Margm

Okay Gin, if you know the power company, perhaps he is getting workman's compensation. I think if you call them and tell them your story, your illness, just lost your husband, you are in another state and are worried sick, maybe you might be able to get someone to go check on him. One time Billy and I were late getting home from a vacation. My daughter had the state police out trying to find us. That was many years ago and I don't know what law officials do now, but I do know waking up to 2-3 police cars with lights on and an ambulance with lights on at around 2:00 a.m. was definitely a wake-up call for me. One reason I got back closer to my family. They called it a "well check" and surely they would do it for your son. If you do not know his address, maybe the company that he fell from the power line pole will know his address. When my son was shot, my daughter was able to find us buried deep in the Gila National Forest, a little hide-away campground, 15 miles from the mountain road going up into the wilderness. Just get on your phone and start calling the officials in the county he is in. I hate being a widow, but honestly, people bend over backwards if you just call and explain. I am not saying all "kids" are like mine (Lord help us if they are), but you have a text. Now, text him that if he does not get in touch with you what you are going to do. Dammit, we are mothers, we are widows, and we deserve a little solace for our brains and hearts. I know you are not as mean as I am, but I would text him that if he does not let you know where he is, how to get in touch with him that you are going to hunt him down. I know that might not work for every son or daughter, but it would work for mine. But, like I said, not many mothers can be as mean as I can be.

Steve, after Mama passed, every night around 4:00 a.m. the little fire alarm (smoke detectors) (I cannot think what you call them) would go off and beep slowly, one beep, a few moments, another beep, another beep, another. This happened for a week, no hot spots, no smoke. Never did it before. Finally, my sister took it down. It really unnerved her. She knows Mama would not hurt her, but it never did this till Mama left. Lots of things I cannot explain. I will not even ponder why. I am the type of person that called the things that are holding my laundry cart on its wheels as "spriggles" and they are nuts. Discovered that when I went in the hardware section of Walmart. Anyhow, I am open to supernatural, or I used to be. Billy was very pragmatic. Our son thinks when he coded on the operating table (after being shot) that it opened a portal and he does feel things and sees things. Billy tried to tell him it was some kind of dope he was on. Scott won't argue, but he "sees things." I have done enough genealogy that cemeteries are portals for history learning. My sister is antsy at Mama and Daddy's resting place and anxious to leave. I like to look around and say "Oh, there is Hassel's grave, do you remember, he built the new room on the house when we were kids. Mama would cook for him and he would smack every time he ate." My sister is like "lets get the hell out of here." My great grandparents are buried together. She is in the middle of her first husband and second husband (my great grandfather). I look at them and the dates are all wrong, but my sister is just ready to leave period.

Gin, I don't know where you live. Is it possible for you to make a trip out there? If he is in an RV you can stay in it. My son and ex-wife are going to have their son committed to a two year institution because he is harmful to himself. I know it is hard for you to get around to places and this might be impossible for you. If possible and you get tired, you can pull over and stay at a motel and start out the next day. He had to call you from a phone/texted you. Explain to the police why you need to know the location of the phone. Of course, you could do like my kids and get them to make a wellness check. You could give them the phone number, they can find the place. Also, try googling the phone number. I am so sorry. We don't get over worrying about them. Scott is 54, and I still worry about him so much. Please let us know.

I gave away so much stuff of Billy's. I thought I was going to feel guilty, but I could not use the fishing rods he used. The kids got the ones they wanted. I'm thinking now I should have given them to his nephew Mike, and feeling some bad. Some how or the other, you just don't think straight at times and you have to leave things behind. I don't think about that house I left. The truck my son took was newer and in better shape, but I keep the little Ford Ranger up and it is almost purple. It gets me where I am going. I'm talking big, but I still have those 17 boxes I have not unpacked. I will wait till after that year is up, maybe longer. We talk about keeping up houses, keeping up vehicles, I guess I could rent a vehicle too. I like tiny cars. The Ford Ranger is small, but I like smaller. Guess if it goes out I will lease a car. Gotta teach my granddaughter to drive first. She is afraid. My cousin was in her 60s before she learned how to drive. We are a little backward sometimes in the south.

