Margm

SOB ER doc sorta read me the riot act since I had had Brianna in the ER (in Louisiana) on the 28th and they did a CT. I told him I spent most of one day trying to get her in "the damn system" and thanks to him seeing her in the ER, I now had her in the system. Also appointment with her PCP tomorrow at 1:30 p.m. Could not get appointment for new patient for two weeks. I am angry, I am very angry. I was angry enough to stomp a mudhole in him right there in that room and he left fast. I am not sure a Xanax would help. I need Jack Daniels (in a bottle), but it would kill me and we have appointment tomorrow.

You all know, from reading my posts, if you have time to spoon through the word salads that I read Marty and Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D. These two make the most impact on my ice covered or some other substance covered brain. Today, fixing to take my granddaughter to ER 50 miles away, I just read, while waiting on her something that Wolfelt said. He is talking about deathbed visions. "Oh sure, I am a product of a medical model Ph.D program in psychology, so I understand the argument that deathbed visions are simply the biochemical side effects of the brain shutting down process. But, as with all things in life , we can choose to believe in mystery and synchronicity and eternal meaning---or we can stick to rigid confining "facts." "I can choose to believe that there is, or may be, something beautiful beyond death." Marty and Dr. Wolfelt, you give hope to my cynical world right now. No breakthrough "meaning to life and death" but sometimes there is a straight line to think about, at least for half an inch. Half a moment.

Gwen, my mom and dad have burial plots, Billy and I will have our memorial grave site where ashes will be mixed and I think they bury them about 25-26 inches, the box. My mom and dad's memorial in front of us, my dad's the last masonic funeral, uncle, aunt, grandmother, grandfather, mom and dad, and mine and Billy's. Two hundred years from now they will all be forgotten. Hope we are all somewhere better. Like Billy said "you will be gone and your worry and pain gone" and that was prophetic of him. Right now we all still have the worry and pain. The rest of the things will be scattered to the winds. My mom was not sentimental at all. I am sentimental, but for how long? Then it won't matter. "Some day we will die Snoopy. Yes, but on all the other days we will not." I'm getting very cynical.

Kevin, I could not have used all Billy's fishing stuff, but there is one thing I wish, he would have loved for his nephew to have it all and I let a stranger come in and take most of it. I saved special things though and I will give them to his nephew. They grew up together, about three years age difference. There are still special things that I won't give away. I cannot take them with me when I am gone, but I'm not gone yet, and I hope when that time comes we will all find peace. It is hard moving on any at all, but you really get tired of standing in one place too long. Makes my back hurt.

Oh, I just wanted to bitch. Don't like my baby to hurt and red tape keeps them from being helped. Does not seem humane.

This was to follow one of Kay's notes, but decided I might better relocate it. I like my site because we are all going through hell at some time or the other. I spent from 8:02 this morning until about 11:30 calling numbers to get Brianna in the AR system of Medicare/Medicaid that Kelli has her on. I cannot put her on mine yet, Kelli gets SS for Bri. I finally had to tell them "if I have already told you this story, if I have already talked to you, please let me know so I won't repeat myself and bore you to death." I have gone from her primary care physician being about 180 miles away to 61 miles away. It was a very stressful morning, talking to ARKids First directly and to other doctors that won't accept it. I have her a primary care physician. This is so much stranger than mine. I can go to any doctor I want to go to. This was so stressful because she has to go to another dentist in AR, to refer her to oral surgeon. If the moves had not been made, they would already be cut out but she has headaches from them and getting help is almost impossible. I am used to getting a doctor when I want one and unless it is just too long a wait or I don't like the sound of the doctor's name or something equally as stupid, well, I will just say this has been one hell of a stressful day. I went to McDonald's to get breakfast late and for some reason, no known reason, just stress I guess, I cried all the way home, humming sobs, stupid crying over something I cannot do anything about. Just constant all the way home. Then I cut it off and now will live another day. I honestly don't think any of us are happy anymore and never will be in the same way. I think Charlie Brown and Snoopy got it correct. Charlie Brown: Some day we will all die Snoopy. Snoopy: True, but on all the other days we will not.

Goodbye April, another month gone, that's all. I have been going through a strange phase and have quit reading my books on all the widows and widowers. Trying to read autobiographies, and trying to deal with my daughter's illness and my granddaughter's having to have her wisdom teeth removed. Not time for much else. The strange phase is a sort of anger at Billy. I know he could not help leaving and would not have left if he could have helped it, so my anger is terribly misplaced. But the anger, sometimes, takes up a space where forgetting things is easier.............and the guilt from forgetting is harder. One day at a time.

