Tag Archives: mourning

This Side of Crazy

20 May

I don’t mean to be a broken record, or beat a dead horse, or spin my wheels, or as all of the idioms suggest, repeat myself until my listener tires of the message; But–these past several years I have been much occupied with my familial affairs.  First caring for my son, assisting him in his recovery from surgery and all aspects of his militarily connected life, to wading through this past year of grief for myself, my husband and our daughter.  Thus my time, since about March 12, 2011, has been allocated to most things Bent!  As result, I have many friends who endearingly tell me, I am missed.

The problem is, I miss me too.

I feel as if I am in a quasi rendition of a “Where’s Waldo?” book.  Only my title reads, “Where’s Rivka?!”  I vacillate so frequently in my position on things, I hardly recognize my own opinion!  One day I’m aching to have a vacation away, then when the opportunity presents, I have no desire.  I know I love sushi, but when faced with pangs of hunger I cannot decide for what it is I crave.  I used to find a therapeutic remedy in my exploration of culinary arts, now I settle for a bowl of cereal.  I have many friends with whom I would often visit, and now I prefer solitude.  “Where’s Rivka??”  I honestly miss her!!

Not only do I want her back, I need her back.  She has work to do…she has an entire VA system to fight and reform– with veterans in need of compassionate advocacy.  She has friends she loves who were previously surviving on her sloppy seconds.  She has interests left waiting for her return.  “Where’s Rivka?”

Well folks, regardless of where she is (where I am) and whether we shall ever truly see her again, she must resume her place in life.  A year of mourning has, this past weekend, been fulfilled.  The time is upon her to gain ground and “get at it.”  I hope the next series of posts will be reflective of that attempt.  The attempt to find my place within a world that is different, and with a person who is altered–me.

**Note: This post is written with the sole purpose of exposing the melancholy within a grief stricken soul.  It is sometimes helpful for others to know that sentiments of grief manifest within the realm of crazy.  And within that state, a functioning being exists.  

 

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The Fringes

11 May

Today is the day set aside to recognize motherhood.  Mother’s Day, as it is so named.  As a mother in mourning I think most of my loved ones expected this day to be a hard one for me.  As it turns out, it is no more difficult than the everyday I make it through my sorrow and move onto the next.  As it turns out this day is most difficult for my daughter, the sister to my fallen son.  This is the day the two of them, TOGETHER, would plan and execute the details of ensuring I was without doubt of their devotion and honor.  I must say, they were quite good at it…my daughter still is.

But if the sorrow has hit anyone more than the other, today is her day.  Her brother, her partner in all things familial is missing from her equation and, for her, there is no way to avoid his absence this day.

For me–no matter where my children are I am still a mother.  Whether I can be with them or not, on this particular day, I am still a mother.  And in being a mother, my society honors me–just look at all the store sales happening this weekend in honor of this day.  Granted, being showered with blessings from my own children is not comparable on the same scale as saving a few bucks–it trumps the monetary gain tremendously!  But point being, there are no guarantees of being with ones children on this particular day and yet as a mother I still have opportunity to be acknowledged.  Not so for the sister, left hanging out on the fringes because the obvious position of the mourning mother obfuscates the internal bleeding of the sibling.  Of course I am receiving text messages, emails and calls reflecting supportive thoughts for me on this day, but she is not.

And now she is left to navigate the sentimentality of maternal love while being barraged with sorrow.  Her quandary’s resemble something like this:  Does she show her mother her angst and risk causing burden to her on what she is accustomed to believing is a “special day for her mom?”  How is she to push through the vacancy left by her dearly departed when this day keeps shoving her loss in every step of her path?

To add insult to injury, the death of our beloved Cole will make it’s first anniversary mark this coming week.  May 17, 2013 we received the dreaded news.

Today my husband is somewhat on the fringes as well.  He has lost his mom a few years ago and his grandmother shortly afterward, both of whom were two of his biggest fans.  He is quite without a large portion of his extended family, and yet today he is supposed to do two things, honor his own mother and honor his wife, the mother of his children.  Now he, too, is stuck with a day that serves as a great reminder to the many losses he is suffering.

