Rejection

So here it is. I bit later than promised but it's been hard for me. As you might be able to see, I poured my heart into this essay. I desperately tried to sum up this amazing relationship in 5 minutes, or less. I cried through every paragraph and agonized over almost every word. At the end of it all, for whatever reason, it was rejected. I've been assured multiple times by those who made the decision that it wasn't about my story, or my writing. They must have really wanted me to know, because I never asked. Still, it hurt.

I'm glad that I wrote it all down. I worked through a lot of emotion through the process. 

So here it is. I hope that it can still be appreciated. I hope that hundreds of people can still read my story. I hope that your heart will be touched.

Seventeen Months

By: Megan Dompier

I knew my mother-in-law for exactly 17 months. And yet, I felt like there weren't two people on the planet who had the kind of relationship we did. It was a relationship built fast and strong by the pain that we each encountered in our own lives. When I met Lorrie I was getting ready to move home after living in Utah for 10 years, where I got married, had four kids and then divorced. I was looking for a fresh start with a strong foundation. I was also dating Phillip, her son. Lorrie had been diagnosed with breast cancer in 2003, and after years of treatment the cancer was finally in remission in February of 2010. However, her energy waxed and waned, and the fear that the cancer would return was real.

I had applied to dozens of jobs and submitted rental applications for several apartments. Having been rejected by every one of them, I realized my whole idea of a “fresh start” was going to be more difficult than I had anticipated. There was a 9.3% unemployment rate in Spokane and I had a 5 year gap in employment on my resume. It didn't matter that I had spent those years having my fourth baby, raising my other three kids, and dealing with a failing marriage. It didn't seem to matter how willing I was to learn, or that I had a fierce work ethic. Five empty years on a resume was career suicide. I was too big of a risk to rent to, and apparently too under qualified to hire.

Lorrie didn't see the risk in me. She saw me for who I was, a person who desperately needed someone to believe in me, and give me a chance. She welcomed me with open arms, and selflessly gave me what I needed to start over, and more. With nowhere to go, Lorrie invited me and my 2 year old daughter, Olivia, to live in her home. It didn't matter to her that a few weeks later my older 3 kids would be finishing school, and moving in, too. “The more the merrier” she said, as if living in a house with six adults, four kids, two dogs and two cats was completely normal. Her invitation was open, for as long as we needed. I was astonished. I had spent the better part of my life, trying to prove to anyone, and everyone that I was worth something, anything. Lorrie's generosity meant the world to me.

Lorrie and Olivia on Mother's Day 2010

Lorrie started bonding with Olivia immediately. She was ecstatic to have grandchildren. She told me that they had been waiting for years for this opportunity. Olivia ate up all of the attention. Day after day, they would share a breakfast of frozen blueberries and milk and sang “The Good Morning Song” to everyone. Lorrie cuddled with Olivia, through hours of toddler tv. We sat outside and soaked up the sunshine, and watched Olivia play. We would drive around attempting to get the defiant 2 year old to take a nap. On our outings together she always found an excuse to get Olivia a treat, for such a special girl.

I loved every minute I spent with Lorrie, too. Nothing we did ever appeared to be of great importance, but everything took on a deeper meaning with the conversations we shared. She told me all of her favorite family stories. She would explain to me how completely she loved her children. That she could feel every joy and every sorrow they experienced, as her own. We laughed at her antics growing up, and at which traits each of her kids got from her, and which ones they got from Bob, her husband. We shared stories of growing up with parents who divorced and the strength and pain that comes with it. She taught me to be more patient and enjoy more of the little things about raising children. She told me that I showed her that you can love your kids and set boundaries. She confided, that this was something she had wrestled with while raising her own.

In September, Lorrie went in for a routine scan to check the status of her cancer. The news was devastating. The cancer had come back with a vengeance. This time through her spine. The doctors predicted she had roughly 6-9 months left. Lorrie declared she wasn't finished and she'd die when she damn well pleased. She had grandkids to cherish, birthdays and holidays to celebrate, and, since Phillip

proposed, a wedding to plan. She didn't want to slow down, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let

cancer dictate her life!

