Margm

Kay, my dear uncle would hear of nothing else. His kids are going to be buried somewhere else. He is an old fashioned Baptist. Football scholarship to college and then a coach for many years. Good man, sometimes comes across as arrogant, but he is okay. The type that has had to learn that his way is not the same way all people want to travel through life. He is one of the greatest generations, so he wants to be buried, wife wants to be cremated. (I'll let them argue that one out), they have been married 64 years. I learned something today. (Hallelujah). This came from my son. I was not simple like Billy (not simple minded, just accepting what he could see). He said he would believe in ghosts if he saw one. I have never seen one, and this does belong in the surrealism topic. All my life, even as a child and teenager I have been "haunted." Not by certain haunts, just very uneasy, arm hairs standing stiff kind of things. Does not happen all the time. My mama's house is one of those places, always has been. They built it so no one else ever lived in it. But, there was so much negativity in that house, even when no one but myself was there, that I never could stay in it. A room in my grandma's house, I could not go into it. They had built the house, so I don't understand that one. A house off the Buffalo River that was on the historic farms list. I went inside and came directly out. I could not get away fast enough. Going up Signal Mountain and hearing the voices of people that obviously to the naked eye were not there, that really did not haunt me, but it happened. Then we went to a mountain and were going to park the RV on BLM land. I had to leave. Beautiful place, but it was haunted by something. My son explained it to me. My mom and sister have so much negativity in their lives now and before that the negative energy drives me away. My aunt's house. She has always been so negative about everything that I cannot be comfortable in her house. So, I am haunted. Scott always said I was psychic because I would say something had happened before anyone had told me. To me, that was natural because I expected things to happen ahead of time because I knew the people playing "the game." Not psychic, probably psycho. I am not haunted by Billy. Nothing negative about him. He was not perfect, our first part of our marriage was totally negative, lots of trouble, lots of water under those bridges. Yes, he was a good man before he passed away. He is not a saint now, although I think God might give him a pair of wings for putting up with me for so long. Daddy will be the one to tell God that Billy needs wings. This actually made sense to me. So in real life, we do inherit something from our children besides insanity.

Nah, if you do it right you can be crazy out in the world too. I had a supervisor once tell me "You know Marg, you really are insane, but its a nice insane." I think she meant I was not a wild woman with scissors or knives. And, Gwen, I hope you are feeling better. My friend's mother lost her first husband, loved her 2nd husband, and loved her 3rd husband. They all passed away, but after that last one Alzheimer's took her. Her daughter is on her second husband and after 11 or more years, her 2nd one is barely hanging on. Following in her mother's footsteps. You look at them and you wonder if it is possible to love someone else. And no, it is not possible. Even if it were, would you want to go through this again? It's true, life is a bitch and then you die. But, we had fun a bunch of years. And, a thousand times a day I tell Billy that I cannot believe he left me. And tomorrow is granddaughter's counselor, next day is my daughter's counselor and funeral home puts Mama's cremains right beside Daddy and the dates are all filled in. Also told my uncle that yes, Billy and I will take the plot behind my mom and dad and I will put a stone up for us. He is old fashioned, so yes, I am going to put Billy in with all my kinfolks. After 54 years, they were his too. Besides the cemetery is beautiful, my grandparents and my great grandparents and besides, what can Billy say? I guess it is nice to know you have somewhere to go. Gin, I am glad they found out what was causing the problem. Just today I read that the non-steroidal anti-inflammatories were good to help slow down or ward off Alzheimer's. Guess what, I cannot take them either. Only Tylenol. You remember what Tylenol does, it makes a person less empathetic. Okay, I am. Anyhow, hope everyone feels better.

Nothing is shameful on here. I took prescription biphetamines in the 1970's for seven years. They helped me work the midnight shift at the hospital, but they also make you very friendly. I was friendly enough as it was. They were so very hard to get off of, it took years. Sometimes I think they burned up some vital brain cells. (I don't miss them), (The brain cells either) and if I took one now (illegal) it would kill me with just the fast heart rate. We all do things we regret. The thing is, if I could live my life over I would not change a thing except maybe grab a baseball bat and beat the hell out of Billy every time he had that nasty snuff in his mouth. Might not have changed a thing. Sometimes though, I think it would have been easier if he had left me for some other woman that might have saved his life. Hey, my mom lived to be 95 on cigarettes. She said they were her friends. She sure did not have human friends, so maybe they were. We learn some things along the way but losing Billy only taught me empathy and grief. I could do without both of those.

One thing we all have, we are all naked in our pain. We share. I hate that saying that misery loves company, but sometimes people understanding same misery is appreciated. None of this life seems real. It is not real. As far as old. I was not old with Billy. All life was possible. All things were possible. I let myself go and do not care what I eat, as long as it is on the diet plan that will eventually make life shorter. I've lived a long time. Some things I cannot change. I just do have to protect myself. I don't know how to do that. Billy knew how. I have to learn. I hate teaching an old dog new tricks.

That is it in a nutshell. We do the best we can. I am just tired of worrying. And, we are all shells of our former selves. My mom was a true shell though, she did not live in her body, some strange foreign lady lived in it. I pray I can escape that. I always said I wanted to be "bored to death." I don't think that will be possible. I would like to go reading the new "Outlander" book, if she ever writes it. I was given a chance to review her eight other books. I said that I did not think 25 pages should be wasted on one sexual encounter. Right below me on the list was a 74-year-old woman stating she especially liked the sexual encounters in the book. Hmmm, I deleted all the books from my Kindle (they were 700-1000 pages long). Maybe I will read them now.

