...random thoughts, opinions and secrets on children... aging... cooking... crafts... nature...divorce...second chances...
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~Copyright 2017. Hootie~

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Did I miss the asterisk?

For the past few years, I have been in graduate school.  I totally enjoy the company of my cohort, but honestly, they are young are really do not understand where I am in my life.  When I look at most of them, I see where my own children will be in a few years time.  I feel like the class mom.  

Each week I sit here and pray for god to help me move forward in my life.   

I have friends.

Most are married.  It's hard to go out with my friends for dinner or a glass of wine and not feel sad for myself, because 1) I know they are going home to someone who loves and respects them when we are done for the evening, and 2) I wonder what is wrong with me...when I know deep in my soul that absolutely nothing IS wrong with me.  Still, I am alone.

In June of 2013, I started on a path to remember who I was.  I was seeking me.  For years I have put my wants, needs and desires on a back burner.  I really truly didn't know who I was any more.  I have always felt that my place in this world was to make everyone else happy.  I have discovered there is a strong women in my skin.  She is cute, she is happy, she is smart (very smart in fact), handy, clever, brave, creative, resourceful, confident, compassionate, and loving.  She loves nature and animals.  She enjoys cooking and sharing her talents in the kitchen with others.  She enjoys laughing, romantic comedies, classical music and upbeat popular music.  But she is still human and she is lonely at times. 

Seeking comfort in my life, I turned back to my religion.  To me there is good and bad in all organized religions, I don't claim to know what's best, but I do know what I grew up with and that there is a sense of comfort in returning to ones roots.  I raised my children in a christian church because I felt they needed religion in their lives.  We attended my husband's church, because I knew he would never embrace my church.  I felt it was better to raise our children together in a church than to try to go it alone.  In the end, I realize he never was much support.  I still did it mostly alone.  Reflecting back I realize there was that strong woman. She was there the whole time, I had just failed to acknowledge her.  Grown kids, husband who has moved on, I went back to my Catholic roots.

I am not an in-you-face religious person, but I needed to know that God still loved me.  It took a few months of forcing myself to attend church weekly before I fell back into the comfort zone of knowing what I was doing once again.  I had been away from the Catholic church for about 30 years and a few things had changed.  I was amazed at how quickly the prayers came back to me, and how much I had missed saying them.  I'm still not 100% comfortable with my faith; honestly, I'm thinking I won't ever be.  I believe God and I can communicate, and that I don't necessarily need a middle man...sorry to my priests.  They are nice guys, but...they haven't been married.  I am reminded that man made up the rules in this, and most religions.  Case in point, I made an appointment and went to talk to a priest about my situation.  Basically, he told me he could tell I still loved my husband and wasn't seeking anyone else.  He said he had faith that I should just try harder and things would work out.  (head shaking)

In being lonely, I realize I need a new set of friends.  I need people closer to my age.  People who can maybe understand what I am experiencing.  Divorce is in my future.  I need to know there are people who accept me.  I noticed a small announcement in our church bulletin.  "Come join the 50+ group.  Being a dish to share and meet in the meeting room below church."  I got my brave on and went.

I guess I missed the asterisk.

It was really for married couples, but they didn't say that.  I don't think anyone there really understood how much bravery I had to munster up to attend that potluck.  One of the first things I was asked was by the deacon, "Where is your husband?"  Umm.  It was at that moment that I truly realized, I am alone in my religion.  It's really just God and me on this religious ride.  I need to come to terms with that.  It was hard to attend church the next morning and see the deacon on the alter.  I felt his gaze as he saw me.  I felt his judgement as he held the chalice of wine for me.

Somedays are really, really hard.

If anyone has advice on how someone who is 50 years old can go out and meet new friends...please feel free to email me and share your thoughts!


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