Elizabeth
Elizabeth sat down with her tired mind and body on
the thick carpet in the master bedroom, and gazed through the
large window that overlooked historic Benefit Street. The room
was white and the carpet was the color of sand. When the real
estate agent had first taken her through the apartment, Elizabeth
noticed how safe and cozy it looked. She was reminded of her boat,
the colors were the same, and from the bow of that 26 foot haven
that belonged to her, she would look out onto the water and feel
secure. But today she was planning to give herself more than 26
feet of safe space, all that lay between the apartment and her
was the big decision. If she went through with her plan of leaving
home, could she tolerate the loneliness of it? Would fear grip
her in the night? And what about the huge mortgage payments? Sitting
on that rug with nothing but blank walls around her only seemed
to bring out more questions. She could seize this comfortable
place or go back to what was now feeling like a prison to her.
A simple yes or no would do, but she wondered if she was trying
to make the shoe fit. Could she make this work for her? She went
through some of the facts again: The only way she could grow was
to get out of the situation in which she found herself. The role
of wife, mother, and caretaker was over and she had to face that.
This was the death of an old system that had stopped working for
her. Death always demands a time of grieving and the impulse to
beg for another chance. Maybe she could be a better wife and mother,
and her family would welcome her back? No. It was over, and Elizabeth
had to face it. Now was the time to grow or go. This was to be
her toughest assignment yet--getting on with her own life. Elizabeth
knew that trying to control other people's lives, such as those
of her husband's and children's, was almost a deadlier compulsion
than her alcoholism. She had to get physically detached, and this
plan might work but not without a lot of pain and hard work. She
called upon the help of the God of her understanding, and turned
it over to him, realizing that if this move wasn't in his plan
for her, she would soon know it. But a lot of time and prayer
had been put into this decision. Elizabeth had taken some big
steps before. Her business was in its 13th year, and here she
sat looking back over all those high and low experiences. Yes,
it was scary, but what was scarier was not to move forward. She
recalled some of the past when things had been so bad that she
forgot what good health, peace and quiet were like. If she went
ahead and committed herself to the condo on Benefit Street she
would be awarding herself the gift of privacy. She would also
be able to experence the children one at a time. For so long,
when the four of them were together, she found herself a nervous
wreck, caught between trying to please or compete with them. Well,
this plan was well thought out. Elizabeth got up from the sandy
carpet, took another look around, then locked up her new home.
The decision was made.
Copyright; Ruth Mahoney
Sep-86 January 11,1987 I have avoided writing down how
tired I am. Sometimes I feel like I make too much of it, but that's
my way of not facing it. I repeat to myself that the children
are in God's hands, and I don't mind if he baby-sits for a while.
I'm tired. Last night I cried. I felt bad. I must give myself
permission to get out of the children's lives. Old patterns die
hard. Haven't had a shower in two days since the hot water's off.
Will take a cold one today if I have to. Just took that cold shower.
I'm not tired, sad, lonely, or hungry any more. Feel good.
12-Jan-87 Tomorrow is a big day. I'm closing on the purchase
of the condo and will meet the other reidents here. In a way,
a new family for me. One is never alone. I want very much to look
my best. I'll be lucky if I can take a shower. So, I understand
Thomas Wolfe when he wrote,"I am beginning to have the decent
heart of a child. I have written it almost with a child's heart".
