What the poet says, but for different reasons. For me, April is the month with the most unpleasant associations.
Tax day, for sure; I always panic come IRS time, even though I haven’t done anything wrong. (My tax guy at Block Solutions says his experience is that the honest people are the most nervous, whereas the push-the-envelope or outright sleazy types are completely fine with the annual forms.)
But April is also the month of my ex’s birthday and also our wedding anniversary. His birthday is April 1 – insert your own punchline here. (I certainly have.)
Our anniversary is much more troubling. That was the day I entered into what would become 23 years of gradually unfolding torment. As I was getting dressed for the wedding, my sisters and my mom joked that there was still time: They had fast cars and could sweep me and my daughter out of there.
Now I think maybe they weren’t joking.
On the other hand, if I hadn’t married him I would never have made it to Alaska – which changed my life on several levels.
Alaska was where I become a newspaper reporter. Had we stayed in South Jersey, my bottom-of-the-barrel self-esteem would likely have led to keeping my job as newsroom clerk at The Philadelphia Inquirer. It was a decent enough job with good pay, and I excelled at it: reliable, hard-working and the best speller among the clerk pool. Reporters loved dictating to me over the phone from Beirut or the Milan fashion show, because I wasn’t stumped by words like “guerrilla” and “peplum.”
At some point I wangled my way into freelancing, writing feature stories for the Inquirer’s entertainment and suburban features sections. Yet I knew I would never be hired as a writer: no college degree, no full-time journalism experience.
I thought about using those clips to apply for a reporting job in New Jersey or Pennsylvania. This was back in the day when most cities and towns had their own newspapers, or even more than one newspaper per city. (It was a long time ago.) But j-school degrees were thick on the ground in that post-Watergate era, which meant more potential employees than available positions.
The life I once had
I also thought about going back to school but couldn’t figure out how to do it. I had a 45-minute commute (sometimes longer, depending on traffic), and I was responsible for all the child care and housework. (See “An anomaly worthy of praise” for more on that.)
More to the point, I was already spending eight-plus hours a day away from my daughter. How could I tack on night classes and then weekends full of homework (and housework)? I felt bad enough about the freelance gigs, even though I was able to take her along with me to some of them.
The clerk job wasn’t a bad one. I enjoyed the excitement of the newsroom and the camaraderie with other clerks, and again, my lack of self-confidence made me think I was lucky to have the job. So had we not moved to Alaska, I’d probably have stayed put.
Then again, thanks to the slow death of print journalism I might not have survived the regularly occurring purges of newsroom personnel. Recently I saw a photo essay about the Inky’s much-shrunken staff. The giant workforce that once took up a big building we referred to as “the Tower of Truth” now operates on a single floor of the old Strawbridge & Clothier building downtown. One of the people pictured was a woman who was a clerk when I was a clerk. Apparently she’s still a clerk, 32 years later. She looks really tired.
The life I changed
If I hadn’t made it to Alaska, I wouldn’t have gotten the really interesting life I’ve had, writing about all sorts of topics, making some great friends (including DF) and getting a lot of freelance opportunities.
I might have eventually obtained a college degree from the state university system, attending nights and weekends once my daughter had grown and gone. But if I’d had the courage to pursue the divorce at that time, I likely wouldn’t have stayed at the Anchorage newspaper: My now-ex worked there, too, and I couldn’t have handled the stress.
Most important of all: If I hadn’t moved to Alaska, I wouldn’t have found true love in midlife. That is, I wouldn’t have found it with the guy who shares my life now, a man who is as close to a perfect match as there could be for someone as odd as I am.
So while I dread the approach of April, I also celebrate it. On the first of the month I think of my ex and make a rude noise with my lips. On our anniversary I shudder a bit, wondering whether I’d ever have followed through on what the psychologists call “suicidal ideation.” (Quite possibly.)
Or whether we’d have stayed in the Delaware Valley area, where I’d likely have turned into just another bitter and cynical Jersey Girl with tall hair, a fierce accent and prematurely aging skin from spending so much time down the shore.
In other words: Bring it, April. I still win. Even if you do have tax day.
Wait, you had a daughter when you married? No judgment! So, were you marrying her father, or was she from a previous husband? Or, whatever? I always assumed you divorced the father of Abby.
I have a similar story of going to school late. But, I had started at 17 and fought him the whole way and when I managed to enroll somewhere.
What ifs are certainly powerful eye openers.
I was the speller wherever I was.
April is a good month for me since the 16th is the date of my oldest child’s birthday.
You have managed to survive and thrive, so that is the best one can do.
I was 20 years old and unmarried when Abby was born. My now-ex adopted her.
Thanks, I didn’t remember that.
Nice essay! Interesting how things turn out, isn’t it?
Sometimes it was interesting as in, “May you live in interesting times,” but on the whole I’m glad I’m not in Philadelphia.
(W.C. Fields fans will see what I did there.)
I am sad for the bad reactions to dates in April with negative significance, but very happy for your success and happiness in your new life with DF. It is really interesting how our lives meander this way and that.
I am living a bit of a new life myself with my husband’s new found interest in keeping our new, dream home clean and tidy after 33 years of basically not lifting a finger to help me manage our household or keep it tidy. I read your “anomaly” article with interest. As always, great writing.Thanks for sharing.
Great stuff Donna!
April is my birthday month ( I was born a day too late to be claimed on the income tax that year!), and spring in Florida – which lasts about a minute) is still around and the best time of year in these parts, IMHO – so I embrace it!
Gasping like a goldfish on the floor after reading “an anomaly” link.
In a good way…?
