what I am grateful for

What I am grateful for
Mark ‡ Ease, flow and abundance ‡ Cathy Manning / Life Coach
Javier ‡ Landmark ‡ Energy, beauty and love
Haven, crying in her back room right away, her friendship, and commaraderie.
Angela, her taking me out the Day after M left and for her friendship the last two years and onwards.
Going door to door and making new friends.
Running with neighbor and getting a cramp, stopping to say hello to Amy and Edwin, meeting new people, like Diane Watson, and Nancy, going to church, circle dinners and meeting Dayna and Marianne Cushing, learning about the kirtans
Matt ‡ many things. Grateful for the love he did give me, pure and free, fully self-expressed and passionate. (While it lasted)
The ferry. A gift everyday.
My children, who are my inspiration and my gift to myself and of myself. They are the best, most generous, flexible and helpful of all the world.
Jenn ‡ for her help the summer in helping me move
Erin and her family. Lovely souls, real friends
Beauty all around me. The water, the city, the beautiful projects at work, my girls’ art
Working 4 days a week. Wow. I do have it all
Being a leader, making a difference
My mom sticking through with it, all of it, all the time, alone
My laptop
Warmth/heat
My smooth sheets
Jan, our minister, the parish
Ida ‡ for coming back.

FAITH

I get really uncomfortable around that word. I don’t understand it I suppose. I am afraid of religion, of giving my power away, and faith to me means that the belief in another power, a higher power. That higher power is me. I believe in me.

Interestingly, I am going to church now for the very first time in my life. Well, I lived in a church in college, but that is another story.

When I sold the marital home this summer, I moved to Scituate. Wow. I might as well have moved to Beirut. It was like I had fallen off the face of the earth to all my friends in Hingham. I didn’t have an aupair anymore. When I was alone in the house I was alone. I could drop dead, and no one would know! I decided I had to change course and try something different. So I went door to door and met my new neighbors. Later on, I threw a housewarming party and distributed fliers emblazoned with “Meet your new neighbors” on it inviting them to the grand bouncy castle affair.

Over the summer, I met my artistic neighbors, the Ruffos. Debbie and I went running one morning and I had a terrible cramp which severely slowed me down. As I limped home, I noticed a couple in their front lawn planting and tending their garden. Amy and Edwin and I talked and shared for almost 2 hours right there on the spot. They had met on Match.com and were getting married this coming spring. They were lovely. Effervescent and evolved. Good people.

A while later, Amy celebrated her birthday with a dress up party and many diverse friends. I was excited to attend and enjoyed everyone there. So many like-minded souls. Diane who had been divorced and remarried to a wonderful man later in life, and so on. In the corner was a striking woman, Nancy who reminded me of the woman I imagined I would become 30 years later at my creating my future retreat with Jane Pollack. Long, flowing grey hair, brilliant, natural features. Wonderful smile and very welcoming spirit. I was drawn to her, and we talked quite a long time until the party wound down and it was time to go. She offered to drive me home, and we talked another several hours in the car. Wow. Sharing and enormous bonding. All was revealed. No healed, but it was out there. Where did she meet all these people? Who were all these like-minded souls? It turned out that by and large, everyone knew each other from church. It was a “When Harry met Sally” moment. I’ll have what she’s having. Sign me up. I want some of that energy. Some of that glow. The next morning I went to church. The Unitarian Universalist Church in Cohasset’s commons. A lovely place.

Snowblowing with a baby in a back pack

Snowblowing with a baby in a back pack

It is not that hard really. You just do it. Everyone says, “how can you do it, you are really something.” The snow needs to get blowed and you blow. Just blow. If you can, you try to get up early, and do it before the kids get up and need to get ready. It is easiest that way. If you are too tired, you wake up late and do it with them. Gwyneth was old enough to be in the house by herself, eat her breakfast or draw for a bit. Margot, of course, was just a baby still. So she would come out with me. I bundled her up, put her in the baby bjorn and zipped up my jacket around her. She loved it really. She loved being in the baby bjorn, that was where she was most easily soothed. If she had her druthers, she would have been in it all the time! So into the contraption she went. She snuggled in, and I got the machine rip roaring on. Around and around we went. She had a blast.

