Margm

My daughter was a group leader as the nurse at the parish correctional jail. It was a woman's group and in tough situations, women can be tough. In our situations, in our homemade prison, we can and we have to be tough. What an intuitive thing for you to do Ms. Kay, who writes and makes cards for different occasions and different people. A very nice thing to do, and somehow, I figure those cards are still carried by many inmates........and they fit our situation also. (Although I try to stay physically away from that bed.)

My daughter's partner decided to spray for the weeds. She did not realize all the plants Kelli had planted were not weeds. She caught hell. That is why I like an apartment, my planting days are over. (To tell you the truth, they never began), my daughter and my mother had the green thumb. Keeping things bare, to the minimum was my thing. A few days before Kelli was born I got the hatchet out, and ax, and cut down some perfectly nice shrubs, I think Arborvitae type. Why? Cause I could and I had a surge of vitality during those last days of pregnancy. Insanity too.

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.” ― Edgar Allan Poe Sometimes I think back on bad times just so I can get angry at Billy. Sometimes it helps. I know he didn't do it on purpose. I know we had a lot of time together but finally it was gonna be "a time for us" and knowing my family, that was probably just a joke and more of the same. Sometimes I make out like he just left me. Used to when I could not sleep (before Billy left), I would write a chapter to a book until I went to sleep. Next night I would pick up where I had left off. One time I got so into it I could write it in my head during the daytime. I cannot get that imagination back. So, sometimes I just get angry at him for leaving. I don't like "long intervals of horrible sanity."

I have put this on here before, about the two little girls sitting on the steps of the ambulance when it took me to the ER in 2014. Can there be truth in hallucinations? True enough, I was as near death for myself, closer than I have ever been that I know about. (At the time I was in and out of consciousness anyhow, but did not realize it was serious). I remember asking where the little girls were. I do not know why they were there, but they were sitting on the steps on each side of the front ambulance doors. At the time I did not think of them as angels, I just wondered why they were there, and I do remember asking about them. No one else saw them. When the nun took my hands and prayed over me, my eyes were on the cross on the wall the whole time and she made me feel holy. That is the only word I can think of to call it. It is a Catholic hospital. Mama was in labor for eight days when I was born. It should have been a cesarean birth, and they certainly did perform them even that far back. At one time she said there was an angel at the foot of her bed. I am sure if I asked my friend, who was a transcriptionist with me, why she became a hospice nurse working nights as her first job. You know she could have had any job she wanted, but this was the one she wanted, and if I asked her, I am sure her answer would coincide with your's Marty.

I hope your counselors can help Gwen. I keep thinking about what Dr. Webb, Billy's oncologist said "shoulda, woulda, coulda" and I just wonder how often he has to say that. Just like being a hospice nurse, counselor, doctor, funeral directors, there are jobs in this world that must be inhabited by Angels, because no mere mortal could put up with the suffering they have to see. Marty is one of those Angels. We know they are mortal people, but they see "us" each day. I wonder, do they have to retire early. How can anyone put up with this suffering from so many sources, but they do it each day. I marvel at them, how can they ever be happy? I know they must get their rewards from seeing one small ray of sunshine come out of someone's life, but what about their life? My mama always brought her work home with her, talked about it constantly, we got so tired of it. My sister, who worked for the social service that took children away from abusive parents. Each night talking to her I heard the ice tinkling in the glass of "good cheer" that she had to use to face each day. I am just not that good of a person. But there are people that good. I keep seeing the pasted on smile of the funeral director, older than me, (I also found that hard to believe), but he had just lost his wife of 66 years. How do people do this job?

I know I was in denial. We both had beat life threatening health problems, three very serious ones. I was not going to let it happen. I sincerely thought we could beat it. We were immortal. So, I did not talk about it with him, only the next miracle we were going to have. Then God made me quit playing God.

