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� I was married in 1962 and separated from my husband in 1977. The marriage was not legally dissolved until some years later. I felt like such a failure. My son had an illness that geneticists told me was passed on from the mother and I no longer had a husband. Thank God for my dear friends MJ & Fred Jones. I called them my Canadian parents. Although I'd worked outside of the home during my marriage I never considered anything I did a career. I had simply contributed to the family coffers. After the separation my jobs took on new meaning. They were the only source of income my son and I had and it became apparent that being financially dependent on ones employment was totally different from just working for extras. Downright rudeness, became lack of tact, Compromise, became a way of life. I found myself laughing nervously at racist or sexist jokes that offended me. I did become expert a caustic retorts, but always with a smile , just in case. I played a role for so long that I began to forget who I really was and stayed in character for longer periods. � After Gary's death I started writing down my feelings. I thought of it as self help. It was the diary I'd never kept. Like many others I wanted to view myself as strong, honest, desirable and above all popular. My friends praised me for all of the above qualities, but my secret writing told a very different story. It told of a woman who was very unsure of her strength, sexuality and popularity. The person I was belied the image I portrayed and made me very unhappy. � During the long years of my son's illness I had been subjected first hand to the many injustices of the system. I'd have the occasional flashes of indignation and a feeling of wanting to "do something". However, that would mean stepping out of character and becoming vulnerable. Besides, what could I do? Who would listen to me? What could I possibly accomplish? I justified my apathy by telling myself and my friends that I would indeed become involved in the battle for social change if it were not for the restrictions placed upon me. My friends believed me and I had a comfortable excuse for my lack of courage. For some time after Gary's death I used grief as an excuse until I was forced into the position of playing or folding my cards by being offered a job that involved complete commitment. Fear of failure was the only real excuse I had for refusing. I accepted. � I've put this collection of poetry together because I believe there are many people who have had these same feelings. Who among us has never felt fear, rejection, sexuality doubts, identity crisis and guilt. Guilt can be the most destructive emotion. Women are prime targets for guilt. � In 1996, after a 10 year relationship, I remarried. John has two grown children with families of their own that I am privileged to share. To the youngest grand children I'm simply Granny and I love it. Every time I hold the newest addition I feel blessed to have been given this second chance. I love John's family as if they were my own flesh and blood. �� I've tried to tell a story with poetry. The story is not about death and grieving but about life and growth. My son did not die in vain. I believe that we are the sum total of our life experiences. Everything that has happened in my life, good and bad, is what has made me who I am today. I'm stronger, kinder, more self-assured and have a great sense of humor (so I'm told). I love my husband, I love my life, and I even love myself. I hope that you the reader will be able to take some of what I've written and relate to it. If you can, then you will understand that you are not alone in your hopes, dreams, fears, weaknesses and strengths. The tragedy in my life was not only my son's illness and death, but also the fact that I never believed myself worthy of peace and contentment. That I now have the courage to expose my innermost feelings is a giant step for me. I am all the things written in these pages. No one thing is me. I've enjoyed getting to know and like myself. Well past the bloom of youth and facing the future with excitement, I can't wait to see how I'll be when I'm fully grown. �sincerely, �June Wilson (Thompson) � Acknowledgments To those who gave encouragement I thank you from my heart To those who tried to bar my way I'm glad you did your part In making me determined To bar you from my way To go ahead and publish The things I have to say To those who patronized me Who said my work was "cute" There are pages here for you My "cuteness" to refute And to those who said "I love it, save me two or three" Sisters in the truest sense is what you are to me.
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June Wilson
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Date Last Modified: 5/5/00