Okay, I need to share this - precisely because of the nature of this trigger.

Hubby's sister and her husband are here. Two of my very favourite people. I love being with them. But lately, we've been spending more time than usual with hubby's side of the family. I love his family, and this isn't about them - it's just that being with them has triggered another "new" awareness of loss.

Whenever his family gather together, whether it be his daughter, son, siblings or cousins, they do what most families do - they share family stories. In hubby's case, much of this is done in French which I can't understand well or participate in at all. That's my fault, for not being more diligent about learning French. I accept that. Add to that, because I'm his second wife, there is a huge part of his life that I wasn't a part of anyway. So I don't know the language, the people involved, the histories they're talking about or the circumstances surrounding the stories.

So, I've accepted this, often I just bring a book and find a quiet corner and read while all of this story-telling is going on. And I've encouraged and supported him 100% in spending as much time as possible with his family.

But this week, it really hit me hard when I did try to participate in the story-swapping by sharing a relevant story from my own family. It was not received, it fell into a deep dark black hole...they just stepped right over it as if I hadn't said a word and the conversation immediately switched to French, not intentionally, but effectively shutting me out once again. It's just the way it is, always has been, always will be, and I've long accepted that.

But this time, what hit me so hard was the realization that I have NOBODY LEFT to share my stories with - there will never again be a gathering of my side of the family, and there will never again be a "safe" place to share, and nobody left to listen to, laugh at or care about MY family stories...there is nobody left who genuinely wants to hear those stories, who knows and would be interested in any of the people involved.

I tried to explain this to hubby, but he can't understand the immensity of that loss. His response was to remind me of all of the losses HE has suffered lately and that he's hurting too. I was taken aback, because I've been very supportive of him in his losses, even while in excruciating grief over my own. But the fact still remains that he still has four siblings, two children, two grandchildren and tons of cousins - all of whom we visit frequently enough to keep HIS family stories alive and well.

I've had a rough few days over this. It really makes me feel so terribly alone. But do you know what one thing has helped me more than anything? My miracle pants. Laugh if you want to, but everytime my mind wants to start thinking "who cares anymore", I remember my mended jeans and it makes me smile, because God knew that those would be a constant and unshakeable reminder that HE cares - about even the tiniest details of my life - including my family stories, and the sadness I feel over that loss. Being a story-teller Himself, He would understand.

I know I'm lucky to have hubby's family to lean against...they have long accepted and shown how deeply they love me. It's not their fault that I cannot participate in their family stories, though some of them (the sister who's here especially) do try hard to remember to include me in these family gatherings. But it will never be the same as having my own family to gather, story-tell and laugh with.

Maybe it would be easier/different if I had my own children.

But I do thank God for my beloved grandchildren - because I've been a part of their lives since they were born, someday their family stories will include ME TOO. We already tell stories, and some of them even include Gary! How wonderful is that!

Anyway, see why I had to share this here? Having "here" to come and share this story helps to lessen the "agony of absence". I'm so grateful that I have you and this safe place to share stories and triggers with.