Honoring the Women Who Went Before MeI take pride in being a “do it yourself” woman. There is nothing more satisfying than a successful home repair and I just managed to fix my toilet! This was not my first rodeo. My Dad always made sure to walk me through any small repairs he did for me so I learned the basics. After identifying and buying the right flapper that would work with my Toto low flow toilet, and watching a couple of YouTube videos, I was ready for the challenge. A half an hour later, BOOM! MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! Helen Reddy’s song is running through my brain. “I am strong! I am invincible! I am WOOOO-MAN!” Fixing a toilet is nothing, however, compared to the challenges that faced other women in my family, many of whom did not even have a toilet to fix. I see them when I am working on my family tree and I marvel at their tenacity, strength, and courage. My great great grandmother Susan Doble survived an Indian rebellion alone in her home in the 1860’s when her husband went off to fight in the Civil War. Here is an excerpt from her obituary: (Judging by the last line, her trust in God was aided by the fact that she had an established relationship with the Native Americans in her neighborhood.) My grandma Vera Doble, lost her mother in 1897 to a horse and buggy accident. She was three. She was sent to live with relatives and had to protect herself against sexual advances from their son. Later she joined her father and new step mother and worked in her step mother’s boarding house. She had to stop and lay down on the floor while she was making beds because she had a hernia. Her tenacity led to a long life. She died at 104. My other grandma, Mia Viklund, left Sweden in 1910 when she was 26 and traveled alone across the Atlantic and half way across the United States to join her betrothed, Viktor Anderson, so that they could be married in Minnesota and start a new life together. Her courage to make that trip made it possible for me to be born in Minnesota 38 years later. I am proud of my accomplishments as a single woman, but I know my obituary will not have a description of how I single-handedly fixed a leaking toilet. The challenges I have faced do not compare to those of my female relatives. I have had the advantage of modern conveniences and the woman’s movement. I can’t begin to fathom what my female ancestors had to face. I want to remember and acknowledge that I have a long line of incredible women who paved the path for me. Their lives shaped my ability to live with the freedom and independence I take for granted.
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Seeds and WeedsI went to a support group that is focused on exploring grief through creativity. There is homework. Being an ex-teacher I can relate to homework. I take it seriously. I know my creative ideas don’t sprout from a vacuum. I need outside sources to spur me on. The inspiration for the homework was “Doubt Seeds Our Weeds.” We could interpret it in whatever way we wanted using whatever process we wanted, including art, crafts, writing, photography, gardening, anything that feels creative. I chose to write a blog entry. Sometimes I struggle with coming up with an idea for my blog so this is a little gift. Let's see where it takes me. Right away it made me think about my garden and the struggles I have been having. More than two weeks ago I planted pole bean and pumpkin seeds. So far the total number of sprouts that have come up is ONE. Obviously I did something wrong. Why is it that weeds need absolutely no attention to grow but my carefully tended veggies are not coming up. Gardening is not for sissies. As with so many other things in life, you have to be prepared for failure. There are definitely some metaphors here - seeds, planting, growth, FAILURE. I hate failure. I hate making mistakes. My whole life has been an exercise in avoiding mistakes. As a result I have avoided doing risky things and things I know I’m not good at. Thankfully I have friends who have gently shoved me into experiences that I normally would have avoided like the plague, including taking belly dancing classes and running class five rapids in a rubber raft. I guess I could say my friends are seed planters, but rather than sewing seeds of doubt they have brought me hope and encouragement. They have given me so many opportunities to grow that I never would have experienced without their help. Now, about weeds. I think the idea of weeds in the prompt was that they are negative things. I certainly don’t like to battle them in my garden. On the other hand, weeds are the hardiest of plants. They will come up anywhere, including cracks in the sidewalk. They have adapted to the worst conditions and even thrive in them. And they can be beautiful. People go to the desert in the spring just to see the wildflowers in bloom. I feel a connection with the weeds’ struggle to survive. A big part of my life has been learning to adapt to difficult situations. I like the idea that life’s challenges are an opportunity to grow. I feel that the death of my sister is one of those instances. It has motivated me to reach out for support which has opened up the possibilities to meet new people and experience things I might not have done. Keeping in mind that my gut reaction is to avoid risky situations, my sister's loss has motivated me to live my life and not listen to that inner voice that is afraid to try new things. I know Lin would love to see me sprouting like a wildflower. We spurred each other on so many times. If one of us was reluctant to try something new, the other would provide the nudge to take on the challenge. She was not only my sister, she was my best friend, and like my other friends she was a seed planter. She helped me evolve so that I could become stronger and more resilient even in the toughest of times, and she inspired me to see my own beauty in the same way I see it in weeds. It is their struggle that has made them beautiful. It amazes me how quickly pain can show up and debilitate me. I guess this is part of aging. I evidently lifted something that was too much for my shoulder to handle and it has been crying out. It’s really angry.
The practical me headed to the doctor where I got a referral to a physical therapist and some exercises to do at home. The mystical side of me checked out what Louise Hay had to say about shoulders. I believe in a two pronged approach. Louise Hay says shoulder issues represent our ability to carry out experiences in life joyously. We make life a burden by our attitude. Shoulder pain is related to the feeling that you need to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I sure as heck often feel this way, especially after experiencing the loss of my sister. I have felt overburdened by the things I have no control over. Louise suggests affirmations like: “I choose to allow all my experiences to be joyous and loving.” There’s the word “joy” again. It’s been on my mind since Christmas when I spelled it out in twinkly lights and displayed it in my front yard. I think the universe is trying to tell me something, but it doesn’t seem realistic to be joyously skipping through life’s tragedies. How can all of my experiences be joyous and loving? Is there a message in this physical pain I am having that I need to look at differently? What's joyful about an injured shoulder? “Yay, I’m happy I can’t even manage to take a shower and get dressed without pain? Woo hoo it’s fun to try and brush my teeth with my left hand?” This debilitating shoulder thing has made even the simplest tasks seem like climbing a mountain. I feel like telling Louise Hay to go take a hike, using harsh four letter words. Whoa, I really am angry! So I went back and looked at some of the articles I had read about Louise and her take on shoulders and I found this phrase: Sometimes pain just needs to be acknowledged. Yes. I feel this way about both my physical pain and the emotional pain that has been hanging over me. It has been a burden. Thank God the physical therapy has lessened the physical pain to a level that’s bearable. I doubt that my emotional pain can be dealt with so easily but I do believe that acknowledging it is a key and, in accepting that, there is joy. |
Leslie Masona woman in search of her post-retirement future Guess what! By subscribing, you get notices about the latest Little Old Lady with Cats posts sent to your mailbox!
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