Gin, try doing like I do and talk to him anyhow. I don't know why, I look at the clouds and talk to him, look at the moon and talk to him, and I talk to him before I go to bed. I don't see him, I don't hear him, and I have not woke up thinking he was beside me in a long time. If I dream of him the Xanax causes amnesia. The comedian Martin Short goes out onto his patio and talks to his wife. Of course, he has a drink. But he carries on a conversation with his wife. He even answers for her. My dad used to work the extra board for the RR. That meant he was away from home a whole lot. I was an only child for nearly nine years. When I was about five I would ride my tricycle on the porch and yell for my daddy. I remember telling her "Listen Mama, I think he hears me." Well, I am that five-year-old again, and sometimes I think Billy hears me. I am going to think he hears me. I can see his dear bearded face and I am him and he is me. So, I am going to have to be satisfied that as long as I am alive, so is he. I have to think that way. I know you all live in your homes that you lived in with your mate. I know that would be impossible to give up. But, I had no attachment to my house. The smartest thing for myself was to move to the apartment. If anything goes wrong at all, my (what do I call him), apartment keeper upper guy takes care of it. He even changes the AC filter when they come to spray for bugs. No bugs so far. But Kay, Billy's ashes are in an urn. If I had put them at that house, I could not have left. He and/or I was going to take the urn in the RV on the other seat. I don't think I can handle an RV. We do what we have to do. We all do. I do have family to help me, and they will, but I don't want to ask them. Remember how I felt about my mom taking my sister's life away from her by having to live with her 11 years. Please Lord, that is my nightmare.

You are already an angel in my estimation. My mom just passed away and her hospice nurses were total angels of mercy. I do not know how to praise you enough, but you my lady are on the highest realm of people. I am so sorry you have to be ;human. I do not think hospice nurses are humans. I think you all are the ones who help us handle the passing of our loved ones. Mama's hospice nurse gave me a book on grief. In it the main refrain was that it was okay to be angry with God. And I was, and am not quite over it yet. I do have/have had a strong faith that has taken a terrible hit and know that is what I have to find. You have to try to keep your faith and please never show him the anger for giving up that I did. I did not know he was leaving, but he did. I cannot get over my selfish anger, I will always hate that. But, he loved me, he tried to save me from so much, he literally saved my life twice, but I could not save him once. I think my angel person that you know more about this than I do already. And, we are here.

Patty, that is why I would have a hard time finding a counselor. It has to come from someone who has experienced grief. I don't wish that on anyone though. And, I talk to Billy all the time. I look up at the moon and talk to him. Some nights like last night watching the game, I felt he could see it too. He never talks to me, but sometimes I feel a closeness, maybe just in my head, but whatever it is, I will take it. I am him and he is me.

I would not face it. I was going to have a miracle. When he turned his beautiful hands up to me in submission to what he knew was going to happen I got angry. That is all the advice I can give you. For the rest of my days I will have that guilt. I know he forgives me. But you see, I knew they said he was terminal but I would not accept it. I would not let him talk to me about it. He talked to our son and he spared me. I had had two miracles and had lived through them. I just knew he was not going to die. It was impossible. Only, it was not impossible. I think your writing now shows you are further along than i was. If I was allowed miracles, then he should have been too. I am so sorry you are going through this. I wanted to go first. I should have. But at some point I should have allowed him time to talk to me. One time he said "don't you know I see the worry in your eyes." I told him "no, we are going to have a miracle." There are some good people on here a lot smarter than I am. Just love and accept him for as long as you can. Then, come and talk to us. I visited my first time at three days afterwards.. We were married 54 years. I know so many wish for that many years. I wished for 54 more. We only knew for five weeks.

Marita, just keep on keeping on. That is all any of us can do. Some times I get on a writing kick and cannot shutup. Sometimes I go back and delete it. Most times I just have run on fingers about nothing. Jump in anytime.

