When Tony, my first husband, was 36, he got cancer. It was Hodgkin's Lymphoma. The "good" kind. It had been curable for several decades. He did everything right, from treatment to the best attitude in the world. Two years later, he died at home.
Hundreds of people came to his wake. All said "If there's anything I can do...." and I'm sure they meant it. Why is it then, that my two kids (HIS two kids, also), who were only 10 and 13 at the time, and I were so easily forgotten? Don't get me wrong - some people were wonderful - and still are.
But did anyone wonder what it was like to raise two kids on your own on a receptionist's salary? And why did anyone wonder why, after ten years or so, everything caught up with me? That I had mortgaged myself into a huge hole to provide for my kids?
I know many people have it far, far worse than I do. I'm not comparing. But sometimes I think if each of those people who offered help sent me $10.00, I wouldn't be in such a mess.
Wow - that's not what I intended to write. I wanted to mention my Bereavement Support Group. Going on over six years now, I have met the most incredible people. And that has been a real blessing - I have forged a closeness with people I never would have met otherwise. My best friend is a woman I met at the Teen Bereavement Camp I bribed my girls to attend (Backstreet Boys tickets were involved).
And I would do anything in the world to bring Tony back - anything. But since I don't have that power, I AM grateful for the blessings of the beautiful people I now know. And THAT'S what this post was going to be about!
Good night all!
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