Year: 2013

Kitty purrs and puppy kisses for Christmas

Sue Fagalde Lick antlers on dogs, Christmas gifts for pets, dressing dogs, fur babies, gift-wrapping kitty, kitty purrs, pet names on Christmas cards, puppy kisses, treating pets like babies


My friend’s dog just died. He’s heartbroken. He took this dog everywhere with him, just adored her. He and his wife have human children and grandchildren who all live far away. In recent years, the dog was their baby. Now instead of celebrating Christmas, all he wants to do is cry. As a dog mom, I know how he feels.
For many of us, our dogs and cats are our only babies, and we treat them that way. Some people go overboard. I always feel sorry for the pets forced to wear reindeer antlers or jingle bells. That can’t be comfortable. Of course there are those folks who also dress their dogs and cats in velvet and fake-fur hats and coats or Christmas sweaters for the holidays.
Have you seen the YouTube video of the cat being wrapped like a Christmas present? You’ll laugh, I promise.You may also be tempted to watch the many other offerings there. They’re funny but also true.
How many of us hang up Christmas stockings for our fur babies or put gifts for them under the tree? Surveys have shown that nearly half of us give our pets wrapped gifts for their birthdays and Christmas. I actually don’t. My dog Annie tends to eat everything I give her, whether it’s food or not. Also, I don’t think she likes Christmas. I’m gone too much, and our schedule is all out of whack. But I know plenty of people whose pets are on the gift list.
Most of us consider our pets part of the family. But how far does that go? Do you put your pets’ names on your Christmas cards? For me, it depends on whether or not the recipient knows Annie, but there’s something about being able to write down multiple names that makes it feel more like a family. For a while in my younger days, I secretly hoped some people would see the name on my card and think I had had a baby. They didn’t need to know it was a dog.
How about you? Do you give your pets presents, dress them up for Christmas or include their names in their holiday greetings?
Bonus question: Does your family think you’re nuts?
Thank you for reading my blog and sharing your lives with me all these years. May your holidays be full of kitty purrs and puppy kisses.

Immediate help for childless holiday survival

Sue Fagalde Lick Great Gatsby, Hank Williams, Kathleen Guthrie Woods, Leonardo DiCaprio, Life Without Baby, Lisa Manterfield, movies as distraction, Netflix, Now is Good, Robert Redford, The Last Ride

Holidays making you nuts? You can survive. You will survive. Here are some things that might make it easier.

Life Without Baby: Holiday Companion. Lisa Manterfield and Kathleen Guthrie Woods, who write the Life Without Baby blog, have compiled their favorite holiday blog posts  into one 57-page e-book that just might help you get through these crazy days. Family traditions getting you down? Is it kids, kids, kids everywhere you turn? Tired of people asking when you’re going to have children? This little e-book offers advice for all those situations and more. Plus it’s fun to read. You can download it right now and be reading it just in time to face Christmas with a more positive outlook.

Watch a movie! Television being full of sappy specials these days, I’ve been using my Netflix movie subscription to the max. Last night I watched “The Last Ride,” which is a fictionalized story about country music star Hank Williams. So good. Not a baby or pregnant woman to be seen. Earlier this week, I watched “Great Gatsby” with Leonardo DiCaprio. Wonderful and also childfree. You could rent this version and the older one with Robert Redford and spend almost five hours in no-baby bliss. Another excellent movie is “Now is Good,” which is about a young woman who is trying to pack everything into her life before she dies of a fatal illness. No babies, and it’s very upbeat despite the subject matter.

If you’re into monsters, suspense, fantasy or romance, I’m sure there’s a movie out there for you. Go to the theater or stay home and watch it on your DVD player or Internet-connected device and forget all about your troubles.

Can you suggest some other great distractions?

