My Great Grandma Ward lived to be 100 years old. As a child I saw her as this young woman in an old body. I would watch her raking the leaves, cleaning the kitchen, knitting, etc, and be in awe of how much she could still do. As her and my mother spoke, I would stare at her. Her deep wrinkles, her goiter, her perfectly pressed clothes. She seemed unchanging from one visit to the next. The smell of her old country house, the cookie jar that was always full, the sound when I would pluck a key on the piano (which was in desperate need of tuning), all made her house feel as if it was froze in time since the last time I was there. Looking in her ice blue eyes, I would wonder if that’s what I was going to look like in 80 years. She looked tired. I would look and her hands, then my own, and wonder how hands could become so rough and wrinkled.
As an adult, I can now see this old woman as more than that simple old lady on a farm. I see her as a mother, a wife, a widow. With nothing but an 8th grade education, she married and bore 7 children. Then, my Great Grandpa passed away very early, middle aged, leaving her to raise the children on her own. She never remarried, which was very rare for a woman in that time. My mother told me as an adult, it was to protect her children. She did not want her sons to be used as farm hands, or her daughters to be abused or used. Her choice to raise her children alone, was one of the most selfless acts I can think of.
These facts about her have always been known, but never understood until the past few years of my life. Single motherhood has been the most challenging thing I’ve endured in my life. I feel that GG was with me through the last few years. Those days I would feel my body was going to quit, I imagined her up late sewing or mending. Those days I wanted to scream because I didn’t want to have grilled cheese for dinner again, I think about how she would buy 1 bunch of bananas a week as a treat. (And would hide a couple for herself so she could eat them ripe). On the days I would feel lonely and isolated from the world, I would imagine her living on the farm, with the love of her life gone, and nothing but children and chores to consume her days.
Now, because my brain thinks of 15 things at once, but I can only deliver one thought at a time, I want to address the loneliness aspect of single parenthood. I feel this topic is grossly under appreciated. I was ill prepared for how much this would influence my life, my motherhood, and my survival.
About a year after the separation, my ex husband and I were starting to talk on the phone regularly again. A few nights a week, we would stay up and tell eachother about our days. Who we saw, what we did, where we went, and any other bullshit we could think of. This was not the rekindling of our relationship. I hated him. He abandoned us. No matter the cause of the divorce, our children were lacking the necessities in life. Their mother was frazzled, exhausted, and broken to nothing. His feelings towards me, I’m sure, were equally non romantic. He had no problem telling me about his dates, and how much he was loving his single life in Vegas.
So, why the hell was I spending so much time on the phone with him? Why would I pretend we were old pals and shoot the breeze? Loneliness. I was alone and it was wearing on me. There was no one in my life to unwind to. No one that wanted to hear about dumping an entire bag of flour on the floor. Or tripping and hitting my knee. All of those nothings that happen during the day were just being flushed out of my brain every night. I never realized how much I would miss that. My days WERE boring and monotonous. Coming home and realizing there was no one who cared to hear about it, slowly made me feel my lack of worth. “I picked up all the toys and even vacuumed!” Oh wait…no one wants to hear about that. I feel accomplished….but I guess normal people get that stuff done every day. How sad is it that that is all I have for my day.
I ended it. I told him, it is unhealthy for us to use each other like that. He doesn’t get to be that for me anymore. And I can’t be that for him. I imagined my Grandmother, and how horribly alone and sad she must have felt. How strong she was, to make the choice to protect her children. That part of my Grandmother had been overlooked on my part. It was a detail in her story that lacked depth of understanding in it’s fullness.
While I know it’s tempting to find someone to help financially (it’s not shallow. Raising children on one minimum wage income is impossible), for physical interactions (yes I mean sex), or even out of sheer exhaustion (1 parent = no breaks), I believe the loneliness outweighs a lot of it. I have seen many people remarry very quickly after a divorce or death of a spouse. Never understood how they could “get over it” that quickly. Then I realized that they DIDN’T get over it. That was their problem. Coping in this new, tedious, lonely, life was too much. They needed (yes. Actually needed, not just wanted) companionship to survive.
This revelation stuck with me. Did I date? Absolutely. I knew I wanted to remarry eventually. I just knew I needed to be constantly aware of this vulnerability. I could not settle or talk myself into a relationship just so I didn’t feel alone. As a rash, impulsive person, I knew I needed to grieve the loss of my marriage in EVERY aspect before I would be able to find someone to spend my life with.
Thank you Grandma Ward. You saved me from starting a cycle of desperation and loneliness. You saved my children from becoming attached to men that would ultimately leave them. You saved my fiancé from being with a woman who was not whole as a person, and from children who would distrust him. We will not be able to ever fully grasp the strength you had, or be able to properly thank you for passing that on for generations. I love you, and aspire to obtain the wisdom your life brought you, through all my life challenges.
thatbethy 