In the earliest days I cursed him, his shadow, his selfishness. Cruel cruelty! Injustice. Then I peacefully and thankfully gave that up. It is what it is. This is what it is. Right here right now I need to do this thing. She loves it, she is not complaining, and when she did complain, we stopped. Sometimes I only did half the driveway, sometimes only a strip. Sometimes, I just turned it on, and then turned it off again, shoved it back into the garage, trampled back into the house, unwrapped her, unwrapped myself, and cried. Sometimes I laughed. I began to give myself permission not to finish the driveway. I did the best I could. Sometimes there were ice patches. It is what it is, and this is what it is, right here right now. And then I went to work.

The beginning of Chapter 2

“Every day I write the book” … Some Rastafarian wrote that. Well I do. For over two years, I have obsessively written this book, crafted chapter headings, and even thought of cover designs, formats and layouts for the pages. I knew it would be funny, irreverent, uplifting and speak to people who have gone through a crisis of the heart of their own.

Mine started October 4th of 2004, a normal day. I actually had a massage in the morning and had forgotten my cell phone at home. While pulling up to the massage appointment, I had scraped the sides of our fancy wheels while parallel parking. Urg, what would Mickey say, He’ll have a fit, call me irresponsible and …. Well the thoughts thankfully drifted away as my lovely masseuse, Michelle, kneaded and pleaded my knots away. She is a dream, so talented. Her forearms cold as she runs the length of them along my back after focusing great strength in a particular spot for a while.

I got home and saw that my husband’s car was in the driveway. I felt guilty. A sinking feeling fell over me, oh, no the baby! Damn, I forgot my cell, the aupair had to call him with an emergency. And all the while, I was in dream land! I rushed in, was everything ok? How was Margot? Everything was fine, he and our Danish aupair reported. Then he asked, “Do you have a moment to talk?” My first thought was hallelujeh! He gets me! Finally he gets me!

Two days earlier, I had had a job interview with a large global company to be their new creative director. I had come home in a panic. I knew I had aced the interview and I was stressed about what my working at that capacity would do to my family dynamic, to us, to him. I had worried about him! Anyway. When ever we had a big discussion, things usually went into silent mode afterwards. I always wanted to talk, and he always wanted to forget about it and move on. So I was excited when he suggested we go to the park (my favorite park, World’s End, where I worked off my baby weight). We drove in his new convertible, one of the few times I actually did. And nary did we step through the entrance to the park but the dish was served.

I can’t do this anymore.

What? What do you mean. I understood, but did not understand. I thought we had come here to talk. I thought you were going to talk my language, confess that you were there equally for me, and my career as I had been for yours. That you would support me in all that I desired to do and be, a career woman and a kick ass mom of two.

What do you mean, you can’t do this anymore. Of course you can, we can! We are married. I don’t have to take this new job!

“No, you don’t understand, I am in love with someone else!” And then my legs stopped working, my knees buckled out from under me and I fell to the ground. I just layed on the ground and cried. I cried out, words which are long lost to the wind and the moment. I think I pleaded, begged, hugged him, ran away, I don’t know. You think you will remember a time like that but all I really remember for sure is the moment he said the words and I fell to the ground.

The rest of the next two years is a blur really. I think this is the first day I am really me. I don’t remember my second daughter, Margot’s first tooth, or her first steps. Much of the first year is just a series of images, like from a scrap book.

Intention

Welcome to my Blog - a community that unites women all around the world to create community to support and educate single working mothers to create a life of ease and abundance.

Being a single mother can be a very isolating experience. This is a place to celebrate, to combine resources and get information. I hope to address many new topics on this blog: (re) gaining Financial Freedom, Raising children, Creating Passionate Partnership
Navigating Divorce, Community Childcare initiative, Business life, Urban / Suburban, Photography, Stories and my new book:
Removing the ring.