The Words we Use

And the things we carry

Praying in the morning is something I try to do religiously (pun intended). Before Chuck died, I began a great ritual through the Ignatian retreat (virtual) I participated in with my church, and I still hope to do the walk one day in Spain. After his death, a small book on Grief arrived with soup and a blanket - all three girls and I eventually gained one of those blankets, and I often send the small book to friends who I think may find solace in it when facing a loss.

Lately, I’ve been using another daily religious book that I often read with a friend. I like the Ignatian readings and the Daily Meditations in the grief book. There are days when the readings really help me work through my thoughts. Sometimes, I work through issues I didn't even know I was struggling with, and that was the case today.

The reading started with this quote: “Watch your words diligently. Words have such great power to bless or to wound. When you speak carelessly or negatively, you damage others as well as yourself.” I was attentive to this message for several reasons. I have an important week ahead at work where I know my words will be important, and I have been feeling that stress. I also know that there are times when I do use my words carelessly - sometimes impulsively, sometimes in frustration, and sometimes in an attempt to be funny. And at times, my words can be sharp and wounding. So I thought this was a good reminder.

Shortly before heading into mass, I got a lovely and kind group text from some of my mom colleagues. One of them shared this article from the Wall Street Journal entitled, “The Conservative Women Who Are ‘Having It All’,” and she kindly gave me a shout out for paving the way. As I read the article, I was happy to find limited pushback to the efforts of women closer in age to my daughters than to me, leading high-profile lives as working mothers and as Republicans. That was not the case 27 years ago when I was pregnant and running for Lieutenant Governor. I was even more surprised to see a quote from a name I recognized that was supportive of these young working moms. It is a name that has stayed with me for those 27 years. This woman was also quoted during my first pregnancy, and her comments weren’t so supportive back then.

I was called selfish, and in an admirable rhetorical flourish, she said I represented my generation’s Vietnam. Mothers, like me, who chose to work, were equated with draft dodgers shirking their duty. I have long claimed not to have let the public criticism of my work-family choices bother me. I am sure those closest to me in those early years knew otherwise. I don’t think there is any first-time mother, or probably a first-time parent, who wonders if they are making the right choices for their children. Chuck and I were no different in our doubts and late-night discussions about whether we were making good decisions. Except that many of our choices were being dissected in the public square.

I sent a note back to my working mom crew, who related to the article and were happy to see it. I noted the progress and particularly the seeming epiphany of a particular commentator and shared with them the old criticism she had made. I thought about writing a letter to the editor congratulating her on her metamorphosis, and I theorized she likely had a daughter a bit older than mine who might be a modern-day draft dodger. Haha. I decided to try to find the old quote in case I decided to write the letter.

When I googled this person, I found something far different from what I expected. She did indeed have children, a few years older than my three. But prominent in the Google search was her writing, much like this blog, about the sudden death of her oldest daughter a year ago.

Her loss doesn’t change my hurt from those many years ago. But it did force me to pause. It forced me, in relating to her loss and her humanity, to also acknowledge that I had been carrying more hurt than I probably have admitted even to myself from all that criticism, not just from her but others. And, to be honest with myself, I have also probably said things in public that may have hurt others that they have held on to longer than I might have realized.

My reading this morning went on to share this verse from the bible:

“… take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” James 1:19

Even though I had heard those words and knew they were relevant in the morning, my first thought after reading the WSJ column was to fire off a pithy letter to the editor with a bit of zing at this grieving mom. I needed a little more reinforcement for this lesson. I don’t know that a Google Search counts as being slow to become angry, but it certainly slowed me down enough to prevent me from writing a letter I would have deeply regretted.

I worried a lot before and right after Chuck died that I would not be as ‘good’ a person without him around. I voiced that to him. I knew that at times he checked my impulsiveness. One of the hardest lessons, but also one of the lessons I am most proud of since his death, is that I have it within me to grow and learn and control who I become in this phase of my life. It is the scariest part of the journey, and I am lucky to have faith, family, and great friends by my side.

The slow down and listen part is still a work in progress. But I am trying.