The Journey to the Woman I am Today.............Part IV, the finale
Pondering and Wondering ....
Driving through Amish Country, which I do quite often, never ceases to give me time and reason to entertain some pretty deep thoughts. In all seriousness, for me, it's as spiritual an experience as I would hope for.
The breathtaking scenery, in spite of or because of the simplicity everywhere, and the powerful aura of serenity, immediately begin to hypnotize and soothe the senses. Whatever web of anxiety may have weighed you down, it all appears to dissipate with ease, in these seemingly sacred surroundings.
This is when my mind drifts into a realm of possibilities, had my fate, played out much differently, thus far in life.....What if I'd been born into an Amish family and lifestyle......if I'd been raised and groomed by a community of this staunch religious sect that shuns the outside world? ........
The moment I emerge from this foreign, yet captivating environment, abruptly replaced, by the crossroads of two busy rural towns......I am rudely awakened by that outside world and back to being of that world. Fortunately, no one is any the wiser, for my private day dreams.
Reality of the Outside World
Positive affirmations have their time and place when they are useful and encouraging. I have been grateful for the comforting words of inspiration, spoken and written by those with compassion and deep understanding of grief and heartbreak.
There most surely have been times in my life when I've reached out for comfort.....groping for a hand to hold or perhaps a shoulder to lean upon. Those times when words could soothe me and give me hope.
The sudden and unexpected loss of the Love of my life, was not one of those times. Brutally ripped from my very essence, I could not use my senses......I could not see in total blackness, sounds merely echoed through my hollowness and the stench of death was sickening.
As I would embrace my babies, I knew they felt my lifeless arms...saw a head, without a face. The sorrow that I felt for them.....my boys had lost their loving Daddy.......I had a need to be for them, all things I could not be.
Although the storm raged all around me....flooding out my strength.... from somewhere very deep within, I'm sure I heard a whisper.... "get up, sad girl.....learn to dance in the rain."
Time will not be pushed ahead nor forced to stand still.
It's true, so true. Time marches on, to it's own beat, consistently, with no unique regard. It passes by and waits for no one. Move along or be left behind. Few choices, I know, but it is what it is.
How many times have you pulled yourself up and brushed off the dirt and looked straight ahead? Did I hear you say, you've lost count? That's quite all right, for there's no time to look back or go over the past. It just doesn't matter. We're moving onward and upward, so, shake off the trance and breathe in deeply of fresh new air.
Alone, I learned to live again and throw my all into moving forward. My journey, after all, awaited my particpation. I had no right to self indulgence nor self-pity. My body moved, my mind in tow, to heal my heart, so that wholeness might return.
The blessing of my friends and family, a constant presence and source of strength, were priceless to my quest. My sister, so supportive, patient and vigilant was a vital connection between myself and sanity.
For seven years, we lived and loved and carried on, to find the joy of growth that belonged to us. Focusing on happiness and building toward a life of value, my sons and I had walked through walls of steel, that served to strengthen our resolve.
On some occasions, I was forced to see that children often guide the parent. Maturity has a way of setting in, long before expected, when young ones realize the need for independence and responsibility. Our bond became one of allegiance to one another and protection of our progress.
As fate would take the helm, once we'd sailed along those seven years....we met and welcomed a new Captain aboard. Would he be the reward we deserved for years of steadfast hope? He fit right in and gave his heart and chose the role of hero.
It was time I took the steps to allow us to be a blended family, and pool our goals and dreams. No one was more surprised than I, to find I could believe again....and release my heart to someone else......that I could be a wife again.
For the first time in so very long, I felt a needed peacefulness....my sons were giddy with delight. I could not have been more elated to give them two baby brothers.....who filled so many voids we'd had. And there we were, the six of us.....one woman, one man, four precious boys.
I'm weary now, of tales of sadness and disappointment and suppose that you are too. So I'll just make this short and sweet......that's pretty much what it deserves. One dozen years of hills and valleys, paved with ruts and bumps, the Captain and I parted ways. Sad but necessary. I resigned myself to understand what hit me in the face.
To those who claimed in sympathy, so many years ago, that God had taken my precious Fred......might they now suggest it was the Devil who stole our Captain? I tend to think it's not that quaint, but it's something I might consider, as I move along.
Was it I who said, "Our Journey makes us who we are?"
Step aside and guard yourself. I'm coming through with guts and wisdom this time, oh big bad world. I've a force you dare not halt. My tears are gone, my resolve is impenetrable. I'm prepared to challenge all I meet, the good, the bad, the rest.
I will sieze my share of rights....to joy and love and peace. What's rightfully mine....what we're all meant to have. You can come along and watch me soar, or turn your back and close your eyes. By the time you awaken, I'll be out of sight.....for I am woman, hear me roar. As I recall, it was my Dad, who told the world long ago, his baby daughter was a hungry lioness. A comment or prediction? I believe, my friend, the latter.
As the sole-surviving member of my original birth family, I had sat in sorrowful vigil at the bedside of my beloved only sibling, my best friend, as she took her last breath. I held tightly, to her tiny hand, as I stroked her head, talking softly of how much she'd always meant to me. I need to believe she heard these last words of mine.....although in life, she always knew how much I loved her and always would.
Just 2 days short of three months later, I found myself aside the death-bed of our 82 year old mother. Just me and my Mom, alone in a dimly-lit room, she quietly passed. I rested my head on her belly that bore me, six decades ago......and my sobs shattered the silence of her big, old house.
They're gone now, my family of origin....each one of them, gone......leaving me alone. Alone and empty, to miss them every day, with an unrelenting ache.
For every death, there is a birth, for each failure, a victory may come....and for each door that closes, another will open.
I am who I am, as my journey tells the tale. We each leave the footprints that memorialize. From the heights that we reach, to the depths we may fall, life comes full circle with numerous bends. We search for roads that lead us to our destiny. What grows and continues within the midst of this circle, creates our legacy, for loved ones to treasure.
When my life is nearing the end of my Journey......my heart will be happy, my mind at peace...for I thrived through trials, with a courage to be.....clinging always to hope and belief in Love's eternal life.....
I've been blessed with so much, I am humbled and proud. I'm in awe of magnificence where ever I walk. To think of my fortunes, softens the hurts and for that which was taken, gifts come back other ways. This is reality for me and for you. The best can be hoped for....the worst, we must balance, so we land on our feet. There's no other way to take step after step, to continue the journey, that begins with our birth.
This is the final of my 4-Part series of "The Journey to the Woman I am Today."
I sincerely thank you for reading and hope it may have touched you in parts of your own life.
This series is lovingly dedicated to the sweet Memory of my Beloved Grandson, Johnathan Joseph, whose story you may read via the following link"
Free Tears & Goosebumps here
© 2012 Paula