May 3, 2021
In my worst nightmare, I never could have imagined I would become a member of this club.
Over the years, when a friend or acquaintance lost a child, I felt devastated for them. How are they still standing? I cannot even imagine. I cannot let my mind go there.
I was convinced I could not survive that kind of loss or that unbearable pain. No, there was no way I could endure any of my children dying before me.
Well, I have learned many things in these last two months.
I have learned that when you lose a child, no matter their age, no matter the circumstances, you have to bear it. You have no choice. You have to because you cannot escape it. Whether you want to or not, you must continue putting one foot in front of another. You continue to live for the living and soon learn you must stop asking yourself the painful question every parent who goes through this must ask themselves hundreds of times. What more could I have done?
I have learned that grief like this is every bit as debilitating as I ever imagined. Crushing.
I have learned that we humans can cry more tears than we ever thought possible.
I have learned there are days you wonder if you will ever smile again or be completely happy because a black cloud has wrapped itself around you until you are numb, paralyzed.
I have learned there are others who cannot imagine this type of grief and may go so far as to tell you, “You simply need to push forward and get over it.” Be patient with them; they cannot imagine this, I tell myself.
I have learned friends and family will show their true colors. The majority will be incredibly comforting, the kind of human beings who are actually Angels here on earth, no questions asked. They love you and only hope to support you and care for you.
Then again, there will always be the others. They need more details, they cannot understand, and they are uncomfortable and cannot reach out. They bring you down even further, if that is possible. Forget them.
Be grateful for your Angels.
I have learned that the unexpected suicide of a loved one, in my case my oldest son Ray, is the most complicated debilitating grief one can deal with. It is uncomfortable. It is tragic and impossible to wrap your head around, much less your heart.
I have learned the hard way all the things NOT to say or ask a parent who has lost a child. Again, regardless of that child’s age or circumstances of their death, the parent can hardly speak or think clearly after such a loss. When a heart is breaking, one does not need to be asked the how, the why, or hear you pontificate your theories. All that parent wants and desperately needs is a shoulder, kindness, and a sympathetic ear.
I have learned that after you have lost a child, nothing relieves that gushing, ragged rip left in your heart. That open wound will live inside of you always, and as you heal over time and normalcy returns inch by inch, that wound will harden into a scar that is imprinted on you forever.
As I mend, I will carry on. I will laugh again and wrap my family and friends in the most intense love I can. I have my beloved children and ten amazing grandchildren to live for and my dear friends. And there’s my husband, my rock, who will stand by my side always.
Lastly, the hardest lesson I have learned is that our future is an unknown, no matter how we envision it or try to do all the right things to protect ourselves and our loved ones. I thought I knew that fact, but I really didn’t. How could I have?
Mar 2, 2021
Already March 2021… Last year on March 1st Gene and I were in Washington State. We had traveled to see our grandson Jake, play baseball at Central Washington University, and had a perfect weekend: a cozy romantic Air BNB complete with a rushing stream flowing past, fun dinners with Jake and his college pals and baseball game–watching in frigid freezing hurricane force winds. (well, that part wasn’t exactly perfect but it truly was a crazy time we will never forget) Heading home in our rental care we encountered beautiful blizzard-like snow on the freeways headed back towards Seattle airport and we were eager to get back to warm toasty San Diego where the sun was shining.
Little did we know that would be our last trip for an awfully long time and within two weeks we would be in lock down because an extremely scary virus invading our country. Would we have believed the world as we knew it was slowly shutting down with what would soon become the frightening speed of an avalanche? Like everyone else, I do not think we could have comprehended the magnitude of change that was in the works.
Life continued and like everyone else we stayed home, followed the guidelines to remain virus free and adjusted. We learned (maybe the hard way) that we had not always appreciated all the ‘givens’ in our lives. Just hopping on a plane and flying anywhere we wanted to. Hugging. Celebrating birthdays. Simply sharing meals with friends, classes, concerts, holiday gatherings…. oh how I missed the hugs, the face to face conversation with our children and not being able to fly and visit loved ones…. the list goes on.
I knew I would not take those wonderful ‘givens’ for granted ever again.
Despite the horrifying numbers of people dying and sick all over the world and the constant unsettling fear, despite the unrest and deplorable politics and violence raging around the country and regardless of so many mornings of awful news and saying out loud, “just when I thought it could not get worse…it is.” we all plowed on.
