I have no idea why it hits me today, why there are days like this that I cannot stop the tears from flowing. Maybe it is because I'm tired. Maybe.
But today I feel like the future is dark and that it will always be like that.
Why oh why did my mom and my husband have to die within a week from each other? Both promised me they would be there for me if the end of the other came near. But when it happened they were almost in the same place, dieing and not aware of my pain.
I carried it all on my shoulders, the whole damn funeral arrangements for my husband, telling my children that both dad and grandma are not here, all that horrible paperwork.
I know, I know, it's in the past. More than 4 years ago already. I should have moved on by now. But some days memories just flood my brain, and it makes it hard to think positive. Then I suddenly have flash backs from the funeral, nobody offering me a ride, it was me driving the kids to their dad's funeral. Feeling so misunderstood, because at that day (and many days, weeks, months after that) I was in pure survival mode, in a daze without tears. Is that maybe why I'm crying now? To make up for that?
Punishment?
There are just days that life seems overwhelming, when it's hard to take care of three teenagers by myself. When it's hard to have nobody to hug me and tell me that tomorrow is another day.
Thanks My Blog, for letting me vent again. It's just a cry in the dark, and it will pass.
Back to laundry.
Tanja
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Friday, July 3, 2009
Dating a Dutch Woman
I just had an interesting chat with an American man who has lived in Holland, for about as long as I have lived in America. He works there for an American company, and was looking around for a date on an American dating site, where we met.
The site is designed for plus size ladies and their admirers, and about 95% of the people on there are Americans. So I thought it was interesting I found a profile of a man in Holland, with a picture of him in Sail Amsterdam on his page. I made a joke, "hey I was there too but didn't meet you there :-)"
That's how we started chatting.
Like I said, he has lived there for about 10 years, thinks Holland is a wonderful country, but he still feels very much like a stranger there. He had some interesting observations about how rigid many Dutch are, and opinionated. He compared it with life in America, which is according to him more relaxed, more easy going. I can agree with that.
I asked him if he had trouble finding a plus size date there overseas, and he laughed. Yup, he wasn't that charmed by the Dutch skinny ladies, that's why he was looking at that site. He had had a relationship with a Dutch woman for 4 years, but it didn't work out. Now he was kind of scared to date a blonde one again.
He asked me how it was possible I had not found a nice guy yet. And I said, I don't know, maybe I'm too picky? Oh yes he answered, I can see that. You Dutch women are all so strong, educated, emancipated, and you only go for the best, otherwise you believe you are better off on your own. You all want someone equally successful, educated and secure. It's not always easy for a man to date a Dutch woman.
Hmm.... think that might be it? Interesting. Because I also had some discussions here with black women, who suffer from the strong black women syndrome and are trying to live up to that. As I heard from some black men that they do not want to date an American black woman anymore, as they are too strong.
So what is the difference between a strong black woman and a strong Dutch woman? For both of us it is hard to find a date, and to keep a date. For both of us it's hard to prove that we are sweet too, that we are not that strong as you think we are. We need love and protection, but yes, you have to be special to break that wall down.
Just some late night thoughts again :-)
Tanja
The site is designed for plus size ladies and their admirers, and about 95% of the people on there are Americans. So I thought it was interesting I found a profile of a man in Holland, with a picture of him in Sail Amsterdam on his page. I made a joke, "hey I was there too but didn't meet you there :-)"
That's how we started chatting.
Like I said, he has lived there for about 10 years, thinks Holland is a wonderful country, but he still feels very much like a stranger there. He had some interesting observations about how rigid many Dutch are, and opinionated. He compared it with life in America, which is according to him more relaxed, more easy going. I can agree with that.
I asked him if he had trouble finding a plus size date there overseas, and he laughed. Yup, he wasn't that charmed by the Dutch skinny ladies, that's why he was looking at that site. He had had a relationship with a Dutch woman for 4 years, but it didn't work out. Now he was kind of scared to date a blonde one again.
