down. I want to reach out to them.

For the person who is angry at the world and doesn’t understand why their 18-year-old daughter is a drug addict when she’s been getting high every weekend since her children were born…

Well, I guess I’ll just have to work on that level of compassion.

Letters that Need to be Written – Part I

/ Sarah / 1 Comment

Dear 2011,

I thought this letter would be really hard to send you, but I think this is really going to be the best thing for the both of us.

We’re done.

We started a year ago with a lot of promise. I was hopefully for what you had in store for me and excited with what lay ahead. When January finally arrived and I was laid off my job, I was disappointed, but chose to take the high road and make lemonade out of lemons. The Big Guy was happy with his new job, and I figured, it was time for me to re-evaluated some things. Everyone around me was so supportive – “It’s just a matter of time,” they said, “You’ll be back to work before you know it.”

But I wasn’t.

I worked my butt off. No job. I stuck with you because it was early in our relationship. How bad could it be?

Silly me.

In February we found out The Farm was sold. A part of my heart died and my soul has ached ever since. We had two months to get used to the idea but with each passing day it was just more painful. Next my father was given scary news. The Big C had come to his little world and surgery was needed.

Easter came and we received more bad news – The Big Guy’s mom was very ill and it wasn’t going to get better. The following week we said our first good bye to The Farm. The next week, my father went under the knife. Four hours later, he was conscious and as sarcastic as ever, and I went home to pass out after the stress of  the day. Within three days, my sons buried their granny.

In the summer, Samson failed and we were faced with the incredibly difficult choice of letting him go. At this point there was so much snot and tears that I started getting the feeling that you and I might not be the best fit.

I gave you some slack when we found Roman. There was a glimmer of hope there. I was willing to give you another chance.

I was so distracted with freelancing and looking for work that the weeks flew by. We found ourselves wrapping up our long goodbye to The Farm. The pain of this was eased somewhat by the fact that I now had a freakin’ job. While the training for the new position had me questioning my sanity, intelligence level and the ulterior motive of my new employer, I was successful.

I was ready to be positive, honestly, I was, but for some reason it was too hard. My Dad, who appeared to be doing well over the summer, started to fail. It was getting very scary and by October, he was in emerg almost as much as he was at home. I knew I had it with you when November rolled around. The scare we had with him was profound and life altering. We nearly lost him. I decided I couldn’t find a glimmer of hope in our relationship, 2011. You and I needed to take a break.

I know you were trying to extend an olive branch to me last week, when doctors gave  Dad the news that he was Cancer free. However, he is far from healthy and we are doing everything we can to get him stronger.

I will look back on the afternoons under the trees with family and friends. I will cherish the warm weather we had while I worked outside. I would have liked a day or two at the beach, but I think I’m going to try that next year.

That’s right. I’ve found someone new. I’m excited about the opportunities that are presenting themselves again. I’ve learned a lot in the time you and I spent together. I will not ask myself “How much worse can it get?” because the answer is chilling. I will take it one day at a time. I look forward to feeling positive again. The next 12 months have made no promises to me, and I’m okay with that.

So, I hope you can let me go and allow me to move one. In time I’m sure I’ll recall more fond memories, but for now, I need time.

And his name is 2012.

Sarah

About A Boy

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I have just experienced a rather profound moment. It happened shortly before I took this photo.

I had been listening to the Weather Network, where, in true media fashion, they sensationalized the rash of tornadoes that ripped across my region two years ago. Footage of uprooted trees, destroyed buildings and rescue workers made me anxious when I looked outside. At that moment I immediately identified with two people who lost their son in that storm.

Ironically, I knew The Boy’s parents when I was about his age. His mother rode the bus with me in elementary school and was like an older sister to me, in spite of the fact that she was already the eldest sister of several other siblings. His father rode the bus with me in high school and was someone I could relate to, with his dry sense of humor. I never met The Boy but years after I lost track of his parents, we found ourselves across the room from each other at Prenatal Class. His parents were, like The Big Guy and myself, expecting their first-born child. We spent a summer of excitement and anticipation. We joked about the scarier aspects of childbirth as a coping mechanism. We cheered each other on with our little milestones and marvelled at how our lives continued to be intertwined.