Gene created his spring summer garden, cared for the orchard, stayed busy with projects around our home and our acre of property. He even did most of the shopping that I did not do online, worried because of my underlying condition, asthma. We became the new human parents of a 7-week-old golden retriever puppy, our Layla Louise, and that little beauty took considerable energy and hours of our time. The perfect distraction. Like everyone in the world, I learned to Zoom and continued my classes and meetings virtually. The Memoir Association, where I am president took up many hours and kept me busy.
We were thankful we could maintain contact with our children and grandchildren virtually and the ones here locally stopped by for social distanced visits in masks outside on our patio. It was not the same, but we were thankful for that. Best of all a new (number 10) grandson was born during the COVID-19 year. Our little Arthur.
And then lo and behold, I finished my manuscript, a fifth (at least) draft of my book and submitted to a few agents and to a publisher that I had admired from a far. Last summer I received an email. She Writes Press was interested in my book! I was thrilled and scared to death at the same time, but mostly I must admit I was a bit ecstatic. Signing a contract with She Writes Press – Brooke Warner, was something I had dreamed about and it was coming true.
Right now, I am in the Spring 2022 cohort and my memoir, You’ll Forget This Ever Happened has a pub date of May 10, 2022!
Needless to say, that has kept me focused on the future and relieved so much of my COVID-19 fatigue. Gene and I have done this together. Without his continued support and belief in me, I wonder if I would have ever gotten this far with my story.
I hope this finds all of you feeling more hopeful and proud of the strong survivors that you are. I thank you for reading my words and for being a shining light for me. I hope I can be for you as well.
I feel there is light at the end of this long tunnel we have all traveled together. The grey clouds are lifting and let us look forward to a healthier world in more ways than one.
Until next time.
Laura
Dec 29, 2020
I will not say “what a year!” It sounds so cliché – so redundant now.
We exhaust ourselves saying it. We exhausted ourselves living it. But if you are reading this, we did live it, and we are thankfully still here to talk about it.
Instead, as we approach New Year’s Eve I will say “I have never been happier to see a year over with in my life!”
Even the worse years I have suffered did not include the world suffering along with me and although that fact made our lives so much harder, it did teach us, we are one, how insanely lucky and clueless we have been, and how quickly what we take for granted and love can screech to a halt.
This year cut our lives down to size. I hope our world has learned that lesson well.
Although the months of 2020 seemed to drag on like a continuous loop of Groundhog Days, when I look back at the months of little or no physical contact with our kids and friends, and the zapped creativity or motivation I suffered, I must admit, the year held beacons of light. For me it was not all COVID-19 related uncertainty and loss of what we considered normal. I, like so many of you, have experienced, despite the worry for our loved ones, some very wonderful things that happened along the way.
I do know for certain that I learned to appreciate all of you who stayed in my life and by my side and supported me in my writing during this time. You assured me my words were important and that my story deserved to be told. You kept me working on my book and ultimately finishing it. You are the ones who pushed me to submit my work and I did. What a scary thing that was for this new author – me.
After three years and 5 drafts I realized I had finished my book. I submitted it and sent out to a handful of manuscripts to Beta Readers (by the way they brightened my days with their reviews and critiques, and I am ever grateful). I had zoom conversations with editors, publishers and agents about my book summaries and they all instilled confidence in me. I submitted to a publisher I had admired from afar and this Fall I signed a publishing contract with that very publisher and Yes! my book will be published and available in the Spring of 2022.
What a journey and what a learning curve for me this writing has been. Many a day I shake my head and think how lucky can I be to have this sparkling new writing life after living all the other lives I have? And I marvel at the fact, it really is never too late.
During all of my book angst another amazing blessing occurred in our lives when our tenth grandchild arrived in the midst of summer, COVID-19 everywhere. Brand new baby Arthur! A reason to rejoice and to see life continuing in such a miraculous yet perfectly normal way. For all time, the universal hope for the future has been a new life.
Then yesterday I celebrated 40 years of marriage with my dear husband, Gene and although it was a quiet and simple celebration of just us two, it was glorious and just what it needed to be. My best gift of all is the health of Gene and myself along with our family’s steady well-being in such a year. That enough brings me tears of joy and whispers in my ear “keep the faith.”
So dear friends I thank all of you for reading my words for awaiting my book and with renewed and gracious heart I say farewell to a devil year and welcome with open arms a year that promises to have rejuvenated faith in our country and our world. Hope is tangible in the air and I take in great gulps of it.