He asked me how it was possible I had not found a nice guy yet. And I said, I don't know, maybe I'm too picky? Oh yes he answered, I can see that. You Dutch women are all so strong, educated, emancipated, and you only go for the best, otherwise you believe you are better off on your own. You all want someone equally successful, educated and secure. It's not always easy for a man to date a Dutch woman.
Hmm.... think that might be it? Interesting. Because I also had some discussions here with black women, who suffer from the strong black women syndrome and are trying to live up to that. As I heard from some black men that they do not want to date an American black woman anymore, as they are too strong.
So what is the difference between a strong black woman and a strong Dutch woman? For both of us it is hard to find a date, and to keep a date. For both of us it's hard to prove that we are sweet too, that we are not that strong as you think we are. We need love and protection, but yes, you have to be special to break that wall down.
Just some late night thoughts again :-)
Tanja
Ronald McDonald House
Since a few weeks I joined Club Agave, a group I met through one of the widows. Although I have very little in common with the Parrotheads and do not like Jimmy Buffett much, I was very impressed by the members of this group. They are so real, so welcoming, so heart warming, how could I stay away from them?
And when I read about all their charity activities I decided to join.
Last Sunday was my first contribution to an activity, cooking dinner at the Ronald MacDonald House in Phoenix. About 15 of us got together at the house, with our groceries, and made dinner for about 45 people. I have to say it looked all yummie and it wasn't an easy task to serve ice cream with toppings and not eat all the M&M's myself. But we did it, and we also filled the fridges with many left overs for lunch for the next day.
Just as important as the food was the interaction with the people who live in the house at that moment. Their stories, their lives, their way of coping with the illness of a loved one. It is humbling, it lets you know how upsetting and unsettling life can be. Yes I do find it hard to see a child with a bald head from chemo, and to see the worried look in the eyes of the mom. But I am not running away from the confrontation, I try to learn from it.
Or what about that young couple, with their tiny, tiny baby in the hospital? So far away from home, far away from their support system? It breaks my heart.
I hope our meal and company was a little ray of sunshine for them that day.
I was very impressed by how well organized the House is. I took the time to talk to the person at the front desk and learned how much in the House is done and provided by volunteers, who come and help out every day of the week.
The kitchen was spotless, and there was plenty of fridges, dishwashers, silverware, pots and pans, for the inhabitants to use. The main fridge provides food for everyone whenever they are hungry. Cabinets were stocked with herbs and spices, sugar and so much more.
There were toys for the kids, a library for the adults, and it all looked fresh and cheery.
Just a post to make myself aware that there are good people in this world, who make good things happen. Also there are others suffering, and what we do is just a drop in an empty bucket.
Tanja
And when I read about all their charity activities I decided to join.
Last Sunday was my first contribution to an activity, cooking dinner at the Ronald MacDonald House in Phoenix. About 15 of us got together at the house, with our groceries, and made dinner for about 45 people. I have to say it looked all yummie and it wasn't an easy task to serve ice cream with toppings and not eat all the M&M's myself. But we did it, and we also filled the fridges with many left overs for lunch for the next day.
Just as important as the food was the interaction with the people who live in the house at that moment. Their stories, their lives, their way of coping with the illness of a loved one. It is humbling, it lets you know how upsetting and unsettling life can be. Yes I do find it hard to see a child with a bald head from chemo, and to see the worried look in the eyes of the mom. But I am not running away from the confrontation, I try to learn from it.
Or what about that young couple, with their tiny, tiny baby in the hospital? So far away from home, far away from their support system? It breaks my heart.
I hope our meal and company was a little ray of sunshine for them that day.
I was very impressed by how well organized the House is. I took the time to talk to the person at the front desk and learned how much in the House is done and provided by volunteers, who come and help out every day of the week.
The kitchen was spotless, and there was plenty of fridges, dishwashers, silverware, pots and pans, for the inhabitants to use. The main fridge provides food for everyone whenever they are hungry. Cabinets were stocked with herbs and spices, sugar and so much more.
There were toys for the kids, a library for the adults, and it all looked fresh and cheery.
Just a post to make myself aware that there are good people in this world, who make good things happen. Also there are others suffering, and what we do is just a drop in an empty bucket.
