When Some Questions Are Answered

Jan 01, 2021

When some questions are answered

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.” Zora Neale Hurston

A couple of years ago, I scribbled this quote by the author Zora Neale Hurston along the top of a page in my journal: “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”

Generally, the notebooks that I have been writing in on a fairly regular basis for the last 13 years or so are filled with entries that often detail my frustration around the same four or five things in my life but often skim over hard news. For example, if you start leafing through the pages of the blue spiral notebook I started in the spring of 2007, it would take you pages to get to the part where my marriage was in trouble. Instead, you would learn more than you needed to know about my ongoing kitchen renovation, daily workout sessions, an upcoming cleanse and that I was upset about a weight that today I’d shave all my hair off for.

I always thought that being diligent about keeping a journal throughout my divorce would someday help me write a memoir around it but instead, I’ve ended up with boxes and boxes of that type of internal monologue I’ve now learned I absolutely HATE reading in books. I can’t stand when the main character is beating something to death in her head, turning and fretting something over and over. I have instructed a good friend to come and burn all those notebooks upon my demise because the thought of anyone reading all the hand wringing and cheesy platitudes that fill the pages during my divorce would make me want to die again.

The Dear Diary entries are also laced with a touch of Bridget Jones as the years went on I started making note at the top of each entry of my daily weight, the number of drinks I’d had the night before and – more recently – a hangover rating between 1 and 5. Most days were a 3 but there were also plenty of 5s and once, a DEFCON 10.

Anyhoo, I’d stumbled across that quote by Hurston and it resonated for some reason. Now I can see that for a long time, I was asking the wrong questions. I definitely knew what I didn’t want in life, but wasn’t really sure what I did. And even more important, I didn’t know who I wanted to be. I’ve always loved the line from a Sarah Bareellis song I’d listen to on major repeat during my divorce, “I’m not the girl that I intend to be.” But at 54, I no longer cast myself as A: a girl or B: someone who has an unlimited amount of time to get things done. It was time for someday to arrive.

I started 2020 in a bad place. I was drinking too much, had just been dumped and was in serious debt. And then the pandemic hit and brought all four of my children home to roost through the summer and reminded me what is was like to care for and micromanage four other lives. What a gift it was to learn the hard way that I can’t control all the outcomes. I can stand on the sidelines and cheer and offer support and advice when solicited but pretty much, the oldest three with college degrees and 401ks will have to figure out stuff for themselves. Am I perfect at this? No. Do I still send links to self-help articles and recipes for kale-based meals? Let’s just say it’s a work in progress.

But somehow, over the last 12 months, I’m beginning to get some answers to help me begin to clarify at least some basic things. And while everyone is trying to throw 2020 into the dumpster fire from whence it came, I’d consider it one of my better years. One that started to answer some of my questions and remind me of who I want to be.

In 2007, I was still trying to be that shiny thing, with the handsome husband, four kids and a big kitchen island. Those were the things that would make my life complete. But now I know that to be real means getting “loose in the joints and very shabby,” which is what the Velveteen Rabbit eventually figured out.

Here are the lovely highlights of my 2020 that keep me moving towards being a real person and hopefully even better in 2021.

1. Reconnecting with a sibling

My phone rang one morning this summer and when I looked at who it was – assuming yet another robot call about purchasing an iPhone – I saw my sister’s name instead. I’d had a falling out with our mother almost four years earlier and most of my siblings dutifully took our mom’s “side” and stopped talking to me as well. And to be honest, things hadn’t been right with this sister of mine for years before that.

My instinct was to let it bounce to voicemail but then I looked at my younger daughter who said, “Answer it!” and I’m glad I did.

If you ever have the opportunity to be on the receiving end of such a sincere and beautiful apology, I know you will understand just how much it meant. That in just a few words, years of hurt and resentment were washed away.

