I ask myself often, “What does my future hold?” I labor over that question in my daydreams. I have always believed daydreaming is good for one’s survival. A daydream gives the mind somewhere to wander when reality feels too heavy. It allows us, even for a few moments, to imagine possibility when we cannot yet see what is waiting around the corner.

At this time in my life, I live in a storm as I watch my Ultimate Concierge lose his ability to think and communicate because of vascular dementia. I do not sit around feeling sorry for myself. My deepest grief comes from watching him go through his private hell. I see him struggle to find words. I watch him try to communicate something to me that I desperately want to understand, and I cannot. My grief is tangled with anger, helplessness, and profound sadness because there is nothing I can do to change what is happening to the man I love.

He is trapped inside a body that no longer allows him to communicate as he once did, and in many ways, I am trapped inside an unconsolable grief. When I ask him how he feels, he can still say, “Fine.” Occasionally, another word or phrase comes through clearly. But much of our day is now filled with silence. We hold hands. We sit beside each other. We kiss. Yes, Darling, he can still kiss me. And I treasure that kiss.

When I Think About My Future

Facing my own reality, I find myself laboring over another question: How will I handle the loss of the love of my life and a future that may one day be mine alone? I have experienced widowhood before, so I understand something about great loss that I wish I did not know. Family members and close friends can love you deeply. They can sit beside you, telephone you, bring you dinner, listen to you cry, and surround you with affection. But the deepest work of surviving a serious loss is eventually a one-on-one experience with yourself. No one else can climb inside your heart and do the grieving for you. At some point, you have to decide how you will climb out of despair.

I already think about how I might do that. I do not dilute these thoughts or pretend they are not there. Right now, they are only daydreams because my Ultimate Concierge is still beside me and my place is here with him. I am his Florence Nightingale. But I also know myself. I know that somewhere inside this caregiver is a woman who will eventually have to find a way to live forward.

This story is not only for the woman anticipating the loss of her husband or partner. Serious loss wears many faces. It may be estrangement from adult children. It may be the end of a treasured friendship, the loss of a career, the loss of youth, good health, financial security, a beloved home, or a cherished pet. Loss changes the landscape. And after it does, a woman eventually has to ask herself: What am I going to build on this new land?

 

The Woman I Was Is Still Inside Me

I was once an extremely happy and upbeat woman. I had a large appetite for life. I traveled. I entertained. I explored. I dressed for the occasion. I loved people, ideas, beautiful places, beautiful things, and the thrill of planning what came next. That woman is still inside me. She has not disappeared. Life has simply covered parts of her with grief, caregiving, responsibility, and exhaustion.

Sometimes I wonder how I will find her again. My ideas seem enormous from where I sit today, so for now they live in my daydreams. I labor over them night and day. I imagine places I might go, people I might meet, interests I might pursue, and ways I might continue to be useful. And that word, labor, has been on my mind because tomorrow is Labor Day.

Usually, we think of labor as work. A job. A career. Something we have to do. But sitting here thinking about my future, I began thinking about another kind of labor. The happy kind. The kind of work that makes us laugh, makes us feel useful, creates something beautiful, and leaves us at the end of the day wondering where the hours went. That is the kind of labor I hope will always remain part of my life.

The Happy Kind of Labor

Darling, women work hard. We labor over our jobs, businesses, gardens, friendships, families, marriages, projects, plans, homes, and dreams. We work in offices, classrooms, stores, kitchens, boardrooms, gardens, and wherever else life places us. We sit at computers. We try new recipes. We keep calendars. We meet deadlines. We solve problems. And somehow, much of the time, we make it all look easier than it really is.

There is something wonderful about laboring over the things we care about. There is personal joy in having somewhere to go, something meaningful to do, and someone who is glad to see you when you show up.

Think of the small accomplishments that give you satisfaction. Finishing a project you have been putting off. Preparing a beautiful meal for your family. Finding the perfect gift for someone you love. Organizing the closet that has been driving you crazy. Watering your plants and seeing a new blossom. Helping another person solve a problem. Finally beginning the idea that has lived in your head for years. Those things are work. But they can also be pleasure. And perhaps that is one of the secrets to living a satisfying life: finding work, whether paid or unpaid, that gives something back to your spirit.

Women Are Natural Builders

Women are natural builders. We build homes and careers. We build friendships, traditions, businesses, families, and communities. We help build confidence in another person with a few carefully chosen words. We help our children build their lives, and then, when they are grown, we often have to learn how to stand back and let them continue building on their own.

We build atmospheres, too. Give a woman a garden and, chances are, she will find a way to make something bloom. Give us a table, some food, and a few free hours, and suddenly we have created an event. Give us an afternoon with absolutely nothing planned and what happens? Instead of resting, we rearrange the furniture, telephone a friend, clean out a drawer, make a list, start a project, or decide the living room desperately needs something new!

