We Can Rebuild Her

“My hands are small, I know. But they’re not yours, they are my own.” ~ Jewel

“So, what are you doing for yourself these days?” It is a question that people of my age and situation are frequently asked. My children are grown and living independently, my spouse is transitioning towards retirement, and our house and its related needs have been substantially downsized and simplified. For the last five years, I have been enjoying a life of little structure or responsibility - a sort of post-children/pre-grandchildren golden window. It’s been heavenly.

For the first half of this period, I wallowed in the freedom. I joined a fitness center where I developed a new inner awareness from yoga and a lingering case of tendonitis from pickleball. I joined book clubs, binged dark Scandinavian crime dramas on Netflix, and took long walks on the town beach and luxurious naps on my sun porch. 

The days slipped by peacefully for quite a while, but eventually a restlessness emerged, followed by a growing desire to rebuild my life with some more substantial pursuits. After a diet of small plates, I was ready for some entrees. But what do you choose to do when you have the time to do anything? And what are the places within you that you still want to nurture? Determined not to return to the overscheduled life of my parenting years, I began to selectively rebuild my days, one interest at a time. 

Our family history with adoption led me to a Community Volunteer position with the Massachusetts Foster Care Review Unit, an independent state agency designed to act as a safety net for children placed in foster care. Helping to ensure the health and well-being of these vulnerable children is often uplifting, occasionally upsetting, but always profoundly rewarding. It has added a very real element of purpose to my life and regularly inspires me with examples of remarkable courage and healing. It was also a first step towards rebalancing my time and an acknowledgment of how good it feels to be engaged in something completely outside of myself.

More recently, Maureen reached out to me with the idea to create this blog as a way to share our cross-country conversations with a larger group while also developing a platform for her book project and my photography. I was thrilled at the thought of building something unique with Maureen, but I was also a little frightened by the prospect of sharing my writing and exposing my thoughts in such a public way. More essentially, I wondered if I really had anything worth sharing. During the course of the last year, I have let go of these thoughts as I have found an unexpected amount of satisfaction in the writing process and a growing confidence in the validity of my voice. The experience has fulfilled a creative impulse that so many of us downplay or resist out of fear, self-doubt, or an unnecessary demand for perfection. For me, another itch has been scratched.

The last piece of my rebuilt life has just fallen into place. I recently accepted a volunteer role as the Director of Development for a regional orchestra based in my new hometown. In my earlier life, I worked for the Boston Symphony Orchestra, first in their development office and later as the President of their volunteer association, so the position is a natural fit. It has sent me scurrying to dust off boxes of fundraising knowledge that have been stored in the attic of my memory for years, and I sometimes feel a momentary surge of panic when expectant faces all turn to me with “Donna, what do you advise?”. I am once again learning and pushing myself in new ways and the fun of doing so within a circle of creative-minded people has been nothing short of wonderful.

While I was raising my children, I worked to provide a balance of opportunities that would allow them to engage their interests, express their creativity, and develop an awareness for the world around them. In the process of fostering their passions, I let my own slip. It is only now, in the last two years, that I have finally reestablished this balance for myself through the discovery of new pursuits and the recovery of old ones. The human need to stay useful, engaged, connected, and valued doesn’t change with age or situation, but it often requires adjustment. In fact, it can thrive on it.