Some Tidbits for Your Childless Christmas Stocking

Sue Fagalde Lick Carolyn Hax, childless at Christmas, Christmas for kids, frozen eggs, Gateway-women, Have Children or Not, infertility, Jody Day, older mothers
I’ll bet most of us are going a little crazy with Christmas only a week away. I was out of town for my dad’s surgery in early December (he’s doing great), so I got all off schedule. To catch up, I decided to do everything in one day: shopping, cards and decorating. For those inclined to try it, take my advice and don’t. About a third of the way through the decorations, I started sobbing. It was just too hard with no kids, no husband, and no family nearby. Why bother? The dog hovered around me, trying to lick my face as I dove deep into my pity party.
The next day I was over it and finished what I could, deciding I didn’t need to do everything I had done every year before. To be honest, not having children or grandchildren meant a lot fewer gifts to worry about. I had my presents in the mail before the post office closed at noon. Now I’m done decorating and almost finished with the cards. I’m finally able to listen to Christmas carols.
As we established in last week’s post, I don’t have any young children in my life. Everybody’s kids have grown up. But that’s not the case for lots of childless people. This time of year, they find themselves surrounded by people obsessed with making Christmas special for their kids.
In lieu of any brilliant thoughts of my own today, I offer a couple of articles that I think you’ll find worth reading. In the first one, Jody Day of Gateway-Women offers a powerful essay, “Childlessness is a Political, as Well as a Deeply Personal, Issue” on the difficulties of being childless at Christmas  and throughout the year.
This piece, “I’m So Glad I’ve Frozen My Eggs,” linked from the Have Children or Not blog, offers a fascinating look at one possibility for women who are worried about not being able to have children until after their eggs are too old.
Happy reading, and please try to enjoy all the good things about the holidays and let the rest go. As always, I welcome your comments.

Don’t let Christmas without kids get you down

Sue Fagalde Lick childless at Christmas, children's books, Christmas gifts for kids, feeling left out on the holidays, running away from Christmas


“Do you have children?” I was selling books at an author’s fair earlier this month when a children’s book author asked me the question, hoping to sell me some of her picture books.

 “No, I don’t,” I said.
“Grandchildren?”
“No.”
“Nieces and nephews?”
“All grown up.” I couldn’t wait to get away from her and move on to books for grownups.
It’s hard for people whose lives are immersed in children to understand people who have no little ones in their lives. At this time of year, most of my friends are busy buying Christmas presents for their kids and grandkids. They jam the toy aisles at the stores looking for presents that will elicit squeals of joy on Christmas morning. Meanwhile I’m looking at calendars, candles, books, and scarves because everyone on my list is an adult. Even the “kids” in our family are over 21 at this point, with no babies on the way.
Lots of people say Christmas is for children, with all this business about Santa Claus and presents. For those of us without kids, it can be a difficult season. Not only do we not have kids to shop for, but we’re thrown into situations with friends and family who are obsessed with their children.
I could preach about how Christmas is really about the birth of Jesus and how the focus should be on Him. For me, it is. It has to be. He’s the only baby coming to me this Christmas. Plus I work at my church as a music minister. But I know not all of you are Christians, and I’m not here to convert you.
No matter what you believe religion-wise, there are lots of good things to appreciate at this time of year: the food, decorations, gifts, time off from work or school, and time to spend with loved ones. Instead of focusing on what you don’t have, you might want to get involved in one of the charities helping others during the holidays.
People will ask about your children. People will try to sell you toys. Tell them the truth, that you don’t have any kids, but you do have a dog or a cat or a hamster. Or just change the subject.
You could even run away for the holidays. A friend of mine who has three grown children and several grandchildren is renting a timeshare at the beach far from any of them this year because some are going to their in-law’s home in the Midwest and the others drive her crazy. She and her husband plan to spend a quiet day sipping hot toddies and ignoring the insanity of Christmas.
If the holidays bring you nothing but pain, you might want to follow her example and run away until it’s over. Why not?
How are you surviving the holidays? Please share in the comments.

Don’t let people deny your childless grief

Sue Fagalde Lick being around babies, Childless by Marriage blog, childless grief, friends who don't understand, not having babies, not having children

Dear readers,
Of my 406 posts here at Childless by Marriage, the one that has drawn the most attention over the years is the one titled, “Are you grieving over your lack of Children?” It was published in 2007, early in the blog’s life and has drawn 205 comments. Most come from women who are struggling with painful feelings about not having children. Many seek advice on what to do about reluctant husbands and how to cope with their sadness. Some can’t seem to find anything to live for if they don’t have children.

It’s hard for me to know how to respond. I offer sympathy and some advice, but I don’t have all the answers. Each of us has to decide for ourself whether we can live without children and how much we’re willing to sacrifice to have them.

Over the years, I feel that we have built a community, and I hope you readers will read each other’s comments and help each other.

