When I was at Hair the other day I saw my life on stage. This morning, as I read the New York Times obituary of former First Lady Betty Ford, I saw my life in print.
In discussing her addictions to pills and alcohol, Times staffer Enid Nemy writes "Her loneliness was compounded by low self-esteem and a debilitating self-consciousness about things like her lack of a college degree." Change the pronoun and you have my story. In the dark days of winter 1990 I was paralyzed with pain. Not the physical pain I've been suffering lately, but the mental pain of being lonely, miserable and ashamed of my degree-less, aimless life. It was a very difficult time for me, and for us. Luckily, just as Betty Ford's husband did, mine stuck by me; I survived, I went back and finished my BA and I blossomed.
Ford wrote in Betty: A Glad Awakening "on one hand, I loved being 'the wife of'; on the other hand, I was convinced that the more important Jerry became, the less important I became." Amen to that, sister! I was with Ransom Wilson, one of the world's most famous musicians, but I felt of no importance whatsoever -- except to him, and I will be forever grateful that he made that clear; without that I would have had nothing at all.
When confronted by her family and friends about her drinking and her abuse of pills, she denied it and called her family a "bunch of monsters." I may not have had that exact experience, but a read through my journals shows clearly that I both knew and yet denied the extent of my drinking.
The obituary goes on to point out the relaxed, friendly atmosphere the First Lady established in the White House, compared to the approach the Nixons took: servants should be rarely seen and never heard. Again, this is me. Just last night I was talking to Dan about how well I always treat staff (waiters, cashiers, etc) and how friendly I am with them. Formality in relationships is not something the First Lady and I appreciate.
Betty Ford inspired millions and, through the Betty Ford Center, directly helped and changed the lives of thousands. Here our life stories diverge, but I have grown from her example and I take strength from her story.
No comments:
Post a Comment