We always watched the Razaorbacks together, as a family. They enjoyed their Dad's reactions. Sometimes he was loud. He had lost hearing in one ear entirely. I could not muster up much initiative to watch this year. Last night though, TCU was supposed to beat Arkansas by some 50 points or so. In the 2nd overtime I found myself looking upward and repeating Billy's favorite thing to say "It's time for an interception." There was no interception, but we still won. Knocked TCU out of the top 25 and put us at #25. The season is just beginning. For some reason, I felt Billy had the best seat at the game. I have never been a Cowboy fan. Of course, Drew Brees and the NO Saints are/have been our team. By chance, the quarterback that took Romo's place is from Haughton, just about 10-15 miles from where I live. He is a rookie. He was Billy's nephew's son's best friend in high school. I had to pull for the Cowboys. He did great, but NO and the Cowboys both lost by one point.. It is not near as much fun without Billy, but I will watch. I put off watching Longmire. We knew Netflix had picked it up. I did catch myself up on it though. I keep telling myself what he repeated often. I am him and he is me. Well, WE read that book he did not get to finish and WE were able to concentrate. (Last book I could concentrate on), but he and I enjoyed Longmire last night and WE will watch the new season beginning September 23rd. I'm in a better place for some reason. Not sure it will last. Getting too close to the year mark.. My little grandma survived about 30 years after she lost her beloved that she missed every day. I read her book as a young adult. I reread it as an old widow. I saw a lot of us in her book. I read her telling about people telling her to go on trips, date again (she was only 55 when he passed away, he was 12 years older.) Of course that would never have happened. I sat with her when she was semiconscious as she was dying from another cancer. She had had the radiation, she had surgery, she had overall sepsis, she had a nervous breakdown (all before she was even 30) (she mentions none of these in her book), but the main refrain is how much she missed him. When she was mumbling going in and out of consciousness I heard her say "I couldn't be a wife to him." Somehow having seven children in ten years and raising his two young brothers and a sister. I think she was a "wife" to him. But, even after nearly 30 years after his death, she still had guilt. So, we are going to feel what we are going to feel. And, if we live long enough, we might feel it for a number of years. But she survived. The grief was a big weight, but she still survived. No matter how much family we have, no matter how many friends, there are some things we have to handle alone. We can commiserate with each other, but it is our grief to carry. Hopefully, like Steve, we will have moments of clarity.

My son thinks I am psychic. I know I am just psycho..

Oh Butch, that smile could make anything better. She is such a day brightener to see that pretty face. She makes me smile too.

I don't write to Billy. I write to myself about Billy. I talk to Billy, all the time. And, of course, my main words to him are "I don't know Billy, I just don't know. I don't know how, I don't know what to do, and you are not talking to me to tell me what to do." That is the main refrain. But, when I am alone driving, I talk to him. He still does not talk back to me. Somehow or other, I need clouds in the sky. Maybe that is his white beard. It was not totally white and sometimes storm clouds hear me more than a cloudless sky. The moon used to listen to me. Do you know that I do not get out at night to look for the moon? For once in my life, my sky is moonless. Now, if I am brave enough to drive somewhere at night and the moon is shining, I do talk to it too. I cry to the moon. I have not got to the point of howling at it yet though. I might though, if I am brave enough to venture out at night, in the future. Addendum: I do remind myself often of him saying "I am you and you are me." I also remind myself of him saying "the one left must stay." Okay, if I am him and he is me, then we are still here, and dammit to H, I am staying, for awhile anyhow.

Steve, I sure hope I live that long to feel like that. I would just be satisfied with looking at his pictures without crying. But then, if I don't live that long, then maybe I will be with him. I am proud of you, that gives hope to all of us.