Then lives got busy with babies: ours with First Born Son, theirs with The Boy; and eventually, second babies. It wasn’t until I was on facebook years later that I was able to see what a gorgeous child The Boy was. Dark thick hair like his mother, eyes like his father, and by his mother’s description, a true blend of the both of them. He was more than clever; he was kind, insightful and generous. He had a wisdom beyond his years and after his passing, triggers and memories haunted and comforted his family – the beauty of a butterfly, the surprising reaction of the family pet, the generosity of his classmates.

The first year goes by, and with it, the first Christmas, birthday, school year and other milestones a family celebrates all without The Boy. His family healed, but is still wounded which is why I was so upset with the television coverage today. In the aftermath of the tornado, The Boy’s family refused to talk to the media. They didn’t want their personal nightmare played out like some cheap entertainment for mass consumption. I respect them for that – and wish more people would do the same. They never gave permission for his name to be released, which is why I’m respecting their privacy now.

I have looked at First Born Son and felt a twinge when I think how tall he is getting and how he will enter high school in a couple of weeks – all things The Boy would be doing too. I cannot imagine the pain of losing my child, but I can appreciate the loss. No one wants to live it, and those who live it, will never escape it – and from what I understand, they don’t necessarily want to.

But back to the sky. When I saw it, I felt overwhelmed. I know how the family dreads storms, especially those with high winds. There was definitely something brewing.

Do you see that slice in the clouds? It’s almost as if your arms were long enough, they could pull back the layers and reach into heaven. Or perhaps, if you were in heaven, you could see what was happening down below.

And it occurred to me; The Boy’s family was marking this year’s anniversary this very day with a barbecue. They wanted to celebrate, rather than mourn. And so I looked at the clouds one more time with rose-colored glasses.

There is a silver lining in those clouds – do you see it? The Boy is there, looking down at his family; celebrating with them. He can’t keep the storm away but he was a Glass Half Full kinda kid, therefore the beauty inside that angry cloud could be nothing but happiness. The Boy was full of joy, his mother said, and suddenly the trepidation I felt early was replaced with peace.

While I couldn’t be there for the barbecue today, I was very present in spirit. And I believe The Boy was too.

The Aftermath of a Funeral

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I know the calendar has May as a full month – but I can say with all certainty that the last time I looked at the calendar and processed the date, it was May 6.

And here we are now in the last full week of the month.

In a nutshell – life in Boweryville exploded about two weeks ago. The Big Guy’s mother passed away. While it was not unexpected, it was sudden. We knew her end was in sight, but certainly not within days. He and I found ourselves in the position of aiding his father through the demanding and emotional pitfalls that planning a funeral can be.

Throughout this experience, I found myself faced with huge ironies that I would like to share – in no particular order.

1. People forget who the funeral is for. Firstly, the deceased and secondly, the surviving spouse or offspring. Any decision that we were faced with making was filtered this way – Would she have wanted this? Does my Father-in-Law want this? Does TBG or his brother want this? Anyone outside of that pecking order was simply not considered. There was a person or two who would make comments about decisions that were made – and I would refer to the Pecking Order. I don’t think you have to apologize for that.

2. Funerals bring out the worst in people. While it’s lovely and romantic to think of loved ones clutching Kleenex to their chest and gently weeping, so great is their pain, the cold hard truth is, there will always be one asshole individual who will try to make ANY situation about themselves. This is not the time for drama. This is not the time to lay a claim. This is not the time to purge yourself of your past regrets. Get. Over. Yourself.

3. There have been many times in my life as a Mother that I have been proud of my children, but never more so that during the day of visitation and the next day at the funeral. My boys stood and shook hands with hundreds of people they didn’t know. They watched people react emotionally and they handled themselves brilliantly. My heart swelled when I was paid a very sincere compliment from someone who appreciated how well the boys conducted themselves. They made eye contact, they smiled when appropriate, they answered questions – usually the same ones – sincerely and politely, for hours. While it made my heart full to see them do that, it nearly made me burst with pride when someone else actually noticed it too.

