Smart. Cute. Not-so-cute. We all have inner self-identifiers.
We all have ways of defining ourselves, whether consciously or unconsciously. We might think of ourselves as smart, funny, kind or brave. We might also think of ourselves as less than perfect, with flaws and limitations.
A few weeks ago, I started to understand all on my own that I am now a “half person” as opposed to the whole person I once was before our family tragedy. For me, I find it very empowering to define myself in this manner.
I used to be afraid of my limitations. I thought they made me weak and inadequate. But now I see them as a source of strength. They’ve taught me to be more realistic about my expectations and to appreciate the things I can do.
Looking back, I appreciate even more the time I spent watching the aging process of my parents. As they grew older, they became acutely aware of their limitations. For instance, after my dad’s retirement at 70, he used to be able to work about eight hours a day in the garden. But as he grew older, he cut his gardening back to a daily hour or two. My dad would come into the house after gardening, his face, the color of the beets he grew in the rich soil, and dripping from sweat, and announce with conviction, “I’m not so good anymore.”
There wasn’t a hint of self-pity in his tone. Instead, it sounded as if he had landed at a new place in life, and he opened his arms wide with acceptance. He left me with a poignant picture of what it means “to age gracefully.”
That place parallels with how I feel about being a half person. I’ve retired from my Atlas position of holding up the world, and now I just lean into it.
I used to think I had to be strong and capable all the time. I needed to be the Atlas of my family and friends, holding up the world for them too. But now I know I can’t do that. I’m just a half person, and that’s okay.
Given this new state, I am proactive and fiercely protective of myself. I’m not going to let anyone take advantage of me or make me feel bad about myself and how I feel. Walking on egg shells is becoming an impossible feat for me.
For obvious reasons, I steer clear of the real-life nemesis in my life and others who fall into that category. Right now I’m not up to exposure therapy of any form. And just because that particular therapy is not in the cards at the moment, it may be at another time.
Anyway, all this being said, I want to address two things.
First, I recently learned that my eye doctor had faced some serious sexual assault criminal charges in 2020. I’m still processing the information and at the current time, I have no updates about the crimes, which also allegedly included a minor. On the one hand, I’ve never had any personal experience with him that would make me think he’s guilty of any criminal acts. On the other hand, I’m a half person, and, as already mentioned, I guard myself fiercely and certainly don’t intend to invite any more stress than necessary into my life.
Second, my birthday is coming up next Tuesday. I’m really not looking forward to it. I wasn’t too thrilled about my birthday before I became a half person, but now it’s utterly meaningless. I used to be afraid of growing old and becoming wrinkled and frightful, but now I couldn’t care less. So it’s not about growing old and falling out of grace. It’s about staying in grace, which means being true to myself, and, to me, the day symbolizes just another day of the year.
So, here’s what I’m going to do on my birthday. I’m going to be alone. I’m going to minister to my half person. I’m going to be honest with myself and with others, the way I used to be with my son. He would always listen to me without judgment, and he would always say, “That sucks!” I miss that.
My life as a half person has made me surrender so much unnecessary energy. It has also made me realize that nothing has the same meaning as it used to. Everything is vanilla now. But I’m okay with that, too, and vanilla has always been one of my favorite flavor choices.
I do, however, find meaning in other people’s lives and in the joy they find. It fills my empty vessel with hope and faith. I know that I’ve been passed up for a number of invitations over the years because people see me as a walking image of pain. But I don’t take it personally. I’m grateful for the joys I’ve had the opportunity to share in, such as my dear friend Pat’s 85th birthday surprise party in 2020. It was a time of such raw pain, but it was also a time of great joy. I remember Pat’s radiant joy, and I felt her deep connection and compassion for life, however fleeting it was for me. These are the moments that get me through my vanilla life. These are the moments that make it all worth it.
I’m not sure what the future holds for me. I may never find meaning in life again. But I’m okay with that too. I’m content to live my life in vanilla, as long as I have the occasional cherry on top.
WTF? (Where's the faith?) 
