Doubts and Determination

My editor e.mailed me the final version of “Mama Goes to Paris”.  I am filled with dread.  I invested a lot of time and money in this project.  What if the book is not as good as I think it is?

All of us go through times when we are assailed with doubt and uncertainty.  I remind myself of other times when my situation was so awful that I became so depressed that I considered suicide.  The only thing that kept me alive was knowing how happy Wally would be if I were dead.

I had no premonition of the many years of happy times that lay ahead for me.

Back in the 1980's I went through a horrible time.  Unable to work (I went really crazy after menopause) I asked Wally for enough money to live on.  He refused and cut off all communication with me.  He even sued me for harassment.  This man I loved for 30 years came into court and on the witness stand swore it upset his second wife to find mail from me in their mail box.  The “mail” consisted of a birthday card and a “Happy Father’s Day” card I sent to the father of our children.

I had moved to New Mexico, where I had lots of fun, and returned to Illinois to sue him for support.  I did not have enough money to rent an apartment in Downers Grove.  For three years I depended on friends to have a place to sleep. When I could not bare to ask my friends to do any more, I went to a shelter for the homeless.  That’s when Martha and Don reluctantly let me come to stay with them.  They were newlyweds, and it was a difficult situation for the three of us.

I could have given up and gone to New Mexico to live on welfare.  Instead, I found ways to make life as enjoyable as possible.  I bought an annual pass to the Morton Arboretum where I hiked in the woods in all seasons.  How gorgeous were the daffodils in the spring!

Another time I spent my last $1.50 on a coke to meet Nancy at a singles at a bar where Parents Without Partners was having a mid-week break.  Nancy did not show up, but that was the night I met John Durkalski.  What I worried about (i.e. dying of hunger and lack of medical care) turned out totally different.  I never dreamed such a fine man would take on the responsibility of crazy, mixed-up, unattractive me.  John and I married and had four gloriously happy years.  Too brief, yes, but wonderful. 

Even after death John took care of me.  I am financially secure.  His money is paying for publication of  “Mama Goes to Paris.”   If no one reads it, I will still enjoy holding in my hands my own, published book.