Lidia Yuknavitch is a hard
act to follow.
But… back to the edge and my story. For context to the following… read
my post on September 2... if you haven't already.
The gong show… first go-around, happened in 2007. The man I’d loved forever, left me for dogged pursuit of youth… his... Chapter one. Then after
three years apart, I took him back… with a misguided determination to love and
accept him for who he was. The narcissistic nurse/ fixer upper in me,
determined to absolve and heal the narcissistic adolescent in him. Silly... silly me!!!!
I was inebriated by denial, loyalty, tenacity and a misguided sense of
purpose. But, not before a whirly round
of emotional whip lashes and virtual body bruises that would have sent me directly
to bed had it not been for a semester of courses to prep
for, a gaggle of students to teach, a tedium of meetings to chair, university
politics to stay clear of, a painfully long commute, a side business to manage
and… unbeknownst to me at the time … a new grandbaby on the way. Life was busy. At 53, round one saw me sucker
punched. But… I felt purposeful. Valid.
People needed me.
During those 3 years of
estrangement from my partner…. as I bore witness to his arrested development
and stupidly pined for reconciliation…. Red Flag! Red Flag! Red Flag!
Where was Dr. Laura when I needed her?.... I was laid off twice from my
university teaching position. (University politics is down and dirty at the
best of times. In the worst of times, it
felt like a battle of David and Goliath.)
“David”… that’s me!.... won
the first round. Thanks to my savvy
financial advisor and an opportunistic accountant …. my argument testifying for inappropriate
dismissal was confirmed and approved. The university powers-that-be relented. I received a decent severance
package. And, then… I was
rehired!!! For a few minutes I felt
triumphant! But, less than a year
later, the whole mucky muck started all over again and I was laid off for the
second time. This time, I surrendered in
favour of sanity. I accepted this as an opportunity to be the fulltime artist I
always wanted to be. I reluctantly retired from teaching at 55. Plan
B?
While my personal drama of
betrayal and loss slithered painfully along, my middle sister’s husband was
diagnosed with brain cancer. He was 49
when he first got the awful, devastating, life crushing news. Thus began a 3
year battle that both my sister and her husband were destined to lose. I wasn’t
in the best frame of mind to be much of a supporter, but I offered what I
could. My brother-in-law died at age
52.
Four months later, my
mother… with whom I shared a very close relationship… suffered a massive heart
attack that took her out suddenly at 78. That’s young in todays world. The
loss of my most ardent cheerleader and compatriot in misguided thinking, was and
still is, enormous.
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| Beautiful Mom and her chickadees |
In light of the layoff and
because I needed to downsize my expenses, I decided to sell my house... the one I’d lived
in, raised my son in and cherished. My adult son was horrified! He still hasn’t forgiven me!
Since I loved my house, I
naturally thought everyone else would too. I expected it to sell in record time
and well above the list price. Not an unfamiliar scenario in Vancouver’s
surreal/unreal and volatile real estate market. But… I listed it a few weeks
too late for a fast, profitable outcome.
The house languished on the market for a couple of months before selling
well below my original price. I miss the enveloping, familiar and comforting
threshold of my modest but beautiful, little, character home, circa 1929. I
don’t miss the gardening, the mortgage and ongoing expenses of owning a house. Today I live
in a new townhome. I haven’t quite adjusted. It feels like a hotel!!!
And, then… I put my cat
down.
In less than 3 years, I lost
the man I loved, a relationship I’d worked hard for. I lost sex!! I lost a job I loved…. twice! I gave up my nest and my neighbourhood. My
best friend of 35 years, died young of complications related to MS, my brother-in-law
died, then my mother…. and then, my cat! Thus began a series of secondary losses as
my immediate family lost hold… of each other.... and spiralled apart. Yikes!!! In terms of loss and grief, the universe was
making up for lost time.
Then, just 6 months ago... because I have to learn everything atleast twice...the whole shit-a-roo happened all over again!!!
Then, just 6 months ago... because I have to learn everything atleast twice...the whole shit-a-roo happened all over again!!!
And… that’s what brought me
to the edge. Not to the edge of
sanity. But, to the edge of loss, body numbing grief, introspection, rumination and confidence. In the blogs ahead I’ll tell
you about the journey back and making acquaintance with my inner
child. It’s still a work in progress. One
that includes the kick-ass girls I’m so blessed to have in my life. They are my
posse. My docents. My brazen ones. My angels.
![]() |
| Little me! The child I lost sight of. |
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t pretend that my story is unique. By the time we reach 60 it can be the norm. For men as well as for women. These are the voices over 50 that I want to hear…. loudly. How women... and even men... rise above the ashes of their own lives and turn into phoenixes. These are the stories I want to share.
Note: There is a basic rule of disclosure. I’ll tell you my story… if you tell me
yours. I’m ready to listen. Follow me and comment.
| Blissful ignorance and "Wild." The calm before the second storm. 2011 |




Many losses, Julie. I have had many as well. By now I'm kind of used to it almost accept it as the norm because of our age. But that makes me value my gains and the new things that come into my life as well as the precious ones that are still here. Keep writing this blog. It's amazing. Not many of us write about this stuff.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your support and encouragement, Donna. A good friend of mine says that the 50's and 60's are gateway years to loss and grief. Loss and grief are not unique as we get older. But, they are difficult to discuss and write about because they are painful. It's my intent here to open the discussion so that, as you say, we can value the gains and the new things as well as the precious ones that stay with us. It's my intent to create a safe place for discussion. to create a community. Thanks for your contributions. XO
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