Staying Afloat

I have been working very hard the past few months to get my life back on track. These are terrible times we live in economically, personally and globally. Yesterday there was an orchestrated terrorist attack on 6 separate areas in Paris, France. What is this world coming to? Living through so much grief, betrayal and pain has undoubtedly made me stronger than ever. I am only human, like everyone else. But sometimes I feel I've reached a point of numbness. I'm finding it hard to trust many people. I am unwilling to put up with anyone's expectations or judgments of me and my life. I have, for too many years now, put others needs, feelings, and expectations above my own. I am fiercely dedicated to my children, especially my 3 sons. We still live together and it is very cramped and we get on each others' nerves. But we know that we have to stick together and work hard to improve our situation. I do feel confident that we are on the cusp of better days. Everyone is working and basically healthy. I feel it would benefit us to go to group counseling to try to deal with all the feelings of anger, betrayal and the damage it's done to each of us. But we're not ready yet. I wish I could punch my husband in the face for the damage he has done to his sons. It is still incomprehensible to me how he could just walk away from them after all he put them through after all they did for him. He has caused them mental trauma that will not soon be forgotten or forgiven, if ever. I am grateful that my oldest, my daughter, has lived in another state the entire time this has gone on. She is luckier than us. I miss my life and my family. Everything has been shattered and just trying to piece our lives back together a teensy bit at a time is a daily struggle. Just last month my father died. He had been in very poor health for many years. Dementia was the thief that robbed him of himself and his health. The last couple of years he had to undergo dialysis 3 days per week, too. He was in a local nursing home, but I couldn't bring myself to go see him in his last months. Actually, the last time I visited him was right after my sister Teri died in 2013. My brother Robert, who passed away in 2014, was in from California. So I took him for a visit with Dad. It was beautiful, sad, poignant and heart-wrenching. Afterwards I knew I would not step foot in that place again. And I didn't. When I heard that my father passed I was so happy that he had been released from his living hell. If he didn't have dementia he would not have wanted to live like that. It was just torture. He was 86 years old. He was reunited with my mother, who died the day I was born 54 years ago. So I continue to navigate through this grief that began in September 2013 with Teri dying, continuing on to August 2014 with Robert dying, and now full circle in October 2015 with my Dad dying. All the while trying to wade through a life ravaged by my husband of 31 years abandoning us, bankruptcy, losing our home, health problems, financial woes, and trying to remain a good, strong decent mother. I don't falter when it comes to my children. My hope is that each of my sons will be able to stand on their own two feet without my constant support. But right now, we're just trying to keep our heads above water. Their father was weak and abandoned me and them. I won't, and they know it. The next time I write I hope to have stories of happiness, new milestones, and success for each of us. I know it's out there.