How does one sum up an entire memoir? Is it possible to capture what you meant to say or is this final chapter just a follow-up? For me, the memoir was about more than recalling the past. It was about seeing the full picture. This is an excerpt from the last part of my book, The Myth of the Yellow Kitchen.

The gift of returning to the past led to greater understanding of the present, the one life I have, and my place in the larger scenario.

The book was written over a long period of time. For me, time was needed to face the issues and emotions of those early years with an honesty that only distance can bring. Through my writing I learned to rethink my views of gender, relationships and Identity.

Before the divorce, I tried so hard to be the ideal wife and mother — making drapes, taking cooking lessons, caring for my children, and fulfilling all the fantasies I had of the yellow kitchen. I never thought about what I needed to realize my own abilities.

“Give your husband your pay check,” friends advised me when I first started teaching. At that time, my husband, Charly, held a psychology internship in various New York State institutions and did not make much money. But did her really need my paycheck to safeguard his masculinity? And what about my feelings of confidence as a professional and decision-maker? In the fifties and sixties, I never disputed the idea of fixed gender roles.

The divorce, such a tragedy for me at that time, became the impetus for growth, independence and the development of my abilities. I did grow. I did change. I moved from the traditional view of a woman’s role in the forties and fifties to an independent, professional woman in the seventies, eighties, and nineties.

I have been fortunate to have had several long relationships wth men after the divorce. WIth each relationship, I was reminded how men were often socialized to a view of masculinity that was almost impossible to attain. The myths about male sexuality were particularly difficult for them. For me, on the other hand, the feminist movement portrayed models and images that helped me formulate new conceptions of both male and female roles.

This all became clearer to me as I began to write. I started writing more than thirty years ago when I sold my house and went from room to room remembering what happened there, who we were, and how developed. Still, it took years before I could embrace writing, years of working hard to keep it all afloat and taking care of the children. Then, there was little time and energy to write. Now, writing fuels my passion and creativity. Often, I am at the computer at five in the morning. The gift of returning to the past leads to a greater understanding of the present, the one life I have, and my place in the larger scenario.

As I look back over my life, even now many years later, I am reminded again and again of that night long ago when Beth was sick, really sick in the middle of the night and I had to rethink who I was and what I needed to do. Then I found my strength in helping Beth. From where does the strength come now to face the ambiguities ahead?

Sometimes the blessings can get lost in the murkiness of longevity, the shadows of unexpected ailments, the vagueness of where am I going, if anywhere. But each day, I try and reconnect with the strengths that emerged after the divorce the force to get a doctorate when I had no money and three young children, and the power to enjoy the magic and mystery of life.