December 5th, 2010

As hard as the news was to swallow, we followed Lorrie's lead. It was extremely important to Lorrie and Phillip that she be at our wedding. She wanted to relish in our happiness, she wanted a mother and son dance, and she wanted a big party. We moved our wedding from June of 2011 to December of 2010. Lorrie was relieved that there was something else to focus on, aside from cancer. Our wedding was everything a wedding should be, a celebration of love and happiness. At the end of the night our hearts were full.

Their Mother/Son Dance

In the next few months Lorrie's health started to decline quickly. The final scan showed the cancer had made it to her brain. Hospice was called in to give Lorrie and our family support. In the spring she started having seizures, one so intense it caused her to fall, breaking her leg. She persisted in keeping her independence and used crutches to get around. The night before getting her cast off she suffered another seizure, this time, breaking her collar bone. It was apparent that we needed to step in and nurture her, just as she had nurtured so many in her life. When her need for care increased, I couldn't walk away. I continued to sit with her, to be with her, day in and day out. I attended the nurse visits, made charts to track medication. I felt compelled to do for her what she could no longer do for herself. I wanted to repay her for all that she had given me.

Our family, the day we celebrated Lorrie's life, in her favorite Tie-Dye

On August 25^th, 2011 at 12:25 am I checked on Lorrie and found that she had taken her last breath. When I couldn't find her heartbeat I called Phillip and Bob to come to her bedside. I had known her for seventeen months. We celebrated every holiday, and every birthday once. It was just enough time, because we found something to laugh about, cry over, and learn from everyday. Seventeen months had to be long enough, so we made every minute count.

The Truth About Worthless Men

My post will make a lot more sense, if you read this post by Dan Pearce; Worthless Men and Women Who Make Them. So do that first and then come right back. I'll still be here, promise!

I personally believe that every wife needs to hear this message. Not because we need to feel bad, or powerless, but because we should be aware that what we do and say to our men really affects them.  It affects our relationships with them. I want to talk to the women who aren't "getting what [they] want" from their partners. Sometimes the hardest part about getting what we want is making the changes we need to personally, so our hearts can receive. I truly believe that all too often we, as women, have convinced ourselves that we aren't worth the love another has to offer. In our fear that this is true we have built a wall around our hearts, that does indeed protect us, but it also prevents us from seeing the love that is there.

Worthless Men and Women Who Make Them was posted less than a week before I was going to marry Phillip. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hit a nerve. I had sort of an internal panic attack. It was like, all at once I could see everything I had done wrong in my previous marriage. After taking a day moment to collect my thoughts, I read the article again. This time I saw everything that my soon-to-be-husband's ex had done to him, which always makes me angry. The problem was every time I read this post it brought up big emotions and I had a wedding day waiting for me, it was rather inconvenient. It would have been really easy for me to shove it all aside. A little too easy. I knew, because my feelings were so strong, there was something I needed to hear, and learn from this post. I picked myself up and reminded myself to just listen. (Yes, I often talk to myself). I needed to lower my defenses. This is what I learned...

"Watch how often you roll your eyes at him because he didn’t do something exactly the way you would have done it.
Watch how often he shuts off, groans, or says something snide back to you.
You see, men react to all of these things much differently than women do. We hide behind tough-guy acts. We move on as if whatever was just said had no effect on us. We pretend that we’re above caring. We often laugh it off.
But we do internalize it. And we hate it."

Honestly as easy as it is for me to see now, I was completely blind to it before. I was so stuck on what so-and-so was not doing right. I was so worried that all anyone ever saw was my mistakes and my insufficiencies. I was so wrapped up in my insecurity and my nothingness that I did not know that what I did had any affect on him. I felt like I was in a battle to prove to the world, and my (ex)husband, and his family, and our friends, that I was worth something. It was an ugly cycle. The more worthless I felt, the more I had to prove I knew, what I was talking about, what I was doing, or that my feelings meant something too. I don't know who started the cycle in that marriage, but we were in it full tilt. Quite frankly, it didn't, nor does it, really matter. We had bigger problems which could be a topic for another post. The problem was, this cycle only made matters worse. My fear was that I would be forever blind and I could do it again. I don't ever want to be in that cycle again, its not a great place. So I kept learning...

"Be kind. Damn it. Be kind. I’m not saying be passive or turn yourself into a doormat. I’m saying that you should be sincere and sweet to your man. You should be tender and careful. You should value his feelings as much as you value your own." 