Kevin, my dad would play something, cannot remember name, but they would throw round washers (big ones) like you buy at a hardware store and I know you men know what I am talking about. I don't know what to call them, but that. They would dig a dirt pit so many inches deep, so many inches wide, and they would stand back so many feet and try to get the washers in the hole. Of course they played horseshoes also. Proud of you for socializing. I have my chances to do this, and have done some, but I go through crazy phases that I don't want to be around people. I was never like that in younger days, and will get around to going to lunch with my friends. ..........eventually. Right now, too involved with family's health. Will do it again though, given time.

You are a wise woman Carol Ann. Thank you. I wish you the best also.

"I think it boils down to this: When dealing with others who aren’t living up to our expectations of how we think they should “be there” for us, we have three choices: We can choose to bear with such people and simply ignore their shortcomings; we can assume a teacher's role and enlighten them about what we've learned about grief and what we need from them; or we can look to others who are more understanding to find the support we need and deserve." (Marty) Marty, we are faced with this in a different way, in a much sadder way, in a way none of us know how to respond to in our dearly beloved Butch's family and our dear Butch. All of our sorrow pales in comparison to his, and yet we really do not know what to say because words do not heal. Time does not heal, though RK might be right, it provides scar tissue. We all know I am "different" and that can be taken good or bad. I love my friends, I know they all want to have lunch with me, they all want me to come to socials, and I am not one that will miss Billy at socials, he would not go. Maybe I have taken on his persona. I honestly don't want to talk to my friends. They have given up in most cases. They are not angry with me, they just "let me me" and I so appreciate that. My feelings are not hurt. My friend said "now you can find yourself." Damn, I never was looking for myself. I guess I need to practice holding my head up, looking people in the face (who knows, they might know me) but with my memory I am not sure I will remember them. Billy's and my friends all those years (he would not be friends with mine, he was jealous that they had known me when he didn't), yes he had a problem. But, his lifelong friends, the ones that were my friends also, maybe that is one thing that might bother me. Maybe not. I probably don't want to see them either. I wonder if this is maybe metaphorically digging my hole and covering myself up with the dirt, maybe disappearing like Billy did. If so, I'm sure I have to quit digging that hole. I'm sorry, I think I hijacked this post. I will be more careful.

Her church probably has 300-400 or more, two Sunday morning services. I came from a small church. We branched off from a big church. Good people all. I'm afraid I probably am sanctimonious and a hypocrite at times myself. Certainly I do judge people. Just making an assumption as to the reasons my friend is absent from my life right now is judging. She has had heart problems, and perhaps it is me that should be checking on her. That is one of my biggest problems now, it is hard for me to reach out to help people. I have two close friends that have reached out to me and one is very ill. Sometimes I want to run and hide from everyone. My flight or fight response has turned to flight, but my size 7 feet cannot run from some things, even though I want to. I wonder why that is, the fact that you feel trouble coming and you want to run away. Yet, you know if you run away you would be hurting someone and you cannot let them even know you want to run. A lot of times I just want to leave, cannot show that.

She will be 18 in July. I have everything but legal custody, but even at that if it came to police interference, the police would side with the 17 year old. (We have been to the sheriff's department). I don't need the money, but the insurance, Medicaid/whatever it is called, will be changed to mine in July, when she is 18, only it is my insurance we have had since 1961, not Medicaid. She is still a student too.

I forget sometimes about my son. I do not have all the load on myself. We have taken care of our son through the narcotics addiction, the hep-C treatments (almost lost him), and I forgot about his gunshot wound when he almost died. I forget to rely on others sometimes. He has been in Arkansas for a week, but just called. I am not alone. All I have to do is call him and he thinks he is taking care of me now. I am really blessed, even through my anxiety. I still have so much to be thankful for. I just have to remind myself.

I come to here to write my word salads. Sometimes it helps me to get the words written, thus said, even if not out loud. Billy was always beside me. If we had problems, they were our problems. Now, all of us still have the same problems we had before we lost our mate and yet there is no one to share them with. I'm a traveler (or used to be). A trip of 200-300 miles was nothing for me. As long as Billy was with me, or even if he was at work, at home, or fishing, I knew he had my back, if I needed him. Today I have to go 101 miles. We have a major weather system right on top of us. If Billy was still here it would be just a step for a stepper. He is not here though and I have some fear that I cannot show in front of my granddaughter. I will let her use her GPS because the directions take me out of Louisiana (I hate I-49), onto I-30, (I hate interstate), and then back into Texas which Texarkana you know is both states. I do a lot of quoting things. Sometimes they are just words. I still get the GriefShare blog each night late. I just read it this morning. Most mornings I don't even read it. Sometimes I am "oh ye of little faith." This is what it said this morning. It spoke to me, but I am still sorta scared. Billy is not around. Just knowing he was around somewhere gave me strength. I have to be the strength that my granddaughter needs. (From GriefShare) When your faith is only the size of a tiny, tiny mustard seed, you can move a large mountain because you believe in the power of God. You have chosen to trust in Him, and He will be there to give you strength. “He replied, ‘Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, "Move from here to there” and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you’“ (Matthew 17:20). Even a little faith, when it is in a big God, is sufficient. If you do not have faith or religion, I am not preaching to you. This was written so I can have faith in myself, and derive that faith from my source.

