A date for mediation has been set. But not for another couple of months.
In the meantime, perhaps it will be possible to think about Christmas. I do not want to be alone.
Mediation may be only a formality, as it seems that it may not be a serious exercise for the other side.
At least, perhaps for the time being, it will be possible to think about other matters. It is a compulsory procedure, but it does not, of course, mean that it will produce a result.
We will see. Perhaps I can relax a little. There is no point giving up at this stage.
In the meantime I am tired and grumpy. It has all been a most exhausting process, and for me it is my life and its future, whereas for the lawyers it is just another, probably routine, thing to get done.
My BIL thinks my latest effort in reply was a good one. Whether it makes a difference won't be clear for some time.
I hope I can clear my mind somewhat. Think of other things, and be able to enjoy the little, but important things of life.
Being, necessarily, obsessed, by what had to be done, has been most painful, and I have wondered whether my life for these past years has been worth anything. And I wonder further whether I will have the strength and wisdom to make good and positive decisions on whatever the rest of my life may bring. Or whether I am locked or have locked myself, into making the wrong decisions.
Is it possible to know these things, or do I blunder blindly into the void? Should I have folded up my tent and stolen away into that dark night? Have I acted wisely in choosing to contest my future, and trying to counter what I see as the injustices dealt out to me? If I do not try to counter them now, I have fewer grounds for complaint.
It is my desire to become free of it all, to be able to put it all behind me, and to take responsibility for my own fate. And not to have accepted injustices, but to have fought to set it right. I am not naturally combative, but I do have a passion for justice.
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6 comments:
I dob't think it is ever good to just let things happen to you. No matter how difficult a process, one must fight for what one feels is right. And no regrets. Even if the end result is less than hoped. Or more than ever dared to expect.
Don't we all blunder blindly into the void?
Just do the best you can by putting one foot in front of the other on firm ground as you go...
(If I could pass you a torch i would...)
Oh, Persiflage. Poor you. But of course you're right to fight for justice. It matters!
Persiflage: having read your post on Elisabeth's blog, I would just like to suggest:
1. I understand that Dr P had little or no interest in your family. Therefore, they may have concern that you have had a loss, and sympathy for you, but NO grief, regret or sorrow for the absence of Dr P. It's hard for them to really feel sorrow for you in that case.
2. Everything changes when someone dies, because they are no longer a threat. You relax, and appraise them differently from when they were a threat. They seem more benign and loveable.
3. The loss of routine is totally disorienting. "I have to be there for...lunch, dinner, empty the colostomy bag.." whatever.
Now you don't have to be anywhere at any time. No one needs you anymore.
This is the hardest bit to recognise and come to terms with: the biggest bit of loneliness: no one needs you to do stuff.
For girls of our generation it is a particular challenge, because our identity was always framed in terms of service to others, (well, in my case it was).
Best wishes: you will get through all this and prevail.
Frances, thank you so much for this comment, which is very helpful, and explicates to me much that I felt but had not teased out, or been able to realise. Rediscovering a sense of purpose for my life must, I feel, inevitably be slow. Knowing this, I do not wish to be hurried into making decisions about what to do with the rest of my life.
It is true, I think, that relatively few people have experienced Dr P's death as a personal loss - even with his biological family, as they were not a frequent or regular part of his life.
Sometimes it takes comments such as yours to explain and clarify the mire. You have gone to much of the heart of the matter.
That Frances is very perceptive! I do think our generation were/are defined by what we do for others---children, husbands, in-laws. I am not widowed, but I sometimes feel I might as well be, with the OC working in a distant city. I am independent and do fine, but sometimes, just sometimes I wonder what my purpose is anymore.....or if I have one. Good luck straightening out the path to your future!
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