And Now My Work is Done
And now my work is done. The last of my family has left the house. Peter passed away five years and almost five months ago. Kelly, bless him, bought a house, moved out, and got married on the eve of Rosh Hashanah. Due to the pandemic, it was a small but very meaningful and beautiful wedding in our garden.
Last night as I locked the door behind Kelly, Andrea and the pups, a quiet sadness descended upon me. Even the music on the radio seemed to be silently weeping. Of what use am I to anyone anymore? I have outlived my reason for being. In my memory, I wander through the long winding paths of my life. I remember the carefree young girl I use to be, the young wife, and the young mother. I remember the tempestuous and angry first marriage that failed so miserably. Much later I remember the escape from the revolution in Iran and arriving in New York in the midst of a snowstorm on January 17, 1979. We were in a daze. The storm raged outside, and the storm raged within our psyche; it whirled and shrieked, as if to warn us of the still more harrowing years that were to come.
I remember the pain my poor children experienced in those long bitter years of that miserably failed marriage. I felt convinced that this city was drab and grey. It lacked in sunshine, in laughter, in joy. There were only unfriendly, narrow-minded, and uninformed people. People who tormented us, who smeared dog feces on our front door and into the locks of our car, all because of the Iranian Revolution from which we fled. There was a great shortage of fuel in this country because of that. It seemed as if they blamed us for that, instead of that peanut farmer, that sanctimonious Jimmy Carter who spoke of human rights and turned our country and our lives upside down and helped oust the Shah from Iran. I remember feeling as if we were viciously pulled by the roots and carelessly flung into an unfriendly environment.
My first marriage was bitter. It scarred us all, most of all my children. My children, oh my children, how they suffered through no fault of their own. The older and more mature me would give anything to be able to erase those ugly years and replace them with years filled with love and peace. Just as the body ejects an unhealthy and unwanted object, we finally dissolved our marriage. However, one cannot go back and adjust the past. We can only move forward.
And then one day along came Peter. That was when I realized that the sunshine, laughter, and joy that had eluded us were there all along. It had been hiding behind a dark ominous cloud of an angry marriage. The clouds slowly evaporated. Sunshine began to pour upon us. Peace, laughter, love, they all poured in. They entered in the form of the loving and caring Peter. Life became good. I felt that nothing would ever mar this perfect existence. I had always felt that God kept a vigilant eye on me and if I experienced hardships, there must be a reason. I needed to learn a life lesson and become a stronger and more compassionate person. I told myself that the hardships were just temporary setbacks. They made me appreciate the new life I was given. The sunshine of life poured over our heads. All God’s blessings poured over me. My loving husband, my beautiful children, and my wonderful grandson! I thanked God for all the joy in my life, each and every moment of every single day.
For thirty-something years, I lived in my wonderful paradise. But everything comes to an end. Life has its ups and downs. One day I suddenly lost my Peter, I was bereft. I do not think I will ever get over his loss. It left a huge chasm in my life. I still feel his love in my being but he is not here. I take comfort in the warmth I feel in loving my children, my Kelly, Jessica, Matthew, and Teal. They are my joy, but they don’t need me. They have their own lives to lead. I am not needed anymore. My role as daughter, and wife have ended. My role as mother and grandmother are superfluous. Last night as I locked the doors and windows, before I went upstairs for the night, I realized that. I am an afterthought. I have become the doddering old lady that is humored by her children.
Such is life, I thought, as I wearily climbed upstairs for the night. One day you are young and vibrant and then suddenly, when you least expect it, you are not… Your children patiently humour you. They treat you like an old person. But I am still who I was, I whisper to myself. Then I tell myself, ‘’You have to learn to accept this. You are now in another stage of life.’’
Now I sit in my bedroom listening to my beloved classical music. It is autumn. There is a chill in the air. The leaves on the trees outside my window are turning to a burnished gold. Soon winter will be here. I sit in my bedroom, wrapped in a warm dressing gown with a throw on my lap. The sun is weak today. The skies are cloudy. There is nothing for me to do except to feed my outdoor cats. Yes, my role “in life is done. I lean back against the chair and close my eyes. How fleeting is time. Yes, how fleeting is time.