Tanja
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Dance Therapy
On CNN I found an article about a prison in Cebu, Philipines, where they use dance as a means to keep prisoners fit and occupied. It is in the news today because they danced to the music of Michael Jackson's Thriller as a tribute to the King of Pop. But looking around on Youtube I found quite a few other videos of the prisoners dancing to various tones. It is quite amazing to see how such a big group is moving as one to the music of modern pop artists.
According to the prison director it gives the prisoners a renewed sense of worth and confidence, breaking them of their violent ways. He is convinced his prison is a model for prison authorities everywhere, an example of how to crack the plague of violent prison gangs.
I find this quite amazing. I know it is not volutairy for the inmates to dance, they are forced to it, sometimes even up to 5 hours a day. But isn't it so much better than sitting behind bars doing nothing? Doesn't this give a sense of spiritual freedom too? I don't know, just questions, and I wish I could ask the prisoners about their thoughts on this.
Watching the videos, I wonder how we can use dance in so many other ways, like for school aged children. What about the ADHD children, who have a hard time sitting still all day long, listening and writing. Wouldn't this be a great outlet to get them going and moving for a bit, while still using concentration skills and practising memory?
What about using dance therapy in hospitals? Of course to everyone's ability, maybe even just moving the arms in a bed, but I can see how it could help taking people's mind off of their illness for a bit.
There are so many places where dance therapy could be used, I'll try to read some more about it!
Tanja
According to the prison director it gives the prisoners a renewed sense of worth and confidence, breaking them of their violent ways. He is convinced his prison is a model for prison authorities everywhere, an example of how to crack the plague of violent prison gangs.
I find this quite amazing. I know it is not volutairy for the inmates to dance, they are forced to it, sometimes even up to 5 hours a day. But isn't it so much better than sitting behind bars doing nothing? Doesn't this give a sense of spiritual freedom too? I don't know, just questions, and I wish I could ask the prisoners about their thoughts on this.
Watching the videos, I wonder how we can use dance in so many other ways, like for school aged children. What about the ADHD children, who have a hard time sitting still all day long, listening and writing. Wouldn't this be a great outlet to get them going and moving for a bit, while still using concentration skills and practising memory?
What about using dance therapy in hospitals? Of course to everyone's ability, maybe even just moving the arms in a bed, but I can see how it could help taking people's mind off of their illness for a bit.
There are so many places where dance therapy could be used, I'll try to read some more about it!
Tanja
Friday, June 26, 2009
To my Blog Readers
Just want to clarify something: I am not living my life, writing my blog, for your entertainment. I never planned to do so, this is pure my spot on the internet to express my feelings. It does not matter if there are a hundred readers a day, or none, I write because I enjoy writing. To see my progress and my failures, to relive memories, good and bad.
That said, I do enjoy being in touch with my readers, some of them being great friends, family, fellow widows. What gives me the most joy and satisfaction is the private emails from people all over the world, who felt a click while reading one of my posts. My number one post is "Would you date someone in a wheelchair?". A lot of people are struggling with that question, and feel comforted by sharing emotions.
The second one is "Finding quarters", and people sent me emails expressing how thankful they are that someone else has that experience too, that they are not crazy.
It gives me a feeling of purpose. I made someone feel better just because of my writing.
Over the past years I have touched many topics: politics, fashion, diseases, raising kids, travel. But all of my posts are more or less connected to my grief. That is what got me writing in the first place, the loss of my husband and mother. The two people in the world, besides my children, that I love the most.
If you feel I'm whining, that I haven't moved on, that I think the world is all against me, then I'd suggest reading my blog is not your thing.
In many ways I have moved on, I tried really, really hard to make sense of it all.
Yet, I'm still lonely, I'm still unhappy. I refuse to pretend that I'm not. I refuse to put on a smiley face just to make my readers happy and amused. That would take away from my authenticity. I'm not ashamed of my feelings, at least I can express them and share them with you.
On my blog I share my dating stories. Most of them not that great, none of them successful. You are probably right, I'm too picky, too needy, too high maintenance, or whatever your thoughts about me are. That is fine.