Meanwhile, let’s talk about this grief. It’s real. We have lost the children we would have had. It’s almost like a death. Our whole lives we will see other families with children and grandchildren and remember that we will never have what they have. It hurts bad. But people who are not in our situation don’t always understand.  They may tell us we’re better off without children, that we’re lucky to be free of kids, that all we have to do is adopt, that’s we’re exaggerating our feelings. They will unwittingly say and do things that cause us pain. Some of us choose to avoid people who have children, even staying home from activities with family or friends because we know we’ll be uncomfortable. People not in our shoes will tell us to get over it, to enjoy other people’s kids, enjoy the money we’re saving, and just move on. But it isn’t that easy, is it?

I have written here many times that it gets easier as you get older. It does, but the grief doesn’t go away. The loss is still there. Please support each other as much as you can. And don’t let anybody take away your right to grieve. The feelings are real. Be honest about them. As we work through this holiday season, let’s take care of each other as much as we can. Right now, let me wrap you in a big virtual hug. ((((((((((((( ))))))))))))). Thank you for being here.

.

Puppy love is the best

Sue Fagalde Lick dog moms, dog named Harley, fur babies, puppies instead of children, puppy shower
This is my baby Annie when she was just a couple months old.

At my first sight of Harley, I melted. Is there anything cuter than a Labrador retriever puppy? I don’t think so, but my dog is half Lab, so I’m biased. My across-the-street neighbors adopted Harley a few weeks ago. Their beloved cat Toby had disappeared, probably killed by a coyote or other local predator. The husband, Pat, swore they would not get any more cats. It’s too dangerous for them out here. He had always been a dog person anyway. And the wife, Paula, tried to go along with it, but she says the hole in her life was just too big. She didn’t have any kids, and she needed something to fill that need to nurture. So they got Harley.

Harley is cream colored, about eight weeks old now, small enough to carry around like a baby, soft and cuddly, but his massive feet promise that he’s going to be a big dog when he grows up. His bark is just a squeak. He’s learning about the world around him. Paula is already training him, taking him for short walks on a long blue leash and taking him to work with her every day. They are bonding like every mother and child.

Five and a half years ago, I had two baby dogs, Annie and Chico. My memories of that time are a blur of piddle, poop and chewed up furniture, papers, toys, and shoes. They were adorable. I took tons of pictures and wrapped my life around those dogs. They were my babies. My friends even threw me a puppy shower, complete with cake and presents. It was a beautiful and exhausting thing. And I’m glad it’s over. Raising babies, whether they have four legs or two, is hard work. I don’t want to do it again.

But oh, like those women who gush over human babies, I turn into a baby-talking mess when I see puppies, and I’m full of advice for the new “moms.” I’m rarely impressed by people’s baby pictures of little humans. They’re kind of funny-looking really. But puppy pictures, oh yes, I can’t get enough.

Like me, Paula married an older man, and she does not have children. But now she has Harley. I think we’ll be spending a lot more time together.

Is a dog a real substitute for a child? Probably not. But there’s nothing like a puppy to ease the pain.

Those Childless Moments Hit Hard

Sue Fagalde Lick aging parents, childless, childless grief, no grandkids, not having grandchildren
The other day I was walking the dog down Cedar Street east of where I live when a car pulled up and parked at a house just ahead of me. I watched as a gray-haired couple got out. They turned and looked toward the corner. The school bus had just let out its passengers, and now three children were running toward the older folks shouting, “Grandma! Grandpa!” I was barely past them before I started to cry.
Part of my emotion came from what’s been happening with my father. If you’ve been reading this blog, you know that I hurried to California last month when my dad became very ill with congestive heart failure and a blocked aortic valve. When I first got there, it looked like he could die any minute. He was so pale and so thin. Every time he dozed off, I looked to make sure he was still breathing. He rallied somewhat with the help of medication but faces heart surgery early next month.
While I was in California, we looked through piles of family photos of my grandparents and his grandparents. Dad showed me where things are in the house “in case I conk out.” We talked a lot about death, not an easy subject, but he needed to talk about it, and I needed to listen.
For my brother’s side of the family, Dad is “Grandpa.” But I never made him a grandfather. All I have to offer is myself and a dog. And I will never be a grandmother. Yes, my stepdaughter’s children called me “Grandma” for a while, but I haven’t spoken to either of them in years. They have their own grandmother and great-grandmother, but I don’t have any kids or grandkids I can claim as my own. My grandparents are all gone. So is my mother. In a few days, months or years, my father will be gone, too. So I cried as I walked the dog through our muddy streets on a cold November afternoon. It was just one of those moments.
Many of my readers here are younger than I am, wondering how it will be years from now if they never have children. I tell them it will get easier. It’s true. Once you get past menopause, once the time of worrying about whether or not you will become parents is over, you accept for the most part that your life is about other things than raising children. You get a lot more comfortable with the idea. But there will be moments like mine on Cedar Street when the reality hits you like a baseball bat and the tears come. As my dad is fond of saying, “That’s just the way it is.”
As always, I thank you for being here, and I welcome your comments.

