The S Word…..and other ponderings.

  It is clearly in my DNA.  My mom always said she knew it when on a family trip to the National Zoo-I perched on my dad’s shoulders and  shouted out with all my two year old glee, “Zebra pee-pee! Zebra pee-pee!” ,when everyone else was looking away in embarrassment.  I see what I see and I say what I say.  This has always been the way.  This talent comes with it’s own set of challenges-some I have fine tuned and some I have given up on trying to fine tune.Ever.

I see what I see and I say what I say. This means, and has meant for all my life- should the elephant be in the room- by gosh, not only will I point it out, I will invite the darn pachyderm to tea.

Let’s chat, shall we?

I am especially sensitive to elephants of the social justice kind- endangered indeed. Growing up in the 60’s in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, there was always something to see and something to say about it-whatever it was.  You have to understand I am the daughter of a father who taught the first human sexuality course at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a mother who was head nurse of the psychiatric unit at Memorial Hospital. Is it any wonder I went into show business and psychotherapy? We always had interesting people showing up at the house, and it was also the nature of the times.  Hippies, Jesus Freaks and protests. And lots and lots of macrame.  There I was smack dab in the middle of elephants of all kinds.  My little mind had an infusion of real life.  I was destined to sit down with elephants and cuss and discuss the ways and means of humanity. And so it has been.

Not a cake walk.  Or an elephant walk either.  Cue music.

Sometimes, I forgot people did not want to see the elephant-much less talk about it.  I inadvertently hurt feelings and bruised egos. I lost friends.  Got into a tangle a few times.  Got in the way of the elephant.  This is the part I was able to fine tune.  I came to understand what I see and what I say will not always be the vision and the path of others.  Sometimes, the elephant stays in the room a long, long time-leaving peanut shells and shit everywhere.  I stopped cleaning up after it-and went on about seeing what I see. I saw the destruction of secrets. I got real.  I have stayed real.  Shit and all. Here are some recent elephants in my own living room. Feel free to turn back now.  I will not be offended.

The “S” word.  My husband committed suicide on a beautiful September evening 7 months ago. That was the single most horrific day in my life and every thing in every cell of my body changed. I have not cowered from that cold hard s word that lingers in my soul every second of every day.  There is no shame.  There is no stigma.  Here me now:  Talk about this word. Suicide.  Say it outloud. Talk about about the consequences and carnage that go along with this word.  Talk about the endless supply of love that will never be enough for any loved one that chooses this.  It is no one’s fault.It is not selfish. Unless, of course, that particular elephant stays hidden in the room-in the darkest of rooms.

The “widow”.  I became this without wanting this. There it was and there it has been.  On every form.  In almost every conversation.  I got so sick of hearing that word-I decided it sounded a lot like “wisdom”– and this is something that has gotten me though.  The wisdom of life.  The wise elephant-the older elephant who sees that life is not always as we wish. So we had better deal with what is.

The “L” word.  This has been a tough one.  Coming to terms with this word hit me in the winter of my discontent.  In the dead of winter loneliness took hold with a vengeance.  I have just now started to say the word-simply because I could not bear to see it-much less say it.  If grief is an ache of the soul( and it is) then loneliness is it’s traveling companion that sinks way deep in the heart ( and it does).  I miss the man who knew me better than anyone-who reminded me daily for 18 years how much he loved me and our daughter.  Who found ways to see the art of the everyday- who struggled with the human condition and a sensitive, traumatized soul.  We loved each other in the most real of ways:  in the imperfection of each other-in the whole of being human.  This kind of loneliness is deeper than “having sex”-which goes right out the window- it is missing that part of me that will never be the same.  It is coming to terms with the fear of who I am now and who I am to be from this point forward.  It is holding onto the joy in the most trying of times.  It is shoveling snow and stacking wood.  It is talking to yourself as a daily reminder you will get through this.  You will find the spring.

The “M” word.  Motherhood.  The sweet blessing in the midst of all the chaos is being the mother to a precious child and putting that above anything and all things.  It is understanding in the stark of bright, bright light what my own mother knew.  Our children are the deepest of love and the biggest of heartaches. If ever I was fierce for her protection and discovery of what it is to be in this world- I am now more so and I dare anyone to challenge me on this. It is for her, my daughter the pieces fall together in a way that may not be the standard-but will always be the truest of ways.  And you thought I was going to say menopause?!

The “G”word.  You want to know the secret?  The way?  The path?  The salvation?  Gratitude.  Grab hold of this word now and hold onto it forever.  It is the elephant you always want in the room-regardless of what the elephant brings.  Have gratitude.  Ask that elephant for help. For guidance.  For the gift.  Ask to be the path-not only walk it.  This particular elephant has been with me for a long, long time-and until I saw it for what it was I could not see what I see and say what I say.  And this has made all the difference.