She and I have reconnected hard and it’s been a blessing having her share the Thanksgiving table with me and the kids this year and drive back and forth together to visit our dad in Delaware. The best part is that it has absolutely nothing to do with our mother. We spend time together because we get where each other is coming from and laughed to discover that even though we hadn’t talked in years, we still liked a lot of the same things. We even had the same bathroom hand towels from Target. That sounds stupid but there are like 700 different options and we both chose ones with green palm fronds.

What a joy it is to have her in my life and a grown up relationship with each other that has nothing to do with anybody ele.

2. Getting sober

It turns out, not drinking has a lot less to do with booze and a lot more to do with why you were drinking so much in the first place. That, my friends, is where the journey really begins.

In just 79 days of not having any alcohol, I’ve had a couple of revelations. First, I look a lot better and lost a few pounds. I’d probably be even thinner f I wasn’t slowly working my way through a giant Wegman’s chocolate cake and bags of kettle corn drizzled in some “party cake” icing. For that, I have my sister to blame.

Second, my sleep is stupid good. I no longer wake up at 3am in existential crisis and it helps that I also recently refinanced to clean up the credit card debt that was like a scary monster living under my bed. Like, the scariest clown you could imagine.

Third, based on zero scientific evidence, the arthritis that has been plaguing my feet for years seems to have not disappeared but is much less aggressive than usual.

And I could go on and on but I’ll finish with the ol’ emotional sobriety piece. That I’m starting to get what it means to just sit with uncomfortable things instead of softening them with a big glass of red wine. It’s been hard but also good and I’m learning things about myself and others that I’d never considered before.

3. Getting out of debt

Damn, it feels good not to have a credit score that my friends at Credit Karma portray in blaring red type or be the recipient of encouraging emails about consolidating debt and making better decisions. I’m not sure if I will be able to maintain my new, “excellent” credit but for now, it feels really good and I love not waking up in the middle of the night and falling down the hole of financial despair.

4. My crazy daughter gave her kidney away

In June, my oldest daughter, Annie, straight up gave her kidney away in the middle of the pandemic and I’m still learning things from the lessons she has taught us all. First, choose a recipient who could not be more lovely or grateful for your gift because the girl Annie gave her kidney to could not be more appreciative. Even better if the recipient’s family is thankful, too. Like parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and grandparents. It’s been really lovely watching the whole thing and feeling so proud of my girl for helping out another human.

Another big takeaway is how getting out of her comfortable box and donating a kidney helped Annie make another really big change in her life. Even though it seemed scarier to her than organ donation (go figure), this summer she also navigated packing up her New York City apartment, relocating to Raleigh, NC and getting her Manhattan-based employer to let her work remotely from there. She even bought herself a car and registered to vote.

Annie taught me this year that nothing is insurmountable and that there’s plenty to go around. Help another person. Give your life meaning. Change what you don’t like. What an inspiration.

5. My baby got into college

If you know me you are aware then that I’m not good about the whole college application process – despite having gone through it now four times. While some people love to make a science out of the whole thing, I am annoyed by the college admissions charade.

And then through a pandemic into the whole thing, which created a host of different challenges for my youngest’s efforts to get into college. There were a few times I found myself getting worked up over the last few months – over whatever grades, emails from teachers and a ho-hum SAT score. But each time I had to remind myself that it just didn’t matter. His siblings all got into schools, got jobs and stayed out of jail. He would, too.

And guess what? He got his act together, applied to nine schools Early Action and earlier this month, the acceptances started coming in. I am gloating and elated not that he is going to any school in particular but that I NEVER HAVE TO TALK ABOUT GOING TO COLLEGE AGAIN. He will go somewhere and somehow I will figure out how to pay for it and I never have to think about SATs, GPAs or stupid essays again. Amen.

When the first acceptance came in, my daughter and I hooted and hollered for our guy and did the YOU’RE GOING TO COLLEGE thing. Even if everyone else said no, he had a place to go.

Later, my daughter looked at me and said, “How does it feel having four kids get into college?” and it made me think about the road to that moment. All those pages in those journals I had to fill in blue and black and sometimes purple ink to get right here.

All of the questions I’ve had to ask and answers I’m just beginning to find.

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