Stacy, tears are streaming down my face reading this. My heart and head are nodding. I’ve not gone through what you have, my friend. I COMMEND you for putting up boundaries and walls. This morning I cried for a long time because of NOT putting them up. Since my “diagnosis” I’ve allowed everyone a “front row seat” (and if I haven’t done it, my family and friends have). My sons are still here and I’m grateful. They’ve lived away from me for 10 years as they both joined the service. People tell me to “find my joy” and yes, I have wonderful faith! Like you, the situations have made me stronger. But they were hell to get through (broken relationships, loss, loss of career, etc…). Since my #1 joy is not a possibility, the 2nd is reading and writing. But I drop everything for drop-in visits, texts, calls…appts. It’s feast or famine. And I only get about 5-6 “good” hours a day (does that make sense?). I know how fortunate I am that my Dad is still around. He’s only 82 but has had tons of health issues. My mom is showing early signs of dementia, just as other family members and my grandpa. They have raised my disabled niece who is 28 (I have an older sister who is disabled). My stubborn Mom has not wanted change at all. She has been able to control the situations. I returned from a trip near K.C. This weekend from visiting my son and family (both of them joined the Air Force years ago and have never lived close). Upon my return I answered a zillion texts (I might be exaggerating, lol) and calls about how I’m doing. Even after a 30 minute call, my mom gave me 30 minutes before she wanted to “see my face”. I’m allowing the feelings others have about my disease to take my joy, Stacy. It adds more stress. I’ve given so much to God. I realize my schedule is not my own. However, I’ve TRIED so hard to establish boundaries (“walls”) and others just tear it down and do it all in the name of “love”. Nope! It’s about THEIR feelings; not mine. I didn’t mean to digress here on your beautiful upcoming birthday piece! It’s full of wisdom and truth! I commend you. I understand about being 1/2 of who you were. I can’t possibly understand fully your situation; but I do know what it’s like to have am empty place and to feel “1/2” of what I was before. I hope I’m someone who can add a cherry on top for you. YOU DESERVE IT! You’re a beautiful soul. I’m thankful to God for putting you in my life when he did. It means so much to me. Please know that I’m not always consistent here. But your words, when I read them, give me hope. Even in your darkness, you’re a light. You continue to keep coming up for air; all the while encouraging US in your walk. Please know I don’t take it for granted. Your struggles, life, loss, loves,…all of it has inspired me. I celebrate you. On your birthday please know how much you’re loved. Happy birthday, my friend. Enjoy every minute knowing that you have made a difference in my life. Love and prayers, Karla. 💛🙏
Oh, Karla, I have tears streaming down MY face. This is all so honest and so raw and so beautifully human! You are so aware of so much and I think that’s key to taking care of ourselves! After that, we just have to put our plans into action! That’s the tough part! I so, too, identify with the reading and writing part. #1! for sure! Thank you! Thank you! You ALWAYS add the cherry I so desperately need! 🤍🤍🤍
Do you feel me hugging you? Oh, how I wished you and I lived close to one another. You inspire me so much. I’m so glad we can support one another. I do believe being “aware” is a great trait! Let’s stay aware, raw, and honest together! ❤️😘🤟
My sentiments exactly! 🤍🤍
❤️
Stacy I wish you a joyful and peaceful birthday .We go to the temple on our birthday in India. I feel complete after facing so many crisis in my life. Pain has purified me to a great extent & it is work in process till my last breath.Having faced the death of a son, my threshold for pain is strengthened.. You are certainty a whole, integrated soul. Please celebrate your birthday with loved ones which will be treasured as a beautiful memory for posterity
I feel your grief, Stacy. Losing Marshall has eviscerated your soul. Of course you are half a person, from where you were before. I love how you are honoring the piece that remains – taking care of yourself. That is exactly what he would want you to do. I understand the vulnerability and being alone can be soothing and safe. Why not embrace it? I’m proud of you. You have come so far. Baby steps, my friend. You continue to move forward.
I promise that one day you won’t feel that empty ache the way you are feeling it right now. I mean that.
Exactly so. I often wonder if the reason I feel halved is because I moved away from what I found meaningless. A great post!
You always have a great way of looking at things in a way I would have never thought of! WOW, Bryan!
Thank you, my friend!
PS: I’ve been thinking of your comment all week. If ok with you, I might use it this week in my post! OK?
Absolutely!
Self-acceptance is always the way to go. It provides a sense of clarity for oneself, as well as for others. I’m also glad you ended with the cherry metaphor, because cherries always abound. We just have to pluck one and add it to our “vanilla” lives.