My wish for you in 2021 is never-ending faith and hope, a renewed love of life, and of many family and friend gatherings once again with a celebration of a kinder, healthier world.
Laura L. Engel
Dec 2, 2020
May 22, 2020
Corona Virus.
When I first read the reports in January. I thought, what is a corona virus? It seemed so far away. I did my ‘go–to–reaction’ when something or some word left me uneasy or when that little red flag warning flickered inside my chest. My go to was a U-turn in my brain to think about something pleasant. Perhaps start reading a new book.
Besides, I was consumed with grief in Jan. My husband Gene and I were both morning the loss of our beloved 9-year-old Annabelle. Our golden girl. We had loved that dog so much and our grief was equal and all-encompassing to the love we had felt for her. I did not have time to worry about no virus. Plus we had had our flu shots.
Covid19.
In February, we were in Washington state, cold with frigid winds, when I became aware of the fact that Seattle was experiencing deaths from this covid19. I tried to turn off the flicker which grew a bit stronger in the almost empty airport as we headed back to San Diego with reports of the virus blasting from every gate.
I had other things to think about. We had been visiting our grandson at his university. It had taken our minds off our grief, softened the sadness of losing our dear dog. We had lots to do and renewed energy for when we returned home. I had sent my manuscript out to beta readers. The SD Writers Festival was coming up. Lots to do. No time to worry about no virus.
Corona Virus deaths.
That tiny flicker started growing – burning steady as March blew in. The statistics were not promising. At that time the virus seemed to target seniors. Gene and I are both in our 70s. I have asthma. “But it’s under control.” I say a loud. “But you have had some serious breathing issues in the past, and high blood pressure.” As always, my devoted Gene is worried out loud.
I try to change the subject. Change my thoughts. I watch the news and shake my head. What does this all mean? Shelter in place? Social distancing? Masks? No Masks? Hand sanitizers? Wash wash wash hands?
I reach out to my children. I repeat the precautions to my adult sons, shelter in place, social distance, masks, wash, wash, wash your hands. Depending on what part of the country they live in determines their concern for safety and what is going on in the country. Kansas, Louisiana… not as concerned. The sons here in California are most concerned and already starting to work from home and sheltering in place. The governor has asked all Californians to stay home, schools are closed, no events, no restaurants, no gatherings of more than 10.
The flicker expands in my chest.
News gets more frightening daily.
I try to do my ‘go to – buried head in the sand routine.’ I turn off the news and concentrate on my manuscript. Think positive. Think future. I tell myself. This too shall pass. To distract myself I start thinking up ideas for a baby shower in May for our 10th grandbaby, due in June. Work on next step now that I have completed my manuscript. Which publishers to send to? Our Writers Festival is postponed. Everything on Zoom now. Before covid19 I hardly knew what Zoom was. Our SDMWA meeting cancelled. Zoom. I cancel our Finches book club at my home. Zoom. Our classes are closed. Zoom. Zoom Zoom.
God who knew Zoom would be a lifesaver.
Ventilators. Covid19 cases doubling daily. Hospitals running out of beds, supplies. Mask shortage. Masks? No Masks? The stock market–crashed, crashed, crashed. Businesses folding. Unemployment staggering. Bad News. Scary News. There will be a vaccine. Soon? Not soon enough.
So much conflicting news. By the end of March, that flicker is ablaze. It never lightens up now.
I tell myself thank God all our family and friends are doing well. So far. So good. And we are too. We are still sheltering in place. We are extremely cautious. We are still smiling most days. It’s a good thing Gene and I like each. Together 24/7 after 43 years is a lot of togetherness for two independent people. We decide how insanely lucky we are. How our love for each other still magically colors our days. Pinch me.
Everything still shut down. Clamped down tighter than before. Healthcare providers call and cancel our April appts. You can Zoom your doctor if you absolutely must, they say. I have not left the house in a month. Gene, only for groceries, necessities, clad in mask, gloves, antibacterial wipes in hand. It’s as if I am sending my knight in shining armor out to do war.
That flicker is raging now. It is April. Life as we know it has screeched to a halt. News too terrifying to watch. In the still of the night as I listen to my husband’s light snoring, I reach for his hand. He half wakes and squeezes mine. We have lived a good life together, through rough patches, through glorious bright days. But, our children. Our grandchildren. What will their lives be like? Will this ever end? When will their lives be easy again? Will all changes be for the best? Is this the end?