Why I would love to share my life with a man? Because I have a lot of love to give. Because I do have physical needs, just like many others who don't dare to admit. Because I love sharing my thoughts with an adult on a daily basis. Because I feel that being with two I'm more complete. Because I'm plain lonely and alone.
I do not need someone to care of me, I can do that myself. I do not need anyone to help me with financial responsibilities, money is not a problem. I do not need someone to take care of my kids, or even help me take care of the kids; the kids turn out pretty well with just me in charge here. I do not need a handyman, my daughters and I even learned how to take care of plumbing problems and computer crashes. And I'm proud I proved I can chase a guy out of my house.
I know I'm only a very small person in this world, that one young widow cannot change the world and that I'm basically unimportant. But try to walk in my shoes for a bit, write about it, and see what moving on really means to you.
Tanja
That said, I do enjoy being in touch with my readers, some of them being great friends, family, fellow widows. What gives me the most joy and satisfaction is the private emails from people all over the world, who felt a click while reading one of my posts. My number one post is "Would you date someone in a wheelchair?". A lot of people are struggling with that question, and feel comforted by sharing emotions.
The second one is "Finding quarters", and people sent me emails expressing how thankful they are that someone else has that experience too, that they are not crazy.
It gives me a feeling of purpose. I made someone feel better just because of my writing.
Over the past years I have touched many topics: politics, fashion, diseases, raising kids, travel. But all of my posts are more or less connected to my grief. That is what got me writing in the first place, the loss of my husband and mother. The two people in the world, besides my children, that I love the most.
If you feel I'm whining, that I haven't moved on, that I think the world is all against me, then I'd suggest reading my blog is not your thing.
In many ways I have moved on, I tried really, really hard to make sense of it all.
Yet, I'm still lonely, I'm still unhappy. I refuse to pretend that I'm not. I refuse to put on a smiley face just to make my readers happy and amused. That would take away from my authenticity. I'm not ashamed of my feelings, at least I can express them and share them with you.
On my blog I share my dating stories. Most of them not that great, none of them successful. You are probably right, I'm too picky, too needy, too high maintenance, or whatever your thoughts about me are. That is fine.
Why I would love to share my life with a man? Because I have a lot of love to give. Because I do have physical needs, just like many others who don't dare to admit. Because I love sharing my thoughts with an adult on a daily basis. Because I feel that being with two I'm more complete. Because I'm plain lonely and alone.
I do not need someone to care of me, I can do that myself. I do not need anyone to help me with financial responsibilities, money is not a problem. I do not need someone to take care of my kids, or even help me take care of the kids; the kids turn out pretty well with just me in charge here. I do not need a handyman, my daughters and I even learned how to take care of plumbing problems and computer crashes. And I'm proud I proved I can chase a guy out of my house.
I know I'm only a very small person in this world, that one young widow cannot change the world and that I'm basically unimportant. But try to walk in my shoes for a bit, write about it, and see what moving on really means to you.
Tanja
Am I Bad?
It just might be, as I did something against my nature.
My youngest has a birthday party today, at a cool resort with a water park here in Phoenix. It will be lots of fun. Also according to the mom whom I just talked to when I dropped Nienke off. She really knows well that Nienke does not have a dad, that I'm a single mom. But that did not stop her from telling me expressively about how good her husband is to her and their kids. He went to the resort to decorate the room and to drop off the cake and the treats. He would take care of her son while she had fun with the girls in the park, all she had to do is enjoy.
She kept going on about her wonderful husband, and I just smiled and nodded.
I looked at her hair, that hasn't been touched up in a while, at her t-shirt with the holes in it, and I thought about how I carefully dress and do my hair so I look good. Look good for whom? Does it matter actually?
So when I walked back home, Romeo pulling at his leash as it is probably a 108 degrees outside, her husband drove up to me. He told me all about the resort, how cool it is there, how he decorated the room etc. Then he went on how he would love to spend a weekend with his wife there, just the two of them. Oh no wait, he would love for another COUPLE to come with them. Right, I don't count, I know that, I'm a single mother, I'm no fun. He didn't ask it straight, but he was waiting for me to offer to take care of their children for a weekend.