My sister, Auntie to my children, is also the overlooked mourner.  The sufferer on the fringe who sits in the shadow of her sisters pain.

This is a tough day, to be sure.  But today, as a mother, I honor those who are not privileged to have a day which recognizes them in the manner that Mother’s Day recognizes me–in my mothering and in my loss.  My heart goes out to you, the sister, the aunt, the grandmother, the friend, the husband–my soul loves you.

Today, with this post, I honor Esther Bent, Brian Bent and Leah Smith–

Happy Mother’s Day!

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the Queen Mother

18 Apr

For the majority (if not all) of my adult life, when asked the question(s), “What do you do?” Or, “What is your title?”  My answer has remained the same, “I am a mom and a wife.”  This response comes as result of what I have found to be most fulfilling for me.  Ironically, what my parents considered to be an insignificant station in life, has been my most joyful experience.  In fact, when I became engaged to my, now husband, my father was terrified that I would be “stuck in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant!”  It was not a path encouraged, to be sure.  And truly I had no intentions of beginning my life into motherhood as early as I did, though am grateful Providence crowned me “mom” at a young age.  And so despite my upbringing having given me a different impression, I quickly discovered for me, motherhood was in and of itself my best reward.

I found myself, through the years, speaking to my earthly father (though he departed quickly to Heaven just one month before my son was born) out-loud, “Dad, you were wrong.  I am not ‘stuck’ in the kitchen.  The kitchen is my most favorite laboratory, and I am grateful to be here!”  Now pregnancy, that is another story altogether.  I seem to be allergic to pregnancy for I remained very ill until childbirth, with complications requiring bed-rest beginning at 19 weeks.  And though prior to ever having conceived I had hoped to have my ‘quiver very full’ with little blessings, my two pregnancies were quite enough–hands down!

So G-d blessed Brian and I with two lovely children.  Pains in the neck, at times, but genuinely enjoyable people.  Nice people, funny and quirky people.  Adventurous little humans, inquisitive, smart, engaging, wise, free spirited and loving.  And so being the mother of two was title sufficient for me.  Being a unit of 4, bliss–fun and full of abundance.

Which brings me to my present difficulty–relinquishing the crown.  I have been a mother of two for more years than not.  My experiences in life viewed through the lens of having two children–illnesses, education, relationships, sports, arts–the list goes on!  And now that I am down one, with the loss of my son, I still do not know how to navigate conversation or situations without wearing the crown most familiar.  Yet my heart is so achingly sorrowful that I wish not to touch upon the subject of our familial loss, though how can I avoid it?  But avoid it I must.

My writing has slowed down this past year, as has my sociability–or ability to casually converse.  My slowdown is due to fact I am keeping fast paced in the land of distractions.  That is correct, down time and thoughtful contemplation is not for me, not right now.  I use work, I use the comedy radio station, I use solitaire, I use the present, I live in the moment and I use music from my own childhood which connects me only to pre-children Rivka.  If not well versed at letting go my station, I am very keen at keeping distracted.

Do you have children? Yes, I have two.  How old?  My son 23 and my daughter 18 (yes, I’ve allowed Cole to age).  Oh, are they in school?  My son is a Marine and my daughter will transfer to a university in the fall.–Now here is where strategy, BentRivka style is implemented—  

I always lead with my son’s information and follow with my daughter’s so I may distract my present company by weighting her circumstance more heavily, which allows for the perfect transition to the general topic of education/academia.  Voilà, the conversation moves from the personal to the general.  And hopefully NEVER circles back to the subject of my son.

You see, I can’t.  I am still the wearer of the crown.  I am still queen of my castle and I remain ever devoted to my station.  I will go down with my ship and I will not abdicate the throne.  Sadly, I don’t know how.  And every time I try to wrap my mind around the possibility, the disbelief of my new reality envelops and its well of sorrow too profound to draw from.  Engage distraction #1…etc.  Aaaah, the sweet smell of survival!

So being my literary well is presently lacking, I invite you to a little piece written while in the land of the living, back in December 2012.  It was during a time of difficulty, to be sure, though definitely not a time of distractions.  Bon appétit!

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