Protests everywhere. Seems like half the country wants to escape out of their homes and resume life pre-covid19. There are confusing reports daily. We see a lot of complaining screamers, demanding their rights to return their ‘normal’ lives acting out like spoiled children, oblivious to scientist and brilliant medical experts. They want their beaches back, their bars, their hair salons, their lives and jobs. Who can blame them? But is it too soon? Is this really happening?
Mixed messages daily from an administration obviously not equipped to handle this crisis. ‘There may be a vaccine by end of year… there will not be a vaccine for a year.’ Social media is in overdrive. Many lament it is the end of the world, still many remain positive, their faces to the sun, refusing to fall victim to the negativity. The daily briefings make one’s head spin. One thing for sure, our economy, our world, travel, education, life as we know it has turned upside down. I have not left the house or yard in 2 months.
Mid May.
The flicker is steady, eased up, but there. People still dying. But the air is cleaner than it has been in decades. People are cooking more, walking their neighborhoods more. Maybe we are learning how important our connections with our loved ones really are to us now that we miss them daily. Country opening up. I watch with a let us see what happens next attitude. I remain cautious. Vigilant. There comes a time I settle and accept. There comes a time I look for the good. I calm myself at night when the worries of the future bring tears to my eyes and trembles in my body. I brace myself for what may happen, or what may not. I grieve for what was and that I didn’t even realize what we had. I tell myself I will learn from this, as will the whole world. Be brave I tell myself. This too shall pass.
I hold it together on this very different Mother’s Day. I get calls and texts, smiling facetimes from all six of our adult kids and few of the grandkids. I miss their hugs, touching their faces. I am grateful for any contact and for their health and happiness.
Gene and I enjoy our new puppy. I push myself to write, to go to my Zoom classes, meetings… I try not to hurt inside when I realize there will be no baby shower and I may not get to hold that new grandchild being born in June for who knows how long. I certainly will not be allowed at the hospital for his birth. I tell myself I will not permit myself to enter that road to self–pity. I chastise myself if I flirt with that road.
“Look how lucky you are? Look at the good.” Still, I worry about the virus.
I stare out the window. Spring is beautiful as ever. Maybe more so. And there is hope. There always is.
Laura L. Engel
May 2020
Dec 17, 2019
As the Holiday Season peaks and we rush head long into Christmas along with the closing of 2019 this is a love letter to all who have supported and cheered me on with my writing this year.
Many of you have asked so I wanted to let you know where I’m at with my memoir, You’ll Forget This Ever Happened.
While working on my book this year I experienced some thrilling moments, hours and weeks on end, but with it came hours and weeks of tragedy and loss. In the first half of the year two of my beloved girlfriends lost their husbands to cancer. That was especially hard to see them struggle and find their way after losing their greatest loves, their partners in life.
Within a month my best friend of over 60 years, my Nancy, died at 69 from cancer as well. She and all of us thought she had more time, but she had a swift decline and with that decline she took part of me with her. Just when I felt stronger after that incredibly hard loss, one of my baby brothers, Tommy passed away. He was 64. His death was not as much of a shock, because he had been in terrible health, but my heart split in two again.
Life has a way of handing out the hard times and then rewarding us with many blessings that sometimes we miss when those hard times consume us. I experienced this phenomenon all throughout the year.
As I reeled from the hurt and loss, I had to stop and realize that overall our family was well and healthy. Our 6 adult children, their spouses and partners were doing well in their careers and their children, our nine grands, were thriving as well. Our youngest son married the love of his life and now at the end of the year we learned the glorious news that we will be welcoming our 10th grandchild next summer.
Many times during the year I pinched myself as I sat writing and rewriting my book as I realized how far we had all come over the years. I would look at my husband, Gene and think about our long and windy road of a marriage. We will celebrate our 39th year of marriage next week and there is still no one on earth I would rather spend life with than him.
Good things happened with my continued path of writing my book. I was active in writing classes and served as President of the San Diego Memoir Association all year. I was fortunate enough to attend a first-class writing conference in Pennsylvania in July, attending a play lab, where I wrote a short skit about my story. I experienced Yale and New Haven, Conn. with a dear friend and my high school journalism teacher who I had not seen in 53 years that same month.