I loved football. We liked the Razorbacks back when a hometown boy named Joe Ferguson played for them and never quit. He went on to play for the Bills, I think. He has had many fights battling cancer and has survived I am happy to say. I cannot get my interest back in football or anything, just like I am sure is the same for all of you. Things are just not as much fun. And Steve, I could not accept Billy's death, even when he held his hands out to me in the show of giving up. There are so many things we have to forgive ourselves for. I know Billy would forgive me, but the hardest person to forgive is myself. And, I think that goes for all of us, no matter how hard we tried. I won't be able to talk myself into forgiveness and no one ever will be able to. And just the simple thing of a football game, that becomes an ocean to swim, when you don't know how to swim. And, even if you know how to swim, you realize it is impossible. We can only hope the weight does not drown us. We can only hope.

Somehow, I did what I was not supposed to do during the first few months, I moved. Last night when I went to bed, listening to the noises of all the other apartment dwellers, it hit me that this is where I am supposed to be. I even wrote in the journal that I had torn all the pages out of and destroyed. Nothing sad. Nothing final. Only a few lines. I was not crying when I wrote the words. I do not miss the house I left, I do not miss the town, I do not miss the state. I miss Billy in a way I cannot quantify. But, at that time I also felt like I had to move on. Today, I have to do a few things and I will do them by myself. I have had someone with me nearly continuously since Billy left. And suddenly I am terrified. We go through so many waves of grief all the time it is a wonder any of us can come up for breath. I have what I call a congenital tremor. It used to be. It now may have advanced to early Parkinson's disease, which we have a lot of in our family. My very contaminated by radiation "innards" won't let me take many medications. Whatever it is, as long as it lets me stand upright, as long as I don't have to depend on someone, I will just tolerate it. Mechanical work can be done. I can still use a hammer and nails. I am not as sure of myself as I was a year ago. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

I have stopped it too many times to count. This is one way my high school friends and I keep up with each other though. Sometimes I post and delete. I keep hearing my mama saying "fools names and fools faces always appear in public places." Last night I got the initiative to go through boxes. My only problem was it was around midnight. That is the witching hour for me. I have to go to bed. Alas, this morning my midnight initiative is gone.

Steve, then you had to see James Cromwell in the movie "Still Mine." I saw it with Billy before we knew he was sick or that Mama had Alzheimer's. I do not know how it would make me react right now, but as slow moving as it was, the story behind it made me remember it as a life,. a real life, a man and woman and family and the government. And sometimes we think we have it bad in America, but I guess all countries have rules and regulations to follow. I love James Cromwell, but I love Genevieve Bujold also. They played it beautifully. Once it showed James taking an outside shower and I thought he had on longhandle underwear, but that was just skin. I guess we all are subject to gravity. Slow, but very good movie. Might be too sad right now though. I'm glad I watched it a couple of years ago.

I never knew my mom was "different." Small paper mill town people, country red necks. I say that with pride. If we were poor we never really knew it. Never went without a meal. I remember her taking a can of Campbell's soup and it served all four of us, with crackers and dessert. We never left the table hungry. Always had clothes to wear. Mama made me wear "Lil Abner" shoes to school because they lasted. All the girls wore pixie shoes and I wore clodhoppers. Not only that, I pulled them off when I came in from school. Damn feet stayed size 6-7 from the time I was a kid till I finished school. Could not outgrow those shoes. But, I did have shoes. She did the best with what she had. She had very many qualities that I wish I had. I have been more down lately, withdrawn, and for reasons we all know, for reasons we all share. This was written on my Facebook by my daughter this morning. Now, when I fuss about my kids, just ignore the hell out of me. Our daughter wrote this: .Even in times of death, we try to maintain some sense of normality, but sometimes that sense never comes. I have figured out through watching my own Mama who was with her best friend and soul mate for almost 55 years, trying to find that sense of normality for almost the past year, and it never coming for her, is called surviving. Not healing. We never become whole again ... we are survivors. My Mama is a survivor. And she is learning to do it a little bit more each and every day. I love you, Mama. Our son wrote this: This is wonderful Kelli, and I love you for writing it. Mama, I think of the words from a movie about a pig who herds sheep. The man would say "That'll do pig . That'll do. I really had to do a double read on what our son wrote. Then, I remembered the movie "Babe" about the pig raised by sheep herding dogs and I cried. Scott always quotes his daddy often "Your mama gets a pass, son." My sister even has gotten in on trying to help me. So I have plenty of help, I will pick myself up. I told you all I was selfish. ADDENDUM: Thank you WW for those kind words. You have to love everyone on here and you have to feel their feelings and hurts as your own and you know you are not alone in this world. And the film was beautiful Patty.