I've never considered the money she gets for her. I always thought it was a privilege to take care of her, not a real obligation. It gives me reason to get out of bed in the morning. When I hear people talk about getting money from "the system" to take care of foster children, now that bothers me very much. There are so many people that are different than we are. Mama always said (I quote Mama a lot), "everybody is crazy but me and thee, and sometimes i worry about thee" and some of Mama's quotes came from the poets, from Shakespeare, and from the Bible. Sometimes I would get them mixed up. Can you imagine people taking in children as a way of "making money?" I cannot. But there are some people who will take the money for themselves and the child is left with nothing but selfish people who use the system. A system that is so overworked that these children are overlooked. Children grow into adults with problems. I know this. Lord help me to save just one and make life easier for that one. I know my limitations. But, the love I have for this one knows no limits.

I am a Baptist, always have been. I have been teased about we think we are the only ones going to heaven, and I have walked out of a service downing other religions. I am not a good Baptist. We both know some sanctimonious people, but most times they are really good people. This woman is a really good person and is not judging me to my face, not talking about me, but in her own way she feels I am not trying to help myself. I admire her faith, but I do not admire it enough to live like she does. I wish I was that good a person, and she really is good, she just does not realize she is judging, and I won't argue that with her. I am jealous of her faith. She had a long seven years of totally taking care of a bedridden husband, every movement he made, she did it for him until he jerked out his own feeding tubes, etc. I'm afraid I was a disappointment to her because she learned sometimes you cannot help people, they have to help themselves. I do wish I had her faith though. When you lose someone like your best friend, losing other friends does not matter much.

Marty, I am very forgetful about myself, but I never forget appointments and being on time for my granddaughter. But, I cannot argue that I am an Einstein for remembering with my family, yet they all call me to put appointments in my appointment book I have kept each year for years and years. I cannot argue my forgetfulness, but I will not forget any obligations I have for this child. Her mom's voice was slurred and I am sure she had had her pain medicine for the dermoid cysts. She is a retired/burned out nurse and will not follow doctor's directions. In fact, that was one of the main reasons we had Brianna, she had given her too much medicine one time and said she did not trust herself and did us. Appointments, even for myself, are something I never forget. With Kelli's headaches and Brianna's headaches also, perhaps I am stressed, but I can handle Brianna and Kelli has a partner that monitors her every movement. I cannot argue my forgetfulness about some minor things, but something this important I know I am right. But, they all know I forget things, simple things and just don't care. It does not bother me at all, but something serious............I have not forgotten. But someone did forget to tell me.

“Forgetfulness is a form of freedom.” ― Kahlil Gibran I have to admit, I have played with my forgetfulness. Sometimes, like looking for the nugget pendant and the "green" folder, it has become a troublesome riddle. Surprises me that a show I saw last week, I will forget I saw it. Oh, it will come back to me once I am in it. Honestly, I really have taken the notion of "fiddly-dee, I will think about that tomorrow" But then I get asked "do you know where ?? is located" and the worse yet "do you remember.?" Those two give me pause for concern.........and anger because I do not want to remember. Bri plays little fun games with me. A name I know one instant, two instants later I will forget and she gets tickled at the names I come up with. No problem there. My granddaughter has to have her wisdom teeth removed. I have taken her to two dentists with referrals to oral surgeons that Medicare/Medicaid that her mama carries will not cover it in this state past the 30th and now we have to go back to Arkansas.. Her mother let me call the oral surgeons here and then she told me that Bri had an appointment at a doctor in Texarkana. Why did she let me call the doctors here if she had an appointment in Texarkana? I asked her and she told me she had told me Bri had an appointment at this new doctor at 1:30 tomorrow and she had told me. Daughter is heavily medicated for the dermoid tumors in her own head. I honestly do not remember her telling me, and if she did tell me then why did she let me call the Louisiana oral surgeons? For a few minutes there I was/am really feeling like having a breakdown. I have to hold myself together. I cannot get her on my insurance because my daughter still collects money from SS for her daughter. She is a student, and with this problem will not be able to finish this school semester but have been assured she will pick up right where she left off in September. My daughter said I forgot because I was stressed. Well I am stressed, my granddaughter is hurting. But, I could hear the narcotics in my daughter's voice also. If I was actually told, then something that important, if I forgot it, then I must really be losing it. I do forget things all the time. Comical things. Nothing so serious. I would not let my granddaughter down by forgetting something this important, not to mention the fact that I am going to a part of the country I am not familiar with at all. How could I forget something that important?