Vicky, I have chronic depression, and years ago I took Prozac for a bunch of years. I had cancer, a lot of guilt, and did lose my dad. I do not remember crying. I lost my mom in August, I have not cried for her that I remember. Not suggesting that my cause for not crying might be yours, but just letting you know there was a period I could not cry.. For health reasons now, I cannot take an antidepressant. I do plenty enough crying for both of us. I have heard that crying is cathartic, and maybe it is. But another analogy is I was told if (when I was pregnant), if I just would go ahead and throw up I would feel better. I did feel better. Now (and I have numerous belly ailments from radiation), throwing up just makes me sicker. So, in the same sense, crying may be cathartic, or it may lead to just more and more crying. I wish I could tell everyone things get better. Somehow it is not better, it is just different. Every day is different. This morning with my mustard seed faith I pray for strength to just get done what I have to get done today. I know one thing I have to do, I have to turn off the news, that is depressive enough. Now, I have a church service on, do not recognize the music, but I need to at least listen to people who believe. I think my spirit is just broken and I think probably a lot of people understand. I hate you have to join us. I hate saying misery loves company, I know that is not true. But, what is true is that we all understand the misery. On any given day you will find someone having a better day than yesterday. Today, I am not having a good day, but I have to get busy with the tasks at hand. I have my teenager granddaughter living with me. Sometimes I think if she was not with me, I would just dig a hole and crawl in it and hope no one noticed me..

Billy made sure that one was recorded each week. That and Longmire were his favorites. It has taken me 20 months to go back to it and I cried the first couple of episodes of the last season. It is such a good clean show.

Well, I guess Canada has to be hot also, but all I can picture is "Heartland" and the cool forests. Have a good weekend folks. One thing about these humid Louisiana summers, we keep moisture on us 99.9% of the time, and according to Marty's dad, we must glow 100% of the time, (but I just plain sweat).

First off, how I feel right now is probably not how I am going to feel five seconds from now, five minutes from now, five hours from now, or any other time that I live. I have a lot to contend with right now that I know only I can do, or try to do. This is what I wrote earlier and do not know how long it will last. It for sure is not advice, I am not that intelligent, confident, or even have enough plain old common sense. Sometimes you have to do things, like go wash all those clothes, that no one else can do for you, and you need to thank God, or your higher power, whatever that is, that you are still able to do it. I want to dig a hole and crawl in it. Often I want to run off period. But, I just cannot do that. I woke up this morning with a nightmare, and like most of my dreams, they disappear as soon as I leave that part of REM sleep and get out of bed. I had someone who knows me very well ask me recently "why do you let people boss you around?" I had never really thought about it, I just existed day to day like I thought we all did. I worry about what this family member thinks and then that family member, then another family member, in fact, I worry so much about all of them there is no more "me." It's only "them." I went from a very bossy mom and dad to a very bossy husband. (I have got to say this about him, he and I grew up together and eventually he became my best friend and protector). I miss him terribly. Being "on my own" now at 74 does not make me feel free. It makes me feel very vulnerable. But again, I had someone tell me another fact "you drive, you pay your own bills, you shop, you know how to live" and this was told to me by someone who has to learn all of this, so she is in the same position I am in, almost. I have the experience that somehow she has to learn. Being told what to do all my life does not make me feel confident, but I have to be me, whoever the hell that is.

The sad thing is, one day they possibly will know. I have mentioned this before, and why I mention it I have no idea. It brings me down to street level. I have never apologized to my friend. I am too ashamed, I don't want to bring it up..........if remembered, she now knows that I understand. And, most important, I know she forgives me. She lost my cousin nearly 20 years ago. She was/and still is, beautiful. I can remember telling her that she was young, she would find love again. Yep, I was one of the characters we criticize. She never found it again. She did not look. I'm sure it searched her out often because her beauty and her personality matched. The thing is, she is one of my confidants. She is one friend that talks to me like she understands. She does understand. I didn't. And the people who advise us, those who have not walked through this fire we walk in daily, unfortunately, they may remember, like I remember. And, we will forgive them too.

