In recent weeks I've been reminded deeply of the very strong power that community can provide, and wanted to use the emotions of the moment to reiterate to Choice Moms the value of extending your networks as head of a household. Including the sometimes isolating time at home with a newborn.
My mother's father died when she was 9, and her brother was 6. My grandmother was a pretty woman who had no particular ambitions other than to raise her family, but she sent her kids to relatives for a year, went through cosmetology school in the big city, and opened up her own beauty shop in their small hometown until after her kids were grown. She had loyal customers, who undoubtedly also understood how hard she was working to keep things together for her kids. She purposely decided not to remarry until her kids were grown.
More than 60 years later, earlier this year, my mom's 6-foot-1 brother had a dizzy spell, fell in his bathroom, broke his neck, and became a quadriplegic. He spent a month in ICU, fighting off pneumonia and other things, before being moved elsewhere for therapy. The medical bills are, of course, huge, and he is not a wealthy man.
Former neighbors helped the three kids launch a spaghetti dinner and $1-per-ticket raffle fundraiser. Dozens of people offered wonderful donations for the raffle, including new iPods and digital camera. An estimated 300 people showed up on a Saturday afternoon to buy a $10 plate of spaghetti (one man paid $200 for his), with the food and hall donated by two of my uncle's American Legion buddies. In all, the afternoon raised $11,000.
My uncle is not a "special" man. He has always been a loyal dad, who tried to make ends meet in simple ways. He loves to talk, enjoyed his time at the American Legion, and continued to work past retirement age, ironically, driving disabled people in a van. He tried to visit his mother every Sunday in the nursing home.
My uncle was vaulted into a special place in his community once he and his family needed support. Attendees at the fundraiser included a grizzled man from the Legion who said he missed seeing my uncle at the bar, a woman who had met him briefly in conversation shortly before his fall and marveled at how open and friendly he was, the grandson of a long-time friend, members of their church, and so many more.
Finding community, who will freely offer support when we need it, can be found in the simplest of ways. But we have to be out of the house, often apart from our parental role, in order to be found and to find.
Some of that same extended network was at work a few weeks later for the family, when my 96-year-old grandmother died. Although all of her many cousins, her four sisters, and all but one of her friends had died, it was the next generation that stood together for the family at the burial site in her hometown, decades after she and my mother (and my uncle) had left. My grandmother had maintained contact with families that my mother had barely known when she was growing up. And it was those families that stood with her at the cemetery to help her say goodbye.
As I wrote in the "Choosing Single Motherhood" book several years ago, I had become isolated in my professional life in New York City. It's not until I shook off the work cloak a bit after my daughter was born that I reprioritized, relocated, and reinvested in a community life that now includes the Unitarian Universalist church, school parents, Choice Moms, old high school friends, and even new families.
I still have a long way to go to feel as secure in my community as I'd like -- to feel reassured that if something even closer to home happened, my kids would have the support and connections they need. But it's something I will always keep my eyes open for, especially now that I've been reminded of how vital it is to be surprised and touched by the kindness of others.
Mikki
Birthday Magic
12 years ago
