I feel like I left in the middle of my life - MY life, the one where I lived for ME and did things for ME - and that I'll never get to go back. Some days I feel that in moving here, everyone else has been able to progress, to grow, to improve, ...except myself.
I'm so incredibly proud of my husband and his accomplishments. I can't believe I am lucky enough to be married to him, my soul mate, someone so intelligent, clever, funny and sweet. He's honestly the best decision I've made. Period.
He has flourished, and so has his career, because of moving here. He easily could have remained in Nova Scotia, working with the same people, in the same places. But? We chose together to aim for something different, and to make a big change. It was risky, but one that has panned out beautifully for his Medical career. He is respected and valued at the hospital and clinics he runs. He's formed friendships and connections. But then he's like that. Drop him anywhere in the world, and in 20 minutes he's found someone to have lunch and talk about sports with. Having a vibrant social life is second nature to my happy guy. People like him, and he's got the endless energy and confidence to like them back.
My children. Oh, where would we be without them? Different as night and day, yet cut from the same cloth. Best friends and each others greatest irritation. They too have blossomed under these Alberta prairie skies. They are forming their own worlds, one tiny brick at a time. The landscape of their childhoods couldn't be more different from my own, but they are happy. Truly, happy. They have lovely friends. A big house and yard to safely play in. Lots of activities. We take fun family vacations. They smile ALL the time.
But... that niggling feeling in my skull. That inkling that I left a large portion of who I am, well... WAS at this stage of the game, abandoned when we came here. Moving here wasn't ONLY for my husband. I had lost my job and hadn't been able to find a new one, and here was Calgary brimming with jobs for engineers. I knew that living here we would make a lot more money and would be able to live quite comfortably in comparison to staying in the Maritimes. I knew that in doing so we may have to raise our children without family nearby, but we told ourselves this would allow us to raise them as we saw fit, without having to answer to much outside opinion. We were strong and young. We could do this. I would stay at home. He would work. This was our plan.
But as time has gone on, I feel something beginning to crumble. As the children get older and we "need help" less and less from family in the form of visits, I feel a shift happening. Their lives have been spinning and continuing as much as ours has. Each passing year I feel we are less and less connected to one another. We miss major events in each others lives. We are not there, and probably will never be, and when we are together it's different. It's an event. It's just a visit. In some ways, it's not real. Many times I feel they don't know us any more. And it breaks my heart that my children miss out on visits from their grandparents. We either have a big giant visit, or nothing. All or nothing. It's the way it's always been. Sometimes an entire YEAR will pass before we see some family in the flesh. A YEAR! Such an enormous quantity of time in the life of small children. My heart aches to be closer, to feel more like a family with the relatives my children adore so much. But. Here we are.
We've been here a decade. The friendships that I formed back East are beginning to fade and dilute. I know less and less about the women who I loved so much as friends, who I still love but who I have to admit are simply not really in my life anymore. Not really. I feel the strain on the relationship with my brother. The disconnect I have with my only blood-related niece, and my husbands' nieces. Truthfully I'm a terrible friend, here. I don't carve out time like I should to tend to the new friends I've made. I'm either busy with our children, or I'm tired. I'm not myself. I yearn for connections in this sprawling city, but I can't be bothered to make them. I continually sabotage my own identity here. I'm a shell of who I was, and I don't know how to fill it up again without neglecting the kids, our home, or our family unit. Balance. It's missing.
Now that my children are school aged, another shift is happening. For nearly 9 years, I have been at home. Stay-at-home Mom, and proud of it. I gave them the start I so desperately wanted to when they were born. I was there for them each and every day, with no days off. We survived it together and came out on the other side stronger for it. But, what happens next? Once they are in school every day from the time the bus picks them up at 8:00AM till the bell rings at 3:00PM? I'm not even sure how to begin answering the question of "What will you do with your time now?", a question that has already been posed to me now that my daughter is in half-day kindergarten. The answer is a frightening "I don't know."
To go back to work as an engineer terrifies me. I know I've lost a lot of my knowledge and skills from lack of use. My skin is thin and I don't take criticism anywhere near as well as I used to, and I was never really good at it. Least of all is the problem of logistics. I've come this far being 100% available for my children when they need me. I've given up so much so I can be home when they are, bring them to their activities and appointments, kiss them as they go to school, wrap them in my arms as they step off the bus at the end of the day. Do I stop now? Do we look into daycare now? So I can work a job downtown all of a sudden? Would they hate me for it? Would they judge me later for going back to work, when most of my income would be eaten by income taxes at this point, so I can feel some sense of purpose? And would I even feel that? Or would I just be busy, rushed, angry?
I have no answers.
I feel alone.
Lots of days I feel like I'm all alone. Unimportant. Valueless.
And on top of it all? Another Christmas is coming and we will be just the four of us. Another in a long list of major events and holidays where we won't share it with any aunts, uncles or grandparents. Another time for me to wonder what's it all about if we can't share these moments with our families?
So, it's easy to blame moving here as the root cause. To peg it on having to move here for my husband's Residency. To play the "I gave up everything " card to justify wallowing in my self-pity. It's easy to lash out and think that we're not important, not worth visiting.
It's a dark time in my heart lately. I'm trying to snap out of it. I'm hoping this post will help air out my mind, sweep my heart free of these hurts, whether perceived or real. I lay awake at night, trying to figure out what has changed, why all of a sudden these things are coming to light, and why this pain is so fresh. And then, I dream of being in a workplace, surrounded by people who need me and who want my opinion. It feels good, being valued for doing something other than housewifely duties, even if it is only imaginary.
What disturbs me most is this is the thing I so desperately wanted - to stay at home with my kids. I forgot to dream past that. And there is my mistake.
-TDW
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