 This is what I try to remember, usually when I least feel like being kind, because I realize that's when it is most essential to my relationship with Phillip. You see, I have learned from experience, if I get ugly when I'm hurt or angry, nothing good comes of it. NOTHING. It doesn't matter how on point I am, or how justified my feelings are, if I can't express them without doing so with a soft heart and with a willingness to change where I need to, we can't move forward in our relationship. Then we're in a cycle, the bad kind. This has seriously been one of the hardest things. I am a passionate, emotional, sensitive, honest and loud person. Apparently these attributes combined with hurt and anger can be quite harsh and unproductive. I would never under any circumstance claim to have mastered this, it's a work in progress. Being human can be so frustrating. Wanna know what else I remind myself? Here ya' go...

"Women, do yourselves a favor. Please. For the next month, tell your husbands or fiancées or boyfriends or whoever that they are everything you want them to be. Not only will they start to rise to the occasion, but you will begin to see that what they currently are and what they currently offer, is quite often pretty damn good"

Don't just do it for a month, though. Keep doing it. Whenever he makes it hard, love him more. Phillip has made it hard sometimes, very hard. But I love him, we are committed to each other. When all seems lost, I tell him that I love him, no matter what. I remind him that he is strong and amazing. I might tell him a couple of things I love about him, or just one silly thing. Whenever I need more from him I try and look at what he does for me, and the kids. If I do, and I have, tell him what needs fixing I do it when things are peaceful. I'm not saying I don't have emotional melt-downs, or personal crisis, or bitchy moments, I totally do. However, I have noticed, that if those moments aren't about him and what he does or doesn't do, he's right there holding me, encouraging me, and loving me. If those moments are about my vulnerabilites, he gives me exactly what I need. The moment that I turn it into his fault, or his short comings, his defenses come up and it is harder for him to give me what I need, and harder for me to receive what he has to offer. This goes both ways, when he's grumpy, or short-tempered, or frustrated, I've learned that those moments aren't about me, it's because he's had a hard day, or he's dealing with something, he has feelings too. When I give him the love he needs, and I remind him that he is stuck with me (this always makes him smile), he feels loved, he feels capable, he feels stronger. That is an amazing cycle, a beautiful cycle.

If you want to take it to the next level, I have another secret. This is my favorite thing to do lately. It stems from my need to laugh, a lot. I love laughing and I especially love making people laugh, and I really especially love making Phillip laugh. I realized a while back that we weren't laughing enough, which made me sad. My initial reaction was to get all hurt, and be like "why don't you ever laugh at me, why don't you think I'm funny?". Luckily, for both of us I snapped right out of it and started scheming.

My plan was to make him laugh everyday for a week. Not just like a teehee-you-are-sort-of-amusing laugh. No, I wanted an all out belly laugh, and even better if either of us snorts, that always makes us laugh harder. Oh yes, the game was on and my husband was none the wiser. There were a couple of days it was easy. I think that just being more aware of our laughing together showed me that it wasn't as rare as I felt it was. Other days had been rough, and heavy with serious emotion. Those were the days that I was most determined to make him laugh. I looked at it as a one shot deal. There is nothing more annoying than someone who is always looking for a laugh, so I had to choose my moment carefully. One night we were sitting in bed, watching something on tv, it had been a particularly long and stressful day for both of us. We were eating gummy worms and I decided to eat the body and stick what was left of the head, to my forehead. I didn't make it obvious, more like a game of how many can I make stick before he notices. After I had three, I started chuckling to myself. I looked like a complete idiot, and I was cracking myself up- bad form. He finally turned to see what was going on over on my side of the bed and first looked at me like I was as crazy as I felt, and then busted up laughing to the point of snorting. Success! It was in that moment that I realized that all the feel goods in relationships don't always 'just happen'. If you need something you're not getting in your relationship, there doesn't always have to be a debate about who, what, when where and why. You can take the reigns. Since my week of laughter scheme, I've noticed that we laugh together more, partly because I'm aware of it, and partly because I work for it (and get this...) partly because he tries now too. Not once did I nag him about it, I didn't scream or cry about it, never made him feel guilt about it either. I simply made it a priority. When we laughed together, I told him how much it meant to me. I appreciated every second of it. Making a change that way is an awesome feeling!

So, what do you want to change in your relationship? What are you willing to do for it?

Quoted material is all from Single Dad Laughing over at www.danoah.com