My "Grief One Day at a Time" is probably the only grief book I read now. I don't read it every day anymore. Today's hit me in the mood I'm in and the personal business at hand, that I have to take care of myself. Of course by myself. Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D. again. I know he has to retire one day, but his books will still be out there and they have helped me as much as anything could. July 6th "I was never insane, except upon occasion when my heart was touched." Edgar Allen Poe "Grief can feel a lot like going crazy. We find ourselves in a new reality, where everything we thought was up is down and vice versa. Our thinking is jumbled. Our feelings fly all over the place. Our every routine is discombobulated. It can help to remind ourselves that we're not actually going crazy. We're grieving. Our hearts have been touched---shattered, actually---by loss, and our lives have fallen to the ground in a million pieces. No wonder everything seems so disjointed and messy. We can remind ourselves that abnormal is the new normal for now, and that's normal. When I feel like I'm going crazy, I can stop, breathe deeply, and remember that it's just my normal and necessary grief. I used to read him every day, now I just read him often. Today he speaks to me. My son asks me why I let people boss me around. I never have known a time I did not have a "boss." True, Billy and I were finally partners and the marriage was 50/50, but when we first got married he told me it was 75/25 and since he would not let me work, I guess my untrained mind took on that persona. Mama and Daddy, then Billy. Bless his heart, he apologized over and over for being so demanding at first. He didn't know better and I had always been under my mom's thumb, and if I tried to escape, then I had Daddy's belt. Don't worry, I was not victimized, I just followed directions until I went to work and then I "got revenge" which was the wrong thing to do. Now, one member of my family is like my mama and they all wonder why I let her boss me around. She has come up against a brick wall more than once, but like my mama, she really is mental. And, no matter how much I claim to be a witch, I really hate fussing, scenes, even the telephone ringing will scare me. One thing I can do though, I can hang up.

Gwen, I wrote no cards because I don't remember getting things. Then my cousin Bonnie asked if I had gotten the card from St. Jude's saying they had donated. I don't know if I got it. I did apologize, I'm sure I got it. I told her I did. I don't ever want to see the mail for that month. I got all my bills paid on time. In fact, the guy that had talked to Billy so much before he passed away, they had talked about fishing or something, he sent us $1000, and it was just out of the goodness of his heart. I did call him. But it was not the money so much, it was because Billy and he had talked about the man just losing his father and within 2-3 months Billy left. He called and it was almost like losing his father again. Honestly, good manners still are not prominent in my personality.

I love her colorful language, especially the "f--- that"

Ana, all you wrote is true, for me for sure, and probably for all of us. How can I be strong? I am ancient. I have no strength. I have no Billy. Yet, I have to show strength. How can I do that? My hands shake, my voice shakes, and I am terrified. I can pray for strength, but I am not even sure I am heard anymore. I cannot take over my limit of Xanax, if I take too many they quit working. I really think I need a counselor myself and am unsure how to go about it, but what I am really wanting is Billy. I cannot have that. Sometimes I give out too much information. Most times. I'm sorry. I've gotta be strong.

We have an excellent, state of the art, public library. I could name names, but I won't. He is sort of the historian of this small city, (I have some of his books) and it is a city of about `12,000 to maybe 13,000 people. I will start my research at this place. My old mind says "talk to a psychiatrist" but I don't think they can help me with this problem. I will learn how to do this. Thank

I've got to find that alliance. I'm not sure where to look, but think I know the first place and will try it. It is so scary having to be strong, but maybe when you have to be strong for someone else, maybe that will provide the impetus.

