sElf eSteam

                                     'Everybody is a star

Who can rain, chase the dust away

Everybody wants to shine

Ooh, come out on a cloudy day

'Til the sun that loves you proud

When the system tries to bring you down

Every hand to shine tonight

You don't need darkness to do what you think is right'

(Sly And The Family Stone - 1969)

As I was growing up, because of my birth given physical size and stature, it was up to me to establish myself among my peers. Being slightly shorter and lighter than most of the others, I may have appeared to be the automatic target of many of their remarks and pranks; it was a notion that required dispelling more than once as we moved and new mates were acquired. But my dad had prepared me well, giving me a few basic principals to operate with: 1. “Think! Know when to walk away…”... 2. ‘You have one mouth, two hands & two ears…listen well and when in doubt go to your strength…first action…’’. Now, for the most part I practiced theses things with varying degrees of success, but what knowing them really did was to give me food for thought on how to avoid unnecessary bullshit. My dad was not what you would call a formally educated man, coming from the South during the Great Northern Migration of the 30’s and 40’s he landed on the WestSide of Chicago with barely a sixth grade education and worked in the slaughterhouses early on. Later he became a baker and worked for what was at one time, a large confectionery concern in Chicago. Of average height and weight, he bore the marks of an upbringing, both mental and physical which no doubt had given him much experience in the field of human relations, and not just as a brawler; the man was a thinker. I miss him dearly. I’m sure his unique way of thinking came from his limited formal education, requiring him to develop and devise other techniques, through thought, to survive in this world. In dealing with us children it was his bent to always remind us that we belonged here and that how  we were treated in this world was up to us for the most part. Those lessons have stayed with me through the years, and later as an adult I was fortunate enough to be able to have that conversation with him which so many of us do not get the opportunity to have; that conversation when misconceptions and resentments as well as offerings of acknowledgments and gratitude are shared. It was my chance to let him know that I thought he was pretty great, and that I loved him for the way he had loved us and guided me and my siblings, and for how he had taken care of us. That it was soon after I had gained some measure of sobriety was a plus for him…he had practiced right up until our biological mother died when I was 5, after that I never saw him take a drink again. The only thing he ever said to me in regards to my own practice was "...son, you don't have to be this way...".

 In starting with this, I’m leading to what we think of ourselves, not only in the light of the grief we have come to know, but what we experience generally. It had not occurred to me that this was an issue during grief, but that is nothing new, there are many things about this journey which I am finding out and of which I did not have the slightest idea. In the various conversations I have, there have been times when I have heard someone put themselves down, unnecessarily in my opinion, for having certain feelings and emotions about the death of their spouse or partner and about themselves in general. That this would come under the heading of low self esteem had not come to mind for me, I had accepted it as a natural reaction to grieving. But as I listened more closely I came to hear more and more of it, and I began to think seriously about it in relation to myself and DJ’s death. It doesn't seem to be a major issue for me, but the jury is still out, I've only recently started to examine things along this particular line. It does however make sense to me that we might come up against this as we make the journey. How we view and what we think of ourselves can be impacted by the death of our husband, wife, partner and I think what we bring to that situation has a lot to do with how we respond to it and how it can help to shape our own self image during grief. “…I wasn’t good enough, so they died’’... maybe, if another companion interest is found and things don’t seem to be just right, notions of “ Why am I not enough…” may creep in…thoughts along those lines are probably normal tho not necessarily true. As I say, I don’t think I had that issue; I’ve always known that I was the greatest thing going since sliced bread, and I thank my folks for drumming it into us. But I think there are many other things that can cause us to think less of ourselves, dealing with the daily situations of life, we find there are compromises we have to submit to and deals we have to make to get along. These things can have a great effect on our self image. My dad had warned me about such situations and his lessons had been about discerning when smart thinking or decisive action was required to maintain a balanced sense of myself; being a light weight, I often leaned towards the thinking end. But I understood the point of the exercise; I shouldn’t have to walk away from any situation feeling less about myself, no matter what. It cannot always be that way, but we start all of it, any of it, with that idea in mind…first. Having the battle scars, both mental and physical is of little consequence when compared the better self image which can be maintained.

