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Getaclewis

I'm a ghostwriter and book editor - there are a lot of amazing and inspirational stories that deserve and need to be told... so I help shape and polish the writing first!

I'm a mom of two teenagers and the wife of an amazing man and, at heart, a loner who doesn't like to be alone. Some days, I want to jump on the bed and laugh joyously and, other times, I can barely suppress the temptation to crawl under the bed and hide from the world. Bi-polar? Nope... just a girl!...

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She Needs a Wife

She says she needs a wife.

I can understand why, since her life is filled with adult responsibilities tangled up with childhood yearnings, all while she is still learning to put one foot in front of the other.

Again.

The challenge of that particular task is not new to her. Years ago - many, many of them now - she faced the struggle of tackling each day without the numbing anesthesia of alcoholic indulgence. There were no easy answers.

"Don't drink."

Such advice didn't seem to ease her journey much. And so it took the strong shoulders of friends, the caring concern of family, the time-honored wisdom of structured counsel, the inner determination that often arrives only after extreme heartache. At last, the consuming need to numb began to fade and, in its place, a different ache took its place: She wanted to use her life in a new way. Finally, she recognized that, despite her lifelong suspicions to the contrary, she did, in fact, matter.

She wanted others to know the same was true about them.

She didn’t sit around, waiting for purpose to step into her life. She went out and found ways to impact the lives of the hurting.

It wasn’t particularly easy. Along the way, a dear friend and mentor passed away and her avenue as counselor in a private practice – one she’d found to be such a great fit – somehow lost its luster.

It wasn’t especially difficult, either. No matter which way she turned, her life touched others that were seeking warmth, encouragement, illumination, comfort, direction – hope.

And so she formed an organization, www.eclubsoda.com, ‘specially tailored to address the needs of the wounded strong – those who had formed an inner grit, whether they recognized it yet or not, through the struggles that had shaped them. Her dream was to help them evolve from the inside out – not merely for themselves, though she took each to heart, but also for the lives they would then touch.

It is a beautiful – and exhausting – pursuit.

At least she didn’t have to face it alone. In the best ways that couples lift each other along the stair steps of life, she and her husband complemented each other’s efforts in a mutual pursuit of meaningful contribution.

Or so it seemed.

When it is time to learn something new – or reconnect with something very, very old – life has a way of thrusting you from the familiar and smack into the unknown and often intimidating. At times, the only glimmer of fuzzy light is at the other end of a long tunnel of desolation, heartache and despair.

Cruel, but effective.

When her husband abandoned her, without a whisper of warning or attempt to communicate, the alphabet no longer spelled the same words. A hole ripped through her world and what had spelled challenge the day before now seemed insignificant and benign. Business paled as a priority and even eating became an afterthought.

Grief. Anger. Isolation. Loneliness. Fear. Devastation. Hurt.

“How can this be? How could he? Are you kidding me? What can I trust? Is this real?”

Back to square one in the wily game called Life, she found herself wondering – again – if she mattered.

But, oh, the difference that several years of mentoring within the organization she had created had made. In it, she had espoused the many practical lessons of living – the ones that helped you sift through the assault of emotions that routinely upend us all. Day after day after day, she had walked others through the sucking mire, holding their hands and hearts from near and afar, coaxing them toward courage and growth.

She had no idea she would soon need them to do the same for her. When that time came, they were there – by the dozens. Through their strength and the purity of shared wisdom, she learned once again to walk her own talk.

Still, it can be overwhelming.

Recovering from a drug has a measurable end in sight. Stop drinking and, voila, the first major step is past. What is that magic initiative when you are grieving? It seems the wound can never heal.

Perhaps the lessons she internalized so long ago will guide her toward survival this time, too: lean on the strong shoulders of friends, embrace the caring concern of family, trust the wisdom of structured counsel and honor the inner determination that often arrives only after weathering extreme heartache.

And, when she is disheartened and looks at all of the many tasks left undone that were once accomplished in the spirit of teamwork – a wife would come in handy, indeed - there is a bit of her own advice to heed:

When your heart aches, give to yourself that which brings joy - call a friend, garden or write toward understanding. When you need a hug, be there for someone who is lonely. When you are overwhelmed, pause.

When you are hungry, eat. Should you become tired, rest. If you feel anger, offer dignity where it has been lost.

When all else fails and the stacks of paperwork still dismay, make an executive decision and hire an unattractive secretary.

It’s what any good wife would do.