4. Have I mentioned yet that people are assholes inconsiderate? One person who came to pay his respects actually said to my boys “Well, you’d better get used to being in this line-up because with the age of the people around you, you’re going to be doing this a lot more often!” While First Born Son and Second Born Son were busy picking their chins off the floor, I wondered to myself what his ride home was going to be like – as his wife looked ready to put him in a box herself!

5. For all the times people have thought us crazy for buying shirts, ties and suits for our kids, it totally pays off at a time like this. Second Born Son is not naturally drawn to the button shirt and tie like his brother is. But when I advised he would be wearing a tie for two days – as well as his suit for the funeral, he merely nodded – he knew it was not only proper, but required. I loved him even more for it.

6. A part II to that thought….we realized that we needed to buy SBS shoes – and ended up getting him a pair of MENS SIZE 7 DRESS SHOES. I’m in distress over this! My baby is wearing MENS SHOES! The only thing that saved my breaking heart was his humor. When presented with several Oxford styles as well as a pair of more on-trend slip ons, he replied “I don’t care what dress shoes look like, as long as they are comfortable. I only care what my running shoes look like.” Good to have your priorities Little Man!

7. You truly find out who your friends are in times like this. People you would never anticipate hearing from will show up at your door with a pie, cheese tray or other gesture of kindness. This gives you faith in humanity, not to mention about 10 extra pounds. I think I have to avoid lasagna and funeral sandwiches for a couple of weeks.

8. Regret is a useless emotion. The first time I heard it was in college, but this saying has become my motto. I want to live my life without regret, and I feel,  so far, I’ve done well. Throughout this experience I’ve had a front row seat to actions and consequences regarding regret. Death always wins – none of us gets out of here alive, so you might as well make your choices and actions so you go in a direction without regret.

9. Not every death is a bad thing. When you see someone will not improve, and you know there is suffering involved – all you want for them is peace. If death brings peace, so be it. The living are there to console each other.

10. I need to give some serious thought to my final wishes. I cannot imagine giving my husband, children and parents the chore of planning and imagining my needs and wants. The pain one goes through to create a sendoff their loved one would like is heart wrenching. No one should have to go through that.

A New Christian Holiday

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Second Born Son: Are we going to church tomorrow?

Me: Yes, it is Palm Sunday.

SBS: What’s so special about that?

Me: That’s the day that Jesus road into Jerusalem on a donkey and people spread out robes and palm branches.

SBS: Oh, so what’s next week then?

Me: Easter – when Jesus is crucified.

SBS: Crucified? What’s that?

Me: (perplexed – we are regular Easter attendees and he’s heard the Easter story before.) When he was nailed to the cross.

SBS: Ew ya, that’s gross! But I thought that’s why we have Halloween, cuz it’s scary!?

I’m a failure as a mother…..

Hello world!

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Are you ready for The Bowery?

For those of you who have been patient enough to follow me from my previous life on Blogger, THANK YOU! For those of you who are masocists, feel free to check out thebowerygirl.blogspot.com and see if your brain explodes before your computer does.

In spite of feeling like I’m starting over, I do like the idea of a clean slate, to get some ideas together and be organized in my writing.

So, who am I and what gives me the right to thing I have anything to contribute to the World Wide Web? I’m Sarah. I started The Bowery in a weekly community paper that I was employed by during the first stage of my working life. I have some pretty firm opinions and while I do like to share my opinion, I respect the fact that I’m not the only one. I’m open to learning and feel we all have something to give. (Some of us should give a little less than others…)….which leads me into the final thing you need to know about me. I have a bent sense of humor. Irreverent – yes, politically correct, not always.

I am a mom and a wife, which means nothing, other than I have a lifetime of material, when it comes to hilarity, heart-rendering poignancy and a heaping helping of reality. You can relate to me because we are similar – we want the best for our kids, want more for ourselves and are able to sit back and laugh at the stupidity that life hands us.

Welcome!