Today was a very sad day for me.  I cooked and took a dish over to a woman who had just lost her husband of over 50 years.  I have known this couple since I was a kid and have often marveled at how they had the strength to do the things they did.

They married young and had children young, as was the culture in the rural area they lived in back in "the day".  They both had children, but as if often the case back in the "old days" in rural areas, only one of these children survived to adulthood.  Diseases there are now cures for, like childhood luekemia, and pneumonia, as well as  accidents in the days before rigid safety standards, claimed a lot of children in the early part of the 20th century.

Both of these people ended up widowed from their first marriages before they married each other, and both had raised their first set of children to young adulthood before they married each other.  This was the first generation of children they raised.

Ok, so they meet and marry and end up having a child together in middle age, which was a surprise and shock to them both, but considered a blessing.  This child was to be my friend as they lived down the street from me.  This was the second generation of children they were raising.  When my friend was in high school, the one child that that the Mom had from  her previous marriage decided to become a crackhead and dumped her two young children on her parents.  These now elderly people then were raising their third generation of children, their grandchildren from their first marriage. 

The crackhead daughter moved back in when she got sick of being homeless, and brought her crackhead ways to their child together, and to her two children she had dumped on her mom and stepfather.  Their daughter, who was my friend, soon became too wild for me and I ended the friendship.

They raised their first set of  two grandchildren to young adulthood, one followed in the footsteps of her crackhead mom, and the other went to college and made them proud.

By this time, their daughter together, who had been my friend, ended up in jail and when she got out, met another jailbird and married him and had a couple of kids.  It didn't take long before she too became a crackhead and those kids too were dumped on the elderly grandparents.  They then raised their FOURTH generation of children, their grandchildren from their second marriage, from their menopause baby.  Ironically, this grandaughter, the daughter of my ex-friend, and my daughter, became friends, so these wonderful people came into my life again, as the "parents" of my daughter's best friend.  It was a happy time for all of us, I had always loved them very much, there were like family by then, and they treated my daughter with as much love and kindness as if she would have been their grandaughter.

These poor people are now in their late eighties, still raising grandchildren.  Their youngest grandchild they were raising, from their only child together, is now a senior in high school, although the other one married at 18 and left.

I have often wondered what gave them the strength to bear up under such a burden, of raising four generations of children through all of their middle and old age.  They have been loving, raising, providing for, caring for, and nurturing children for SEVENTY YEARS!!!

Well, the Grandfather just passed away from cancer.  I am not thinking that all of extra work in his old age caused his cancer, or his death, but the worry of what would happen to this last grandchild still in high school, I am sure did not bring him any rest or comfort while he was sick and undergoing chemotherapy and trying to fight off his cancer. 

Rather than resting during chemo and fighting it off, he still had to get up and drive the child to school, pick them up, take them to the doctor when sick, go to school events, etc.  I saw him  a few months ago at the store, sleeping in his car.  I asked him how he was, he said very tired, too tired to get out of his car, so he was taking a nap while hie grandchild shopped so he would have the strength to get out of the car and go into the house when he got home.

I have learned a lot here, to try and have some compassion for the addicts in our lives, but it has always been difficult.  My former friend dumped her kids on her loving parents then lived the high life, without a care in the world while her parents did all of the work raising her kids.  She didn't even help financially!  I have always been angry at her, and to see her father so sick and so burdened from her selfishness hasn't helped any.

Well, I am going to see her at the funeral on Saturday.  I am asking for your prayers to somehow find a way to be compassionate with her because if she dares to try and talk to me, I may give her a piece of my mind about how she has lived her life and how selfish she has been.  Years ago, when our daughters became friends, she told her daughter to tell me that she wanted us to get together.  Yeah...like that would ever happen.  I had moved on and cut her out of my life in our teen  years when she first started trying drugs and running around.  Why would I want to ever have anything to do with her now that she was a full blown irresponsible selfish crackhead?

I almost know she is going to try and talk to me like nothing is wrong, like time stood still since we were friends in high school, and I don't think I can take it.  When the Mom of a mutual childhood friend died, she showed up at the funeral with a SHORT skin tight PINK dress on,  tons of makeup, and asking to be introduced to every good looking man there.  She went looking for men to sleep with and get money from for her addiction.  She tried to be friendly to me and I just totally ignored her, how dare she come to our friends funeral looking like that!  It was a small funeral too, only around 25 people, so her horrendously disrespectful behavior really stood out.  And that was years ago, before she dumped her kids on her parents.

I am so sad and grieving so much for this gentle kind soul, who was like a loving father figure to me also, that I don't know how I will bear it if she comes to his funeral behaving like this again...or worse.

I am humbly asking for prayers that through my grief I somehow find some compassion for her and keep the tiny thought alive that SOMEWHERE in her crackhead hardened heart she cared a little for this wonderful unselfish man who never spoke unkindly of her, but who always kept the hope alive that she would come to her senses and get some help while he was still alive.  He never uttered a single unkind word about her.  I just can't believe what a horrible person she is...I hope I can remember all that I have learned about compassion for the addict in Alanon when I see her on Saturday...

Thanks,
MP