As if we didn't know, there are crazy people in this world. I lost a lot of weight with the cancer and a woman said she would not mind having cancer if she could lose weight like I did. Yeah, she should have gone through what I had to go through to lose the weight. I could not believe her. But now..........I believe anything.

Butch, I know you are tired. I quoted from a book I am reading and it was our very own Marty's quote. It was on Labor Day and that is supposed to be a day of rest. She quoted what grief really was "It's called grief work because finding your way through grief is hard work. If you put it off like a messy chore, it just sits there waiting for you." Marty Tousley. So you are tired because this has been a terrible year of anxiety and grieving work for you. Your in my heart. And, I believe that so much.

WW, I think you can handle them. I get on kicks where I cannot quit eating till I finally throw up and that is not good. Then I will lay off for awhile and go on the Boost, but a strong wind won't blow me away. I did that at first but have gained it all back. No exercise here at all and that might be part of my problem. Gonna start walking again. Figured I was fixing to die so I better be extra careful, but I was walking right after the colon burst (just cannot get too far from the house), TMI. I get sore from just sitting around feeling sorry for myself I guess. Maybe if I start my walking again it will help. But, I only did that when Billy was there. Guess maybe that is one thing we cannot do and that is just give up. If I can get over the guilt of not grieving my mom and this time of year about three of us have to go through, maybe next year won't be as crazy. I know it will not be having a good time, but maybe we can still keep putting one foot in front of the other instead of being a frozen statue like I am being. I think pastor it will be.

Shopping today. I read their specialties. Alcoholism, addiction, PTSD, anxiety and down at the bottom, grief. I called a geriatric psychiatrist, I can come in tomorrow, oh wait, I am not an established patient, I have to wait till the 14th, no, what was my birth date again. I said to just forget it and hung up. When it comes down to it what can they do for me? I cannot take medicine. I have taken my second Xanax today because I was feeling caged in and I don't know to what. It is simple enough, the year is coming up, my daughter is either suffering or she isn't. We never know. But what if she is. I keep thinking about the tombstone with "see I told you I was sick." I offered to call her neurosurgeon, who I know from the old hospital, one of his RN's I know personally and this person who always wants my help went into a frenzy of "no leave it alone, I want to do it myself." We never know. Mama is gone. My sister asks for nothing but I help anyhow. She is to come into some money from Mama's rural electric which saves back a lot of money. When Daddy passed, Mama got a lot of money. I have signed everything over to her. Cannot worry about that. The thing is, I have to make myself hold it together because of my granddaughter or she will be living in a situation that will drive her crazy. So, it is normal grief and I have hit an anxiety period. I tried watching TV, did not help. I am going to read for awhile. I know this is my not grieving my mother and the time coming up that Billy passed, he was sick this time last year, and I am just reliving it. I relived it right after he passed and then I had periods of numbness. Now Mama is gone, I can grieve Billy, but he has been gone for a year. Yet it just happened. I go over what I will say to a therapist and I just said the same thing to you all. And you didn't tell me my hour was up. Addendum: My granddaughter is in her room. She won't see me like this, but the agitation has made her seek solitude. I will have to purposefully calm that down. I can do it. She lost her "Dade" and her grandfather, the only daddy she ever knew. I don't let her see this mood. I have been too agitated and I hate that, and that is why she went in her room. She has a TV and as early as we had to get up these past two days, she is probably asleep. She is the most important thing and the reason I have to straighten out. I will. I honestly think I need to go to a pastor, but not the Episcopalian scholar.