Doing the Daughter Thing: Taking Care of Dad

Sue Fagalde Lick Care giving, childless daughters, daughter taking care of father, family crises, heart disease, widowers, widows
Dear friends, I spent the past month immersed in helping my 91-year-old father as he deals with severe heart disease and waits for surgery to repair his aortic valve. His condition had gotten so bad that I dropped everything here in Oregon and drove as quickly as I could to San Jose, California to help him. Not wanting to get caught as I did with my mother, I even brought a funeral outfit, just in case. Luckily I didn’t need it because I forgot the chemise that goes under the sheer blouse and it wouldn’t have been good to show up with a see-through top. I’m sure his electrician friends would have been impressed!
I fell into this odd role, part daughter, part substitute wife, cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, driving my father to his many doctor’s appointments and tests, and endless hours of talking. Dad can talk for hours without stopping, and he has many great stories to tell. But he also needed to talk through what’s happening to him, to try to make sense of the fact that the end of his life is coming soon, even if the surgery is a success. I think listening to him was more important than washing his shirts or putting three meals a day on the table.
While I was there, I got sick. I think it was food poisoning. Bad chicken. Dad got it, too, but I got it worse, and I’m still getting over it. Heck of a weight-loss plan. Luckily my brother had come from his home three hours away to take Dad for his angiogram. I wasn’t going anywhere that day. The next day Mike went home, and I resumed my caregiving role, still feeling like crap but carrying on.
Most of my work, including this blog, got left behind. Not only was I unable to get online at Dad’s house, but eventually it didn’t seem that important in view of everything else.
Ultimately, Dad’s medication helped him feel better, and I needed to catch up with things in my own life, so I came home. A big part of me feels like I should still be in San Jose. I’ll go back next month for the surgery, a relatively new alternative to open-heart surgery that is being performed in San Francisco.
What has all this got to do with being childless? More than you think. I often thought over the past month how different things would be if I had a husband and children. I would not fall so easily back into the role of care-giving daughter perhaps, and I could summon other people to help. Last Saturday, my brother, his wife, his son and his daughter-in-law went to visit our father. They did yard work, fixed the plumbing, bought groceries, made lunch, and kept Dad company as a team. I wish I had a team like that.
If I had children, they’d be adults now, and they could help “Grandpa.” They could also help me when I need it. And that would be sweet. But I do have friends, friends who took over my day-job duties, friends who sorted my mail and sent me my bills so I could pay them, friends who visited my dog Annie so she wouldn’t be lonely, and a friend who just invited me to join her family for Thanksgiving. Friends are not the same as family, but in some ways, they may be better. I can be my goofy self with my friends instead of the dutiful daughter or the mature aunt that the kids see as an old lady.
Although he has children, my father still spends a lot of time alone. My brother, my aunt, a couple cousins and I are driving him a little nuts with phone calls making sure he’s still all right, but ultimately, although he had a wife and two children, he is alone most of the time. Most widowed elders are alone a lot, even if they have a dozen children. If they’re lucky, they have great friends like I do.
This story is not over. This is merely intermission. Forgive the rambling post. So much has happened. Feel free to comment and share your thoughts and experiences.

Being childless does not mean you’ll end up alone

Sue Fagalde Lick childless and alone, childless in old age, taking care of aging parents, who will be there when you're old

When you reach a certain age, your parents get old and need help. Unless they die young, it’s going to happen. When my mother was dying in 2002, she had my father. I traveled back and forth from Oregon to San Jose to help, and I was at her side with Dad when she died. My brother and I helped plan her funeral, but Dad was the main caregiver.