Guess what? While I had the offer on the tip of my tongue, I could not get it out of my mouth. Where I usually go out of my way to help others, I could not do it this time.
I'm jealous. I want to be part of a couple. I want my husband to help me with kids' birthday parties. I want to have a weekend getaway, just me and my man.
And not worry about my looks, about saying the right things, about the guy disappearing.
Not a nice part of me.
Tanja
My youngest has a birthday party today, at a cool resort with a water park here in Phoenix. It will be lots of fun. Also according to the mom whom I just talked to when I dropped Nienke off. She really knows well that Nienke does not have a dad, that I'm a single mom. But that did not stop her from telling me expressively about how good her husband is to her and their kids. He went to the resort to decorate the room and to drop off the cake and the treats. He would take care of her son while she had fun with the girls in the park, all she had to do is enjoy.
She kept going on about her wonderful husband, and I just smiled and nodded.
I looked at her hair, that hasn't been touched up in a while, at her t-shirt with the holes in it, and I thought about how I carefully dress and do my hair so I look good. Look good for whom? Does it matter actually?
So when I walked back home, Romeo pulling at his leash as it is probably a 108 degrees outside, her husband drove up to me. He told me all about the resort, how cool it is there, how he decorated the room etc. Then he went on how he would love to spend a weekend with his wife there, just the two of them. Oh no wait, he would love for another COUPLE to come with them. Right, I don't count, I know that, I'm a single mother, I'm no fun. He didn't ask it straight, but he was waiting for me to offer to take care of their children for a weekend.
Guess what? While I had the offer on the tip of my tongue, I could not get it out of my mouth. Where I usually go out of my way to help others, I could not do it this time.
I'm jealous. I want to be part of a couple. I want my husband to help me with kids' birthday parties. I want to have a weekend getaway, just me and my man.
And not worry about my looks, about saying the right things, about the guy disappearing.
Not a nice part of me.
Tanja
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Michael and Farah
They both died today. Very different causes of deaths. Farah had a long time disease, Michael had cancer. Different people, yet both have played such huge roles in the collective history of those who are of my age.
I could not, did not want to, and still cannot listen to Farah's suffering. That hits too close to home. Just the look on someone's face, their expression, when they know it's over, is too much for me. It literally gives me night mares.
A heart attack is different. I don't know anyone with a heart attack. It is sudden. It is fast. It is kind of surreal.
Farah has been followed by the news for months, years. All of her disease was out in the open, we knew what was coming, her death was inevitable.
Michael's death came more as a surprise. We knew he was sick, but how sick? I was sitting here at my computer when the news came in that he had been rushed to the hospital. We were watching TV when the coroner confirmed that he had died.
I cried, I will simply admit that I'm mourning. What exactly? Part of my childhood? Part of me that has died too?
This is how I expressed it on the widow board:
May both of them rest in peace.
Tanja
I could not, did not want to, and still cannot listen to Farah's suffering. That hits too close to home. Just the look on someone's face, their expression, when they know it's over, is too much for me. It literally gives me night mares.
A heart attack is different. I don't know anyone with a heart attack. It is sudden. It is fast. It is kind of surreal.
Farah has been followed by the news for months, years. All of her disease was out in the open, we knew what was coming, her death was inevitable.
Michael's death came more as a surprise. We knew he was sick, but how sick? I was sitting here at my computer when the news came in that he had been rushed to the hospital. We were watching TV when the coroner confirmed that he had died.
I cried, I will simply admit that I'm mourning. What exactly? Part of my childhood? Part of me that has died too?
This is how I expressed it on the widow board:
I feel that with the death of Michael and Farah I'm mourning part of myself, part of my childhood. Knowing that that will never come back.
I'm not sure how to explain, but it confirms that I'm getting older myself, and will also die one day.
I'm 44 now, will not dance in the disco anymore, will not watch Charlie's Angels anymore on TV with my parents. Since then I grew up, married, got children, lost my husband, lost my mom. I'm mourning all that I have lost, all the times that will never come back.
May both of them rest in peace.
Tanja
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