 An incident which occurred later in life, when I was in basic training in the service provides a personal example. As I sat on the edge of my bunk one day, another Trainee, obviously under the impression that we were there as members of some college fraternity undergoing hell week, declared that he thought I should be the House Mouse, a go-for or some type of designated pick on boy...as he passed my bunk, saying this, I came to full bayonet charge stance and engaged the rifle he was cleaning with my own... ''...En Garde! Parry Left, Forward Step, Horizontal Butt Stroke...'' I screamed at the top of my lungs, repeating the words and moves from the exercise we all had been present at earlier that day; totally surprising him, he backed as I executed each word and step, I held my stance looking directly into his eyes, gauging whether I would need to deliver the final move of that lesson. Stepping back in retreat, he mouthed '' Whoa man..." or some such thing...as others backed away, he returned to his bunk, saying he was only joking. Explaining to him that I understood that, and that it was just that which had made me move, I let him know that I did not consider what we were doing as a joke; those training NCO's were reminding us everyday that everything they were trying to teach us was designed to keep us alive, that we had to think in terms of life and death situations...and by the way asshole, you missed the first rule of the bayonet...there are only the quick and the dead. It sent a message to him and the others present that they might want to reconsider an ill, preconceived notions they may have had about me; and it also let them know that I might be the one they wanted to be next to when we entered combat. But the most important thing for me is that I came away feeling good about me. It could have been a situation which may have led to all kinds of questions about my self image; me, not liking what someone said and not saying or doing anything about it. For me, in this situation, the other side of what my dad had said came into play, it required action. I relate this not as some attempt to declare my toughness or aggressive nature, it depicts a situation in which my self esteem was directly involved; he had not approached that chunky fellow over there who looked like he threw cows for a living. There are some things no one can say to me and not be challenged on, consequences be damned...not even DJ.

 With grief I can see how it would be even more of an issue because such a close personal relationship is involved. Our wanting the best for the ones at risk drives our every thought and action; we constantly question…not our motives so much, but our abilities. For me, this is natural, this questioning, it’s the answers we get sometimes which can cause us problems. We have to remember that if it was left to us, they would still be here. We have to believe that of those things which we could control, we did our best to make the next right decisions, with no regrets now. Sure, it’s hard to do sometimes, and these things can get lost in the fog of grief. But, I believe at some point we must call them to the fore and squarely appraise them. It is understandable that some of us cannot do this, then, at that point, those of us who have a better grasp of ourselves should be willing to assist and remind the others. It’s called sharing and caring and it’s what we’re supposed to be all about. So we can listen more openly, think longer before answering maybe, try to understand beyond the façade most of us sometimes wear in order just to get through the day. But to help at all, we must first be aware and that’s what I’m trying to remind myself of by putting this piece down.

 Like I wrote earlier, for me, this knowing and liking ourselves has been understood for some time. In relation to DJ’s death, I had not really given it a thought because I know for certain that I did everything I could do for her. And I don’t know this simply because I say I do; I know it because if I had not, I would not be able to live with myself today…that she told me that she knew I had is an added bonus, but even if she had not, I am secure knowing I know, I did. We all know having self confidence and good self esteem is critical to our well being at any time in our lives and especially now, but we may need reminding; carrying unnecessary bullshit forward, into the different life can land us in that insanity circle.  We may want to take care and stay mindful of it’s possible impact on us during our journey. Now, I don’t have all the answers as to exactly what should be done when we might be faced with someone having esteem issues, or even our own. I do well to understand the basic idea that we should have good self esteem, for myself I'm starting with the idea that we are inherently worthy as it is my belief that the Power I believe in does not make junk. We can be pushed, bruised and battered towards believing we deserve less than what we should expect, but here, again, in most cases I think it’s up to us. One thing I am sure of…we cannot live the rest of our lives questioning decisions made about our partners, or our lives with them…or about why that new person didn’t call back…or text or why for all our efforts, we can’t seem to get what we want, when we want it. Feeling good about ourselves should be as natural as breathing, at least I think so and I believe we start at the top,that being the idea that we are worthy. But we are not powerless here, awareness and a sincere effort can probably not only make a difference to our own self image, but also that of those around us. Having adopted H.O.W. (Honesty, Open-ness, & Willingness) as some of the tools I would use in dealing with grief, I am required to examine this notion of self esteem and how DJ's death might impact me in that regard. 

 Of course I am not impervious to the forces of life and have had my share of things that did not go as planned…with the largest so far being my inability to control DJ’s dying. But like many other things that have tried to have me question my own value and worth, grief, tho powerful in it’s own right, for me, has to line up along side many of the other things I have faced in life. The lessons my folks, especially my dad tried to instill in me have served me well and have allowed me to survive events and situations which I otherwise fear I would not have. The simple fact is I like me, I don’t like some of the things I have done, or allowed to happen, but in most cases, those times have helped me to better understand myself and not make those same missteps again, at least not unknowingly. DJ’s dying did not make me like myself any less; it did make me dislike being alone…eating alone…driving alone…even thinking, alone…but I still think Fred is a bit more than alright.

Below I have added a photo of my dad and one from my senior yearbook; we would kid him about that hat and how he is wearing it. The one from the yearbook depicts me, then a member of our high school Drama Club, exclaiming to the young, but captive (and mostly giggling) audience my greatness, the fellow peeking around the curtain at the lower right was a friend who attempted to make me butcher my lines, him, delivering a stream of crude quips...from my posture and the look on the other cast member's face you can probably tell that he did not succeed. I don't know if being a member of that club helped with my self esteem, but I do remember having a lot of fun. And we know that living, loving, having fun and coming to terms with death, is really what this is all supposed to be about...we have to remember, if we can, that we're not born with low self esteem, I think in many cases it is usually something we come to accept...It's probably tacky to ask, but can I get an "Encore!"?