I am not complaining. I think it is one of our talents. Women understand the satisfaction of getting things done. We labor with love, imagination, and determination. We talk on the telephone while cooking. We think through problems while walking our pooches. We share stories while folding laundry, wrapping gifts, planting flowers, putting on our makeup, or getting dressed to go somewhere. We are magnificent multitaskers. And we can turn almost anything into an occasion.

A trip to the grocery store can become an adventure. A cup of coffee can turn into a reunion. A long walk can become therapy. And shopping for goodies? Darling, you already know how I feel about that!

Celebrate All the Work You Do

Labor Day is a wonderful time to celebrate all forms of work. There is the paid work that builds careers and businesses. There is the unpaid work that builds families, homes, friendships, and communities. There is the work we deliberately choose and the work life unexpectedly hands us. Caregiving has certainly taught me about the latter.

There is work we do because we love someone. Work we do because we are curious. Work we do because we want to create something. Work we do because we cannot resist making something better, prettier, easier, kinder, or more enjoyable for somebody else. All of it has value.

The older I become, the more I understand that meaningful work does not necessarily come with a paycheck or a title. Sometimes the most important work of the day is sitting beside someone you love, making the call, writing the story, listening, or simply getting out of bed when life has given you every reason to stay under the covers. That counts, too.

There Is No Age Limit on Purpose

Darling, there is no age limit on this kind of labor. A woman can start a business in her twenties or her sixties. She can take up painting or guitar in her seventies. She can learn to dance in her eighties. She can write a book, join a club, learn mahjong, return to school, study another language, volunteer, mentor someone younger, or finally travel to a place that has sat patiently on her bucket list.

There is always something else waiting.

• Another recipe to try.
• Another book to read.
• Another friend to call.
• Another place to visit.
• Another outfit to wear.
• Another tube of red lipstick to put on your lips.
• Another idea that taps you on the shoulder and says, “Try me.”

And sometimes our work is simply making a beautiful day out of an ordinary one. That requires talent, too. I think women sometimes underestimate the artistry involved in creating a good life. A life does not become meaningful only because extraordinary things happen. Much of life is ordinary. The magic is in what we do with those ordinary hours.

The Labor of Starting Over

Perhaps that is why I am thinking so much about Labor Day this year. I know there may eventually come a time when my labor will be the labor of starting over. I have done it before. After widowhood, I had to find my footing. After eight years of family estrangement, I had to learn how to live while carrying a loss I could not fix. Fortunately, my family returned to the nest, and we are now living the gift of reconciliation.

Today, my labor is caregiving. Tomorrow’s labor is unknown. That is where my daydreams enter. I do not know exactly who I will be when this chapter ends. I cannot know what I will want, where I will go, or how I will fill my days. I do know that I will need purpose because purpose has always been one of my great elixirs. I will need something to build, learn, help, look forward to, and, eventually, something that makes me laugh.

That knowledge comforts me. I do not have to know the entire plan today. I only have to know that I am still capable of creating one.

Celebrate the You in You

So, this Labor Day, I want you to celebrate the you in you who shows up early, stays late, keeps going, starts over, tries something new, and still manages to find time to laugh. Celebrate the woman who makes a living, makes a home, makes a difference, and makes the people around her feel loved and welcomed.

Celebrate the woman who understands that work is not only about making money. It is about making connections. Making progress. Making something with your hands. Making another person smile. Making memories. Making plans. And, most importantly, making a life that gives you personal satisfaction and joy.

And please do not take yourself too seriously! You can work hard and still have fun. You can be responsible and remain playful. You can accomplish something important and still take two hours for lunch with a dear friend or your daughter. You can make a plan and then change it because something more interesting comes along. You can keep discovering, creating, celebrating and daydreaming. Especially daydreaming!

What Does My Future Hold?

I began this Sunday Story by asking myself, “What does my future hold?” I still do not have the answer. Perhaps that is alright. Today, my life is beside my Ultimate Concierge. I hold his hand. I care for him. I kiss him. I protect him. This is the work that love has given me to do. And someday, when life asks something different of me, I will have another job. I will have to build again.

I will have to find the woman inside me who loves life and invite her back into the world. Perhaps she will look different. I know she will think differently. But she will still be me. For now, I daydream about her. I think that is healthy. Daydreaming reminds me that even in a storm there is still a horizon.

So this Labor Day, give yourself credit for all the work you have done, including the work no one else sees. Then give yourself permission to enjoy some of the rewards.

• Have the dessert.
• Wear the bright color.
• Call the close friend.
• Buy yourself the flowers.
• Start the project.
• Put on the red lipstick.
• Laugh loudly.
• And daydream!

Because labor is not only about effort. It is also about the pleasure of being alive, engaged, useful, curious, and surrounded by the people and things you love. Darling, happy Labor Day! And whatever your future holds, never stop imagining that there is something meaningful waiting for you on the other side of today. Amen.

What kind of meaningful “labor” brings you joy at this stage of your life? And when you daydream about your future, what do you see? I would love for you to share your thoughts with our community in the comments below.