In April my author web site came alive. I found myself incredibly fortunate to be asked to do an interview with Dani Shapiro on her fantastic podcast, Family Secrets. Within weeks they hit over a million in listeners. If you haven’t listened to it, please do. https://www.familysecretspodcast.com/podcasts/the-secret-son.htm. Many of you have reached out to me during the year after hearing the podcast and I appreciate each and every one of your emails.
In June I won a place for the third year in a row in the San Diego Memoir Showcase contest, meaning a third publication under my belt in 2020. It was just as thrilling the third time to hear this news as the first time in 2017.
And all through the busy and eventful year I worked on my 3rd draft of my book. I had it edited again and now I am in the process of finding beta readers for my book. I have revised, edited it until I cannot see straight and have good news, I am closer than ever to publishing.
And this is what I wanted to tell you most of all… that your continued interest and inspirational stories have kept me going. It is not easy writing a memoir, well writing anything that you plan to publish and share with others. Life gets in the way, procrastination looms, self doubt flourishes, yet you forge ahead.
I have plowed through so much research when I wasn’t sure how much to trust my memories from 52 years ago. 1967 was a long time ago! At times I found myself angry once more at the injustice in the way unwed mothers were treated at that time and how adoptions were handled. But the fact that my son is back in my life and we are connected in such a powerful way has softened that anger and frustration. I am truly striving to live in the moment and not the past as I spend hours writing about the past.
What are you doing for the holidays? I’d love to hear from you.
This Christmas will find us with our family here at our home in So Cal. As busy and chaotic as that gets is there anything better? Through laughter and tears over the years, there is one thing I know for sure. For me just hearing my grown children tell their stories of our past Christmases as they roar and watching my grandchildren grow, their eyes shiny and bright, and having my husband look over at me with love in his eyes, well… there is no better gift.
I wish all of you a lovely holiday spent in the exact way that you find the most joy and please know I am forever grateful to each and everyone of you who have signed up on my website, www.lauralengel.com.
Good health and cheer and here’s to a blessed and joyful 2020.
Warmly,
Laura L. Engel
Dec. 2019
Jun 24, 2019
Last year I attended IWWG Summer Conference at the prompting of my IWWG friends, Deborah Reed and Lisa Shapiro. It was my first writing conference and I was simply mesmerized by how important and fulfilling it was. I have to say it exceeded all of my expectations and I loved each and every session and moment there. I was one of the twelve that Maureen Murdock had in her limited Advanced Memoir Class and I took Dorothy and June’s classes as well. I had the opportunity to meet Dixie and Hope and was in Judy and Susan’s critique class. I loved the evenings and your short plays were the icing on the cake, with my friend and suitemate Lisa writing one of them.
Right now, I take memoir workshops and am in a read and critique class as well as serve as President of the San Diego Memoir Writers Association. Two of the scenes from my memoir in progress have won in the San Diego Memoir Showcase and have been performed on stage, an honor I never expected to happen.
You see, I retired from the corporate world three years ago and began to take classes and settled in to write a family history for my sons, something I had never seemed to have time to do while working full time. One of the classes was The Artist’s Way and in that class I felt the creativity that I had stifled for years begin to bloom. I also began writing a list of gratitude and intentions every day along with my Morning Pages. Without planning to, I began writing secretly in my journal about the trauma I had experienced as a teenage unwed mother in 1967 in New Orleans. This was something I held as my darkest secret. Even my grown sons did not know the story, only my husband knew the full story of how I had been forced to relinquish my newborn son for adoption. I had never known what happened to my first born son and I had mourned him silently and secretly for 49 years.
I began to write about that time in my life for the first time and to add “find Jamie” (my baby’s crib name) to my list daily.
Within six months, my son found me through Ancestry.com DNA! It was a miracle in my life and the most amazing beautiful thing, something I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams when I was that heartbroken young girl all those years ago in the 1960s. My son and my reunion explicitly rocked my world! And his too!
The last two years have been truly amazing. I thank God every day for this second chance with my son. Although we’re separated by a distance of 2000 miles, we stay in touch and visit each other often.
After our reunion I shelved the family history project and began to write my memoir about that period in my life. I went from being unable to utter the words to wanting to tell the world the story. I have finished my 2nd draft and ready to go to editing yet again. I created my website to start blogging about the story and the book, and my writing experiences are broadening quickly. Recently, I was fortunate to have author Dani Shapiro ask me to be interviewed on her Podcast series, Family Secrets.
Since attending the IWWG summer conference at Muhlenberg, my life has taken on a totally different direction than I ever dreamed.
