Crossing Paths

A few weeks ago I had a patient in her mid 70's, quite soft spoken with gentle eyes and a gracious smile. I completed my nursing assessment as she spoke about the great grandson that just left her room. Concentrating on the crumpled Kleenex in her hand, she quietly said he was there only to get money for pills. I sat at the foot of her bed as she spoke of the situation. I knew what she was feeling. I knew the fear of watching someone in the bowels of pill addiction. I knew the pain it inflicted on a family. The hopelessness. The frustration. Even the disgust. She spoke for several minutes, careful to concentrate on the tissue's wrinkles I decided to share a bit of my experiences with my ex-husband. Issues I still struggle with today. She looked up at me and said, "We just can't save them, can we?" I sympathetically agreed and she tearfully asked I not let her great-grandson re-enter. I promised.

For the next 45 minutes, I listened intently as she spoke of her tumultuous first marriage. I learned how she freed herself and four children from the alcoholic wrath of their philandering father. I learned how she worked various and multiple jobs to make it; how this petite, gentle woman chased her ex-husband down the street carrying the knife she was peeling potatoes with when he plucked their youngest son out of the yard. She spoke of the financial and emotional struggle just to wake up and "pretend happy" everyday. This happened some 50 years ago and yet, the sadness in her eyes would seem as if it were just yesterday. I told her a bit more about my struggle.... with my ex-husband, my children, with men in my life, with trusting anyone. She smiled softly, nodding ever so slightly each time reassuring she understood all too well. As we sat there a little teary eyed, I attempted to lighten the mood. Speaking in a happier tone I asked, "When you remarried, did this man come along and just sweep you off your feet?" I was secretly hoping for the "happily every after" ending I don't believe in but wish for more than anything. Chuckling lightly, she said he is 14 years her senior, and had a stable, well paying job in construction when they met and married a few years after her divorce. She talked how he has been a wonderful father to her children. They moved out of the city and built a large home on several acres.With a reminscent look, she added he came along when she didn't know what to do next and he literally saved them.

What she shared next has just stuck with me. It's filled the space when my mind wanders, when I'm driving down the road, or even scrubbing the sink. It's made me question the "refuse to settle" belief I've held for the past 5 years. Looking up from her hands clutching the now shredded tissue, her soft eyes filled with an almost apologetic look she said, "I never loved him like you're supposed to love a man. Like you're supposed to love your husband. I don't trust him, even now after all these years and he has never crossed me. Not even once. I never had "those" feelings for him. But my kids.......  my kids love him still to this day more than I could have ever hoped. He was exactly what they needed. And boy does he love them." Fully smiling now she said, "He's in his 90s now and they drive him all over the place. They don't miss any of his doctor's appointments. They love him and he loves them as if they've always belonged together. I would do it all again exactly the same for them." Pausing she quietly added, " But I wouldn't do it again for me. It's not all about us, now is it?"

I ponder her inner thoughts. Is this what happens when you've been scarred or jaded from life? Is this what it comes down to? You choose what your children need versus what you want? You can't have both? It sure feels that way. I find the man that would be a good, solid father figure for them to rely on ends up being a man I can care about but never truly love. Have I been selfish all this time, refusing to settle for anything less than that truly, madly, deeply feeling for myself but sacrificing stability for them? The sadness in her eyes tells me it can't be the right answer, but the glowing happiness her face beamed when speaking of her children and their "father" tells me it is somewhere in the answer. She did not come to this decision lightly. I need to think about specific choices I make and if it will benefit both me and the kids. The fact is, for women with children all on their own, it's never just about us. It's not about holding out for that fairy tale. I've prided myself on "making it" just me and my kids. The way I get by in life is more than acceptable but the men I spend my time with and keep completely separate from my children, deprives them of a very important relationship. A relationship I can't make up for. A relationship they need. This petite little woman chose her children's happiness and a stable life over her own butterflies. Feelings which fade somewhat as time goes by. While a part of me thinks I can still have it ALL, the reality is after 5 years I have yet to find it quite possibly because it does not exist. I want my kids to have the next 50 or so years with a good man in their life to love as a father and that will love them as his children. I may be lost at times, but I do know without a doubt, I want THAT for them. I am so thankful this insightful little woman and I crossed paths. I can't help but think there was a greater reason. Maybe the message isn't about "settling" but readjusting what WE need.    I do know the most private thoughts she shared have lingered in my head for weeks now and I intend to learn from her life as well.


Interestingly enough, the children's biological father never straightened up and eventually "fell out" of their life. When he passed, the man's wife called the now adult children asking them to pay his burial expense as they had nothing. They obliged only out of respect that they were born from him as well. It saddens me to know that was their final interaction with him. I fear a similar path for my own children...  I am, however, certain their life was much richer and happier with their one true dad.