It's been challenging. My husband has lots of things going on with his body, and I am basically his only caretaker - driving him to the emergency room, picking up medication, doing my best to ease his pain. I don't want to go into any more detail.
What I am learning here is that I am in the mindset of my generation of women, i.e. it's our "job" to take care of husband, children, the whole darn world. That's me, super mom. And we're supposed to do it all cheerfully, lovingly and with compassion while putting ourselves second - or even fourth. If we have murderous thoughts, we are supposed to feel guilty.
I'm learning that thoughts of, "I want OUT." are natural, that I won't act on them, but feeling guilty about those thoughts only drains the energy more, and the resentment pops out at inappropriate and destructive times.
I was advised to come clean with my husband, whom I love DEARLY. He totally understood, which is one of the reasons I love him DEARLY. He encouraged me to take care of nurturing myself; promised that if I did, he would survive.
My dear friend and teacher, Debbie, asked me, "What do you love to do just for yourself?"
Well, today I asked myself that question and this is what I did.
I got in the car and drove aimlessly, knowing the gps would get me home when it was time. That simple activity with no purpose, no concrete result, was amazing. I so enjoyed seeing the beautiful hills, sheep, trees, homes I found myself driving through! I so enjoyed being alone. I remembered the times when I did that - just wandered, explored. I listened to the radio as I was driving - Prairie Home Companion, one of my favorite programs; then a program about polar bears. I stopped to use a restroom. When I came home, Steve was asleep. I did some work.
Maybe he'll get well. Maybe he won't. Maybe I'll learn to be less "attached" to his process. In the meantime, I can take an hour here or there to be selfish, to do something just for me and no one else. What a concept.
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Kaycheri,
ReplyDeleteHere is a Sestina that I wrote. It speaks, somewhat harshly about the doing for other. It
is difficult and after 40 years of togetherness (husband, then partner), I choose to live alone and write...with Camilla as soul mate. I applaud your tenacity and caring, for hanging in. Now, this is supposed to make you smile, or perhaps laugh! In the Sestina, the word at the end of a line in the first stanza is repeated, but differently in the next stanzas, with a tercet at the end. It is more like a math problem. Sharing this with Debbie? x
What I Want
Not some old man on top
Flat like a cookie in my kitchen
Or pushing his wheelchair
Or shopping in deadly harmony.
NO, I want the ocean sounds
And the wind in my hair!
Just imagine your thinning hair
With very little on top
And you making those doggie sounds
As you search for a bone in my kitchen,
All angry and devoid of harmony
Like a wheel-less wheel chair.
Please sit down in this folding chair
And let me stroke your failing hair
In some pretense of harmony
With no discussion of who’s on top!
Just savor that Mommy aroma in my kitchen
And murmur some soothing sounds!
I want the ocean sounds
While reading in a canvas beach chair
Out of this jail-like kitchen
That salt breeze in my hair
Wearing nothing on top
And alone in total harmony.
Can two ever know harmony?
Or do you hear fighting sounds
With each one vying for top,
Sitting in separate chairs
Each pulling their hair
And wanting to be in “Martha’s Kitchen”?
Well, I’m sure out of the kitchen,
Alone now and sensing total harmony
Gently stroking my own hair,
Writing poetry in a slat-backed chair
Eating rice pudding with a cherry on top
And hearing my own purring sounds.
Deliciously owning this perfect chair
My selves in perfect harmony
Dozing to those sucking, rolling ocean sounds.
KAY D. WEEKS, FEBRUARY, 2010