I vividly recall that Pan Am flight from Miami to our new adventure in England. Above the mid-Atlantic clouds, my mother donned her usual attire of Wrangler blue jeans paired with a breezy blouse, while I sported an all-purple corduroy outfit. We were elevated, both physically and metaphorically. My mother was 34, younger than I am today, and I had just celebrated my 9th birthday. Adorned with purple beads, she embodied the spirit of her Woodstock generation, serving as my beautiful anchor.
We were embarking on a fresh start; my mother had fallen for a charming Brit, and we were leaving everything familiar behind. My Peaches ‘n Cream Barbie doll sat clumsily on the tray table, her dress reminiscent of the icy landscape beyond the window over Greenland. Having grown up in Florida, I had never encountered snow until this flight. This peculiar journey—Barbie, tundra, and my mother—symbolized our escape.
At that age, I was oblivious to what we were escaping or the fact that we were beginning anew. I didn’t grasp that my mother was a woman capable of rising from the ashes of her past, one who faced unimaginable challenges, including the sudden death of my father when I was just 2½ years old. More than a mere instinct, her resilience and optimism were extraordinary gifts.
I was far too young to understand the depth of her spiritual connections or the risks she was taking by uprooting her life in Florida to “try out” England with a man she had known for a mere summer. She embraced uncertainty and displayed remarkable bravery, as she questioned, “What do I have to lose?”
Even as a child, I sensed that my mom was on a continual quest for joy—a pursuit that was sometimes challenging but often rewarding. Her determination to forge ahead, despite facing significant adversity, and her boundless capacity for love have been etched in my mind from an early age. Now, as I navigate a divorce I never wanted after just seven months of marriage, I find myself reflecting on these lessons more than ever.
The happiness I experienced being married to my husband was abruptly overshadowed when he decided to leave. In the aftermath, I felt shattered, and my mother stood by my side, offering wisdom and comfort. Surprisingly, I’ve discovered a resilience and courage within myself; I’m starting anew—something I never envisioned as a newlywed.
This transitional phase between marriage and divorce is undeniably challenging. While I grapple with my feelings for my husband, I maintain hope that joy will return to my life. My mother’s journey serves as a testament that we can live multiple lives in one lifetime, and happiness can emerge when we least expect it.
I’ve come to realize that the tools for confronting grief reside within me, shaped by my experiences alongside my mother. I watched her pursue various careers—teaching, nursing, and paralegal work—always striving for something better. She experimented with different styles, from flowing skirts to 1980s power suits, reflecting her willingness to try new things. She worked tirelessly, navigated difficult relationships, and displayed unwavering courage in the face of adversity.
Her sudden transition to single motherhood after my father’s passing was immense. She leaned on a robust support network of family, friends, and colleagues who pitched in with everything from meals to babysitting, teaching me that we never truly face challenges alone. This lesson has become particularly relevant as I reach out for help during this trying time.
My mom’s impact on my life has always been significant, but her support during this tumultuous period feels especially profound. Having endured the loss of a husband and a divorce, she embodies wisdom and empathy, guiding me through my own grief. The resilience I now recognize in myself reflects the strength I observed in her throughout my childhood.
Today, my mother is a skilled therapist who has discovered her true passion. Even after her divorce from my stepfather, they remain friends while both have found new love. Recently, she changed her name from Joyce to Joy, claiming it feels more fitting, and she radiates happiness. While I may not feel particularly joyful right now, I am indeed strong, embodying love, passion, and courage amid my sorrow.
Much like that flight over Greenland, my life feels suspended in the air, charting a course to an unknown destination. My mother remains a steadfast anchor in my journey. One day, I aspire to exemplify resilience and courage for my own child, just as she did for me, and to share stories about how remarkable Grandma Joy is.
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In summary, my mother’s journey through life has been a powerful teacher, instilling in me the values of strength, resilience, and the pursuit of joy. As I navigate my own challenges, I carry her lessons with me, hoping to pass them on to the next generation.