Dave, I spent 43 years typing symptoms, clinics, discharge summaries, death summaries, consults, and about 27 of those years were spent typing nothing but surgery. There was always one word that I would have to look up to make sure I spelled it correctly (well, more than one word), but this word struck home with me for some reason. And we, that live home alone, they have that commercial advertising "I've fallen and I cannot get up" for a real reason they don't tell you about. If you live alone, and I am not trying to transfer fear, but a medic alert system is something we all need and I would say as we get older, but it can happen to us even if we are young. If you fall, if you hit your head, if you are in one position for too long without medical help you can develop rhabdomyolysis. (Rhabdomyolysis is a condition in which damaged skeletal muscle breaks down rapidly), and this happens if we fall and cannot get back up. I am no doctor, I don't want to dispense fear, but in reading that some of you that live alone, in reading that you are investigating these systems, it is a very smart thing to do. In the Netflix series "Frankie and Grace" they are women of my age. One falls and cannot get up. She is not hurt, but her back is bad and she just cannot get up. The other one tries to help which hurts her back and they are both on the floor. I think if you can roll around, keeping the blood circulating you can possibly reach a phone, which is what they did. But, I do not think the medic alert system is a bad idea at all if you live alone. And, I'm sorry Dave that you have all that on your mind. Sometimes we think something is unthinkable, we have plans that won't be disrupted. We have our whole life ahead of us. Now we can live the life we planned for. I was going to have another miracle, only it didn't happen. I'm not sure I should even put this here, but maybe a tiny bit of fear might save a life. Myself, I am from the tip of my toes all the way to the top of my head nothing but fear 99.9% of the time.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury Signifying nothing.(Macbeth Act 5, Scene 5) I think that last part hits me the hardest. "It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." I'm with the people talking Netflix. The news is something I cannot watch. Gotta be strong. Think I can. Will find right people to talk to.

I bought him a card last year and put it beside his wooden urn. I looked at them this year, didn't buy one. I know I was lucky to have 54 years when most of you did not get even half of that much. I think of him every day though, I hear him when a chair moves. He is not always on the bed beside me anymore and I cannot hear him. And most of all, I cannot believe he is gone.......but he is. I know he is in my heart, my head, my memory, but he is still gone.

Fixing to walk out the door to pay bills. I am leaving with a Gracie smile. Thank you.

I finished up this series after midnight last night on what would have been our 56th anniversary. We started watching the series together a few years ago and would record it each week. I could not go back and watch it without it hurting, because he loved the series so much. Well, I'm up to date and hope it has a 10th series. I believe it is filmed in Canada, in the most beautiful country I have ever seen. I somehow hope he enjoyed it as much as his last book we read together, by C.J. Box, the one he did not get to finish, and against all odds, I was able to read and comprehend, so I am hoping we read it together. I believe it is a Canadian series with all Canadian cast. It is a clean series in a heavenly beautiful setting.

Billy used to order health supplements from Puritan's Pride. I had a lot to throw away cause we ordered in bulk. Copenhagen oral tobacco was cheaper in Louisiana back then so he would buy in bulk before coming home to AR. I found his grocery lists of healthy foods when I was throwing away papers. We had the Ninja mixer to make the healthy shakes. He would brag to me he had only had 2-3 cans of the snuff that week. Bless his heart, he tried to get healthy but he could not get rid of the oral poison. He just couldn't. He quit smoking years ago and oral tobacco took its place. My mom smoked till she was 95. They were her "friends." Really, her only friends. Oh, he and I both drank the Mother apple cider vinegar and honey. I cannot say that the snuff did it, I suppose we cannot live forever. They said the aneurysm was old and could be fixed, but they could not do a thing for the rest of his body that was riddled with the cancer we had no idea about. I wasn't gonna let him die, but in the end, it was not my choice. We had run out of miracles.

Kevin, I have not been much for crying in a while. Oh, probably tears ever so often, but not crying. "Heartland" 9th season, Paint just had to be put down. I have cried from first of the 9th season, so I guess this is Sunday crying so I won't have to tomorrow, our 56th. Heartland was Billy's favorite. Didn't want to do it, but I'm doing it. The country is beautiful. You all are lucky to live in this land.

Yep, looks like a hell-hole. Billy and I might have tackled it 10-15 years ago, those days are gone. Walking to the washateria is excitement enough for me.