I felt like I was reading my story! Hopefully I will have a happy ending too.
I hope so, too.
I’m sorry it’s been a journey of ups and downs, but I think that it’s really made you who you are. 🙂 Even the terrible things in life open the door for goodness to follow. Glad to hear you’re happier. 🙂
I can relate to your thoughts of April! My first marriage took place on 4-26-1986…My Mother passed on 4-03-2008 and then tax day! My second marriage was on 4-14-2004! When we planned our wedding I knew I wanted it prior to my first marriage date so it always hit first every year! I was also lucky enough to have a son born 4-08-1993 so that always helps with my Mom’s anniversary of her death.
You are lucky your path lead you to happiness & love…just a bump or two first.
Ive pretty young but I don’t think about this often. I thought this way about my ex. My ex’s is birthday is on New Years Eve that’s also the day he proposed to me. Me and my new BF made it official on New Year’s day a year ago and but im at the point where I don’t care or think of him in that way anymore. I still live in the same place and certain areas I would wince at the memories whereas now I just have fun and don’t even think of it. Took me a long time 5 years to get to this place in my life but once I did it was such a great and freeing feeling. Ive been a long time reader and I never knew you had abby before you got married!! WOW you have really thrived and its wonderful to see , watch and learn from your experiences.
Thanks for being such a long-time reader. I appreciate it.
On balance, April’s a pretty good month for me. My mom and my older son have birthdays this month–can’t believe I have a kid a quarter of a century old!
April 30 is the day I had the MRI which revealed the 5.5cm tumor pressing into my brain and strangling my optic nerve. It was another week before the operation to remove the tumor, but I really think of that as the beginning of my road to recovery.
Glad you have positives as well as negatives to think about this month, and that the positives outweigh the negatives.
My parents’ anniversary is April 16. This year, they celebrate 61 years together, and ‘in sickness and in health’ is their way of life these days. Last summer, my kids & I moved back to this area after 13 years in another state. Partly to be closer to my parents and family. And partly to leave a long-term relationship that ensured my wings remained clipped. I have been quite happy writing for a local newspaper, rather than being a magazine editor somewhere else, although there are certainly opportunities for that here. The circle of life has never been more evident, but it’s a good reminder that everything we do is connected. Every change we make serves a purpose and presents a lesson. The Irish say the longest road out is often the shortest road home. Here’s to many more roads for all of us, the long and the short. And to the beautiful spring that awaits on April’s far side.
Yes, indeed.
My childhood wasn’t terrible but it wasn’t great either. Mom divorced Dad when I was very young and seldom made a big deal out of my April birthdays. The one birthday party I had growing up was thrown by my grandmother.
But beginning with the Waco incident in ’93, it seems like nearly every April since, something truly horrendous happens in this country. I also feel really badly for people who were born on September 11th.
On the other hand, I really love the way this state looks in April. All the beautiful green coming back after the gray of winter. So, I have mixed feelings about this month.
My oldest friend’s birthday is Sept. 11, but she never celebrates it on that day. Guess why.
I think it can be very interesting to look back at the bad/hard times in life and see how they caused your life to go off in very different directions because of new decisions made then. As you get older you get a bit more philosophical about the bad times and know that you can get through them.
Your story about your EX made me think of Faulkner’s “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” In my life, some emotionally painful experiences have been buried and put to rest. Yet some events never leave me either and my internal mental clock knows the anniversary date. I even feel the trepidation for several days before the actual date.
Yes. This.
Around the third week of January each year, Abby and I both get anxiety and feelings of something being not quite right. That’s the anniversary of her near-fatal illness:
http://donnafreedman.com/you-cant-even-tell-perfect-bodies-apart/
I really enjoy your site but please don’t disparage and stereotype your fellow south Jersey Girls…very few of us have big hair or bad skin (I’ll concede the fierce accent part though). Let’s go Sixers!
Duly noted….I was thinking about some of the women with whom I grew up. Bitterness and cynicism seems rampant — and, sorry, there’s a lot of sun damage! Maybe women these days are smarter about sunblock than we were.
I’m from Cumberland County. You?
I hear you, Donna. Maybe that bitterness is more concentrated in the Northeast than in other areas. I’m from Woodbury…great location close to Center City, Delaware and the shore. It is really pretty here this time of year. Cheers!
I know Woodbury — one of the buses that took me to Philadelphia went right through it. It’s a pretty little town. Or was, anyway; did it gentrify?
I grew up in Mercer County. and memorized lots of Bible verses to go down the shore when I was a kid, as our ma didn’t have a car! (Said Ma was from Woodbury!) I went with (and 15 other kids from the same block)— “The Bible Lady”, and it was all about jumping in the waves! I was always sunburned and have the skin cancer today to show for it, maybe! We also loved Island Beach State Park and Manasquan, just so much gorgeousness, although Manasquan suffered hugely from Hurricane Sandy! Tickled to read your shore story!!!
I don’t remember which beaches my mom took us to — it was always just “the shore” for us — but I expect it was Ocean City. As a teenager, I went to Wildwood with my friends because that’s where you were supposed to go.
23 years was a long time in a bad marriage but great that you emerged triumphant and full of courage. We all learn from our experiences.
Do you ever get weary of frugality? I’d love you to write an article about maintaining frugality as I often tire of it.
My dad’s birthday was April 1. He was forever getting teased by my mom…
I loved him dearly, and miss him.
http://cindybrick.blogspot.com/2018/03/why-this-easter-weekend-is-more.html
You’re making an excellent point, though — that you have to go through the bad stuff to grow enough to appreciate the good stuff.