(M)Other's Day Next Month

I just learned about this awesome sounding event in Chicago next month. It's called The Other's Day Brunch. I can't go this year, but I'd honestly/seriously like to go next year. Make a trip out of it. My boyfriend likes Chicago. I've been a couple of times. Do some shopping (maybe) and eat some good food (definitely). See some sites. And go to this brunch! Why not? One of my favorite strategies in life is to have things to look forward to.

I can't go to the Other's Day Brunch this year. I already have Mother's Day plans. Sigh... 

For years, Mother's Day was on the forefront of my radar screen and I made sure to stay home that day. I didn't want to go out to eat or even run errands. I could not handle anyone wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. I just stayed home and ordered pizza instead.

Over time, Mother's Day dropped off my radar screen. Some years I forgot about it completely. And now I just don't care. I don't feel bad or sad or bitter. I just don't care.

But we'll see how I feel this year... 

Because this year I will be on vacation with my parents and sisters. One of my sisters lives in a tourist town, so it's a great place for us to meet to visit. My mother is very excited about going out for a Mother's Day lunch. She is calling the whole trip her Mother's Day Weekend trip, which, sure, I guess it is. She's a mom and she'll get to spend Mother's Day weekend with her three adult daughters. That is something to celebrate, and I am not being sarcastic.

So I actually have Mother's Day plans this year, but I really want to go to brunch in Chicago next year! This year should be fine though. I think I'm going in with the right attitude. I will be there to celebrate my family's health and our ability to get together. I don't expect anyone to think twice about what the day might mean to me. If any strong feelings arise, I will tuck them safely away and feel them later when I'm by myself... Preferably on the beach. :)

Picture found here https://www.franklinarts.com/blog/entry/summer-beaches

After Ten Years

Making sense of things was a privilege I had before enduring infertility. 

The illusion of certainty, of logic being ever-present, of things working out are long, long, long gone.

I have no hope and very rarely use the word anymore.

This foundational shift in my existence prepared me to handle a pandemic. The shattering of my beliefs is helping me live alongside whatever the hateful hell is going on around me. 

But this blog has never been about the bigger picture. It's always been about me and my little life and how I dealt with what was the worst thing I could ever imagine (i.e., not getting to be a mom).

I'm okay. My little life is okay. I don't know about the future. I have no clue. I feel secure with my house, but, considering all of my jobs have been in education, healthcare, research, and non-profits, I'm not sure what employment will be available to me over the next several decades. 

It's just really weird to work so hard for so long to create a life I want to live and when I finally arrive and can take a year to just breathe and be, the institutions and infrastructures within my country, not to mention our international relationships, drastically change.

How can someone be so hopeless and exhausted but still be content and, for lack of a better word, happy? I don't know that answer either, even though I'm living it. I AM happy. I'm also sad, frustrated, and angry. I'm also at a place where I realize I can't do anything about anything. 

I've been fighting uphill battles my entire life. Here's just one. My first year of teaching was 22 years ago. I sounded the alarm then. Our kids need to learn to read and write! Our kids need more time to play! It fell on deaf ears to the people in charge. Parents didn't listen. Administrators didn't listen. And I can't fight and stay mad throughout the duration of my entire life. It will kill me.

So here I am. A Gen X woman, divorced, couldn't have kids, on her third career, still underpaid, and tired of shouting into the void about what society needs.

I'm done. But I don't count it as giving up. That would be giving in. I'm not doing that. I am not going to sit here or lie around and hate my life. I am going to find the parts I like and enjoy those things. I will continue to feel all of my feelings, but I will always come back to the three questions I've learned to ask myself.

What do I want?
What do I need?
Is this my problem to manage?

Because, eventually, after ten years of redesigning your life, you get to a point where, really, the problems aren't yours. You've addressed your problems, worked through some, accepted others, and moved on. Most of the problems are society's or other people's. Not yours.

Do your own work.

And you will be free.

a soaring phoenix found at stockcake.com