For 11 years, my father has lived alone. He has two kids, but my brother lives three hours away, near Yosemite, and I’m 13 hours away on the Oregon coast. When Dad broke his wrist, I didn’t even know about it until after his surgery was over. He took care of himself afterwards. Ditto for his cataract surgery and getting a Pacemaker to keep his heart beating. He’s a strong and independent man. But now his heart is failing, and I have dropped everything to help him. He may or may not have open heart surgery soon. Right now, he’s pretty good sitting down, but if he does anything, even walking across the yard, he turns white and struggles for breath. He needs help, so I’m here. My brother comes on weekends. We’ll be here for whatever happens.

But you and I, dear reader, don’t have children. Who will help when our health fails? Yes, we have all heard that people who do have kids can’t count on them. We know about old people in nursing homes whose children never come around, but in most families, the children are there to help their parents.

So what do we do? Looking at a future alone can be frightening. My stepchildren won’t be around if I go to the hospital or get too weak to buy my own groceries and wash my own clothes. If I have money, I can hire someone to help, but that’s not the same.

Perhaps there are clues in what’s happening now. While I’m away, my friends in Oregon are taking care of things up there. Jo is tending my dog. Mary Lee and Jessie are filling in for me with music at church. Pat, who is my emergency contact with my doctors, is collecting my mail and sending the bills and other important things to me. She’s the one who drove me to the hospital and sat with me before my cataract surgery and the one who drove me to Albany in the dark when my husband died. Other friends brought food, cleaned my house and made sure I wasn’t alone.

You can’t count on children, but you can count on friends, as well as siblings, cousins and other relatives. And your spouse, of course, if you have one. If you feel like no one will be around in a crisis, make some connections now, and agree to be there for each other when things get tough.

It might be nice to have children to take care of us, but there’s a world of other people to turn to if we just look around.

What do you think? Do you worry about ending up alone with no one to help? I look forward to your comments

NOTE: I don’t have an Internet connection at my Dad’s house, so I may not be able to approve your comments until I can steal away to a coffee shop or wherever I can find Wi-Fi, but I will get to them, and I look forward to reading what you have to say.

Taking a stand on abortion not so easy

Sue Fagalde Lick Uncategorized

As you probably know, I’m Catholic. A recent Sunday was dubbed Respect for Life Sunday at our church. The readings and sermon were all about honoring life from conception to natural death. That means no abortion, capital punishment or euthanasia. In the afternoon, parishioners were invited to stand in front of the church holding anti-abortion signs. Abortion is murder, etc. They do this every year. I have never joined the line in front of the church. I considered it this year, but then I got an invitation to lunch and did that instead.
I’m a little uncomfortable standing in front of my community with a sign. I don’t know why. It can’t be any worse than the year I sat at the NOW booth at the county fair handing out gay rights buttons and condoms. Not that I don’t think condoms are a good thing, but the Catholic Church is also anti birth control, and I work for the church as a paid music minister.
I do think abortion is bad. I wouldn’t do it or encourage anyone else to do it. But I would never vote against a candidate just because he or she was pro-choice. It ought to be a deal-breaker, but it’s not. Usually I agree with everything else pro-choice candidates stand for.
What does this have to do with being childless by marriage? I was amazed by the number of women I interviewed who had had abortions. We don’t talk about abortion much in our society except at church, where we all supposedly agree. Although legal, it’s still mostly a secret. Many of the interviewees for my Childless by Marriage book were forced into it by either their parents or the man in their lives. In many cases, they aborted their only chance to have a child. Also in many cases, they had never told anyone about it.
I used to think a fetus was just a clump of cells, not a baby. If I got rid of it soon enough, that would be much better than being accidentally pregnant and unmarried. But now I have seen and heard too much to believe that anymore. As the sign on Highway 20 near where I live says, “If you’re pregnant, it’s a baby.”
Reading the various posts and blogs about having or not having babies, I see so much hate from the childfree crowd. For them, pregnancy is a disaster to be aborted. But babies are life, not just inconveniences. Women who give birth are not just ignorant breeders; they’re doing what God designed them to do. I know a lot of people disagree with this. Maybe you do, too, but that’s how I feel about it.
I think next year I will stand out in front of my church with a sign. Maybe.
How has abortion fit into your childless story? Please share.