Being A Single Mom In a Time When It Takes A Village

Earlier today I wrote about Matthew's first tee ball game and how fun it was. But I also mentioned in that blog how for the last couple of weeks I've been a little on the blue side. It's been a rough few weeks. Just life, I guess - and I feel like writing about it now.

Over spring break I took Matthew down to visit with his dad. We'd planned to meet at our usual meeting spot and they would have him from Wednesday through Easter Sunday. I was excited about having a day or two to myself to do whatever I wanted to, eat in a restaurant that doesn't have a sliding board as a centerpiece or spend an evening with grown up friends without the kids in tow. I wanted to be able to go to bed without worrying about homework or if school clothes were ready for the next day. Just all about me for the next few days! When I dropped him off I was ok. By the time I got back home I felt like I'd forgotten something - like that feeling you get when you can't remember if you locked the front door. I did what I wanted to do - had lunch with a friend, a night out with the girls, got a bunch of errands done with minimal effort, etc. But I was missing something. And the house was so, so quiet without him. And I was lonely. It's been nothing but Matthew and me since he was about 1 so it's a big transition when he's not around. It's almost like living with a piece of your heart missing. He had a great time with his dad and I was glad about it but I was so happy to get him back home!

Then, there was another death in my family - one in a long line of family losses. This time it was my uncle, my mom's brother-in-law and an all around good guy who worked through his chemotherapy and at age 78 was working 2 weeks before he died. My extended family used to be huge and we all did everything together. All the summer beach trips, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, mountain picnics were packed full of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas, brothers and sisters, even friends of cousins were like family. So common to be around lots of family, even every single weekend my mom and I went down to Spartanburg to my aunts house just to spend the night with her and my cousins. None of that exists anymore and now the only time we're all in the same room is at funerals. We don't even have Christmas dinner together. At Doug's funeral I sat there looking around at how many of us are not around anymore - and I wondered who was next. Which one of my dwindling little family would we gather for the next time. And then I thought about my dad and my brother and how much I missed them both and the utter sadness I still feel about losing them both. And I thought about my dearest friend Mark and how much I wished I could just call him to let him know about Doug. And I was sad for Matthew - who'll never know what it's like to be a part of a big, loving family.

Matthew had never been to a funeral before and I was proud of him for the way he behaved but I'm not so sure he knew everything that was going on. In fact when it was over he said - loud enough for everyone to hear him - "I love funerals"! He may have had a nice time but something must have stuck with him. A few days later I got sick with allergies and a cold and I lost my voice completely. I could move my mouth and give it the old college try but not much sound came out. More like a crackled, breathless wheeze was all. I was out in the yard trying to get Matt home from the neighbors house one day last week. I couldn't vocalize loud enough so I just started clapping my hands and waving a lot. I finally caught his attention and he headed home with a worried look on his face. He said "Mom, what's the matter?" And I strained to whisper, "Nothing honey, Mama's just lost her voice." And he threw his arms around me and started crying saying, "I don't want you to die!! Who's going to take care of me if you die?" God bless him for worrying about me like that - he didn't believe that I wasn't dying for the next several days it took me to get my voice back. Every time he saw me he would ask me if my voice was back yet and if I was going to be ok. Bless him.

Meanwhile, I was very sick for a few days - and had to keep working. There's no rest for the single mom and if I miss one day of work I have trouble getting all the bills paid on time. I was sick and tired and then I had to take Matthew to his tee ball practice. It was the first practice I'd gotten to go to - since mom would take him on the Saturday practices while I was working. I was not feeling well at all and my voice was gone but I was excited to go. And then a real sadness came over me. Not sadness for me but sadness for my boy. There were moms and dads out at the ball field watching their little ones learn the game. There were people out there in folding chairs, sharing dinner, taking pictures. There was a sense of family and a feeling of community - friends and neighbors chatting, kids knew each other and babies toddling around in the grass. And then there was me. I sat there alone. No one talked to me, no one pulled for my kid but me, no one sat up in their chair when Mattie got up to bat. I couldn't even yell out some general encouragement because of my missing voice. And I was so sad for him. My dad would have been there. My brother would have been there for him. Even my friend Mark would have come but they were all gone. Mom would have come but she was under the weather that day. It was just me and I hoped I was enough for him. Not just on the bleachers at ball practice but for his life. I'm his "family" and it wasn't going to be like it was when I was a kid - when even the aunts and uncles would come out to support me. Somebody needs to pull for that kid. What if I did die from Laryngitis? Who would pull for him on a Thursday evening at baseball practice?

And that brings me up to yesterday (and the blog I posted earlier today) and what a wonderful day I had at the tee ball game. I can see what a good boy he is and I can see the good I'm doing in him. And I know that Matthew being a part of a team means the whole team pulls for him. Happily my voice is also back and I was able to yell out his name in support of him! I worry about Matthew and my ablility to raise him alone in a time when it "takes a village". I couldn't ask for a better ex hub in his dad - he does what he can considering we're 5 hours apart and my mom is really an extention of me. But day in and day out though, it's just me and what a responsibility that is. I just hope I'm getting it right.