Oh yeah, Daddy never got in trouble with the law. He was alderman of his small town one time and did not run the next time. Like me, he disliked politics. He was also the depot agent and hated having to tell people when they could work and couldn't, so he went back on the extra board. I got to ride the train anywhere and they let me have the run of the train. I loved riding in the caboose on the little porch. I just took for granted what other kids would love to do. Thinking about figuring out a way to go by Amtrak to NYC in the next year or so if I can. Bri could see her Broadway shows (even if they are off Broadway), and it is certainly something Billy would not do, so I won't feel too sad.

I still have not cried for Mama. I think I will sometimes. I was fighting cancer myself when my dad passed away April 24, 1984. Billy and Scott carried me through the funeral, one arm under each of my arms. I was not crying. I had been loaded down with Valium by my shrink. I remember losing my shoe somewhere along the way. It was after this funeral, I decided I did not want any. Billy felt the same way. Anyhow, looking at him on his beloved motorcycle (this was only a year or so before he was given his diagnosis of prostate cancer. I did cry. I wish everyone could be married to their best friend like I was. Life is just too short. Just to be sure, this is my dad. Billy was never interested in motorcycles, only fly fishing and reading and when we could, camping out, RVing. If Billy could have been born in another time he would have wanted to be Jeremiah Johnson. I'll bet we watched that movie over 10 times. (I never told Billy how much I liked Robert Redford).

Gin, I want to write something but I don't know this man. And, I just now read Gwen's note and thank you Gwen, I am laughing. We know our guys on here and they hurt just like we do. The mechanic that had come to talk to me at the Toyota place, I'm afraid I was having a conniption fit over whether to buy that car or run and I did not have time to talk to him. Now I feel bad. He might have needed to talk. He had lost his wife recently after 49 years. I think about my mama, and bless her heart, her tongue was a double edged sword. I was with her in the grocery store and an older man was asking her for help finding something. Mama just turned her back and walked off. I told her "Mama, he might have just lost his wife and does not know how to buy groceries." Mama's voice was not sweet and quiet, she said "Oh he is probably some old man looking for a woman to take care of him." Yes, he heard her, and like always, I just hurried Mama out of the store. But you know this guy, I don't. And, if he was being forward and hateful like he sounds, you ought to ask him if he would say that when Al was with you. Or better yet, take one of the woodworking tools and hit him in his smart mouth. He won't ask again.

Oh, I just felt sure she would understand. Honestly, sometimes death brings out the worse in people but sometimes love overcomes this. My daughter and I were at each other's throats just before his death, her the nurse, me the wife, but when I blew my top at her taking things, even though she had given them to him, she was meek as a lamb and I felt so bad. Love wins out. We may have lost the person, but love is forever.

Oh Cookie, what a treasure this picture is. Yes, I am crying hard. There is a book or article by Billy Graham that mentions our fur babies being in heaven and I won't go into it,, my mind won't comprehend it right now, I'm so sorry.

One of my dear friends, mother to one of my daughter's life long friends, and also happens to be distant kin to me, she fought the good fight with her husband through prostate cancer. Then he was cancer free, but this was not a regular fight, it was a long frightful fight (but they really all are frightful, some just not so long.) Now she writes everyday on FB, and I see her fear, her every thought reading between the lines of the proverbs and notes she puts on FB. She is not a "writer/talker" like I am, but I can hear all the despondency, all the depression she now has. Now her husband has dementia, not Alzheimer's, but it is something new every day. Family is scattered to the four winds. What is it about some of us, we won't, cannot accept help. And, I so understand this on some level, I am just as stubborn, it is like the gene ran rampant in my family. I remember my dad dying, could not get around, but my uncle came to "help" and my dad was able to get up and run him off. My good friend who took me to the grief group, I have not heard back from her. I won't reach out to her. We are still friends, I am sure, but she cannot understand about me and the grief group. The group was about "grief." It involved mothers losing children more than widows. In my grief, these women were in far more need of help than I was. You join a group to be helped. I left each meeting crying. "Son found in the hunting woods, did not come by for the beef stew his mother had made for him, authorities would not tell her what happened." After that meeting I did not go back. Mama always said there was a thin line between insanity and genius. I did not know about the genius, but leaving each of those meetings, I figuratively was hanging on to that line, hanging from the bottom, hanging on with my hands and feet. Sometimes something that helps one person will make another hang on to life by a thread. I don't know why that is.

How could anyone say it better? So much in only two lines.