Supernumerary?

I know, “supernumerary” is a difficult word to pronounce, with unclear meaning, and it has been significantly declining in usage since the 19^th century. Nonetheless, it describes what I sometimes feel. Definitions include “extra, present in excess of the normal or needed number,” and synonyms include “superfluous.”

At the end of a busy life, as wife, mother, career scientist…what happened? The life cycle has moved ahead as expected – my children left home, moved away, found partners, had children, and made lives for themselves; my time for retiring from a life-long successful career became appropriate and seemed desirable; and my husband, significantly older than me, became ill and died. In all those events, my role declined or disappeared.

When they were young, I felt close to my children, and when important events—good or bad—happened to them, I was often the first to know. I comforted them when they were sad or disappointed, and applauded their accomplishments. I was proud of them, and glad to be central in their lives. Now our relationship has changed. They have life partners, and dear friends, who are the first to know of their successes and concerns. And they now have children who come to them for comfort and congratulations. And that is how it should be. But I feel like a supernumerary in their lives.

When I left work there was a time of continued communication and consultation with colleagues, but that soon ended. Others took over the many parts of my professional role, and soon wanted to put their own identity on the tasks and do it their way, with no input from a previous incumbent—me.

After I retired from work, some aspects of the relationship with my husband were enhanced, as we had more time together. When he became ill, I was central to his well-being, arranging for medical care and home aides. After he died, I was no longer needed by anyone at home, there was just me. Sometimes I felt like an extra in my own home.

Because I grew up in the 1960s, songs from that era often come to mind at this time in my life. I have recently been thinking about the words from a song by the Byrds:  “Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There is a Season).” I liked singing the song and felt I understood the words then, but I more deeply understand their meaning now.

I know I am fortunate to have lived so many seasons. And I am learning that I am not an “extra” in life, there are still tasks for me to do, and needs to fulfill for people I care about. My daughter and her young family recently moved, and she is filled with excitement about her new home. She called to tell me about it, and it was clear she was exhausted from all the work involved in unpacking and setting up the home. And she was so happy, almost struggling to control her feelings about all the work that still needed to be done. “I feel such comfort with you Mom” she said. And “I think of the guest room with you in it.” After the telephone call, I realized that although my time for setting up homes for my family are over, I can bring comfort and support to my children in undertaking these roles and tasks. I’m no supernumerary there.

In terms of my career, the research center I built, still funded after more than 25 years, no longer needs me- there are other outstanding senior scientists who now oversee its work and provide support to a wide range of scientists. That part of my life’s work is done. But I’m not. There are several young people in my family who I serve as a mentor for, my writing helps me fulfill my needs to be creative, and I have learned that some of the readers of my Blog draw ideas and inspiration from what I write. So while my prior professional roles are over, there is still meaningful work for me to do.

And regarding my husband and my roles as a wife and caretaker – there were many seasons in our relationship: a time for falling in love, for raising children, for enjoying each other, and for supporting each other through the successes and challenges that we had together. And that part of my life is over. But my love for family and friends means that we support and encourage each other as we age, and life’s changes and losses mount. I’m finding this particularly important in terms of my close friendships, as we share experiences and feelings about our lives. We have become even more important to each other, and I am no supernumerary there.

And so the change of seasons continue, and the roles I play have been transformed. As the line in the song says, there is “… a time for every purpose under heaven.” I see that I can find new, evolving purpose over time. It comes from looking around me to see the people I care about who may need my encouragement during particular changes in their lives, and from looking within myself, to identify interests and pleasures to pursue that I had little time for in the past.