I feel more selfish. I want to be selfish, but I still lay on the floor and let people walk over me. Vulnerable??? Maybe, but if that is true, Billy and I both were always vulnerable.

Surreal: of, related to, or characteristic of surrealism; of or like a dream; fantastic, hallucinatory, bizarre, etc. I have TV, I have the same programs. I watch what Bri wants to watch. I have no interest in TV. I have interest in my granddaughter. I want my sister and two kids to be safe. I have a terrible horror of ending up like my mom. How do I stop this? At what point do I see that I am headed down that road. Will my animal instincts give me the strength to go off by myself and die? I don't mean to purposefully kill myself, but just something to escape from the horror we had to see my mom go through. My Billy did not choose his death, other than possibly the smokeless tobacco poisoning him to death. I go to bed in mine and Billy's bed. Occasionally, not often, I feel his presence next to me, I reach and realize he is gone. I get up from the bed. I do not cry, I just get up and live. If this is what we call living. I think it is existing. There are things offered to help me. I want no part of any of them. I moved. Something I was not supposed to do. I do not miss my old home. It was empty of Billy. The apartment never had Billy in it, yet when I hear a door open or footsteps in the hall my first thoughts are of Billy, then I instantly move on. I cry sometimes. The sky hears my voice, it sees my tears, but no one else does. I talk to clouds, I talk to the moon, I talk to stars, I talk when I am driving alone, I talk to the wind and the voice is carried away like leaves in an autumn breeze. They are all to Billy, and now also to my mom. My mom left a long time ago, but her shell remained. I don't want to be a shell. One time I visited my mom. In a haunted voice she said "I cannot pay my house insurance." What!!!! My mom never missed a payment. My mom sometimes saved $500 a month. Now it is gone?. Like Billy said, if you die your worries and fears are over and it is placed upon the people you left behind. My mom is gone now as I will be one day. I am falling into the same trap she fell into. I won't relate what all, but I have needy people in my family and a lifetime of being an enabler. Mama never had to worry about me taking, but she always said my sister had no one to take care of her like I did. She had to help her. If I say "no" am I afraid of being alone? Why can't I say just those two letters "n-o"? I think sometimes that robbing a bank, being caught, sent before a judge and telling him if I am let go then I will do it again and again. I don't think they send us to insane asylums anymore. If they kept me in jail I would have no money to give, no life to live, the state to take care of me, friends and enemy's Billy and I worked 80 years together. Bette Davis was so correct, old age is not for sissies.. I don't want pity, adoration, fear or any other adjectives, verbs or nouns. (I had to make this correction because I obviously do not know what an adjective is, thought I did.). I wonder sometimes what would Billy do. I don't have any answers. In the over 54 years we were together we never really ever talked about dying. Other people did that, not us. We both were going to live forever........but we didn't. .

Now that is the best answer you can give. That ought to even be good to use around the work place. No curse words used. And, its the truth.

I read a book called Grief, One Day at a Time. I cannot remember if you put books in italics, underlined, or quotations, so just bear with me. I have figured out what is wrong with all of us. This is my today's "one day at a time." Grief is itself a medicine, William Cowper The rest of this is written by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D. I like some of what he writes (sometimes). You might hear grief described as an illness or a "condition" some time. That's because our scientific-method-obsessed evidence-based discipline of medicine -- which includes mental health -- has tried to take ownership of grief and mourning. But grief isn't an illness or disorder. It's the natural and necessary counterpart to having loved. We don't need to be "treated" for our grief. There's nothing wrong with us. We just need to grieve and to express our grief. That's it. Nothing more; nothing less. And, so reading this, since grief is itself a medicine, the only thing wrong with all of us is we have overdosed. (I'm sorry, it did not give me any formulation to counteract this overdose). I think we just have to walk it off. Or in some cases maybe sleep it off. Who was that mythical fellow, Rip Van Winkle??? I think the only organs it messes with are the brain and heart. (I know, I ache all over too) As an addendum to the above, thank you Marty for allowing us to express our grief.

Karen, most of the rain is around I-10 and South Louisiana, although it looks to be in the Southeastern part of the state also. My parish/county borders Arkansas and we have had showers but nothing bad. Supposed to rain for awhile though this next week. I lived on a hill in Arkansas. I don't know how these people around here do if it floods. In Arkansas a little stream can turn into a torrential river fast. Even living on the lake we were never bothered with flooding. I have friends though that it is at their backdoor. I have some more friends up here who lived across the lake from where we lived and they had to vacate their house and are having it redone. That is something I don't have to worry about anymore, hallelujah. And the anger/bad mood, well that is something they will have to put up with or not come around. Some days I just do better talking about the weather. Thanks for thinking about me. That was sweet.

I am going to put this on here. Just want you all to know, I am really doing as okay as is possible. I won't say the people who do not understand my moods, but I will say that word has gotten back to me about my "anger" and my moods. I really try not to share my anger, but if I am not "happy-go-lucky" as I used to be, people seem to think that I have some illness. I know you all have received the same attention from well meaning people. Sometimes it comes from blood kin and not from well meaning friends. I had to send the thing written by Maya Angelou to them. I apologized for my moods that do not bode well with the masses, but told them I had to handle my own moods as I saw fit at the moment. If it did not please them, then I was sorry. And, that is how it is. I am not a paper doll that they can change my feelings with a new cut-out dress or smile. Hey, I am doing okay actually "for the mood I am in." It suits me. If they do not want to be around it, that is fine.. Did you actually know that there are people who live off of praise and accolades for grief? I just want to hide in my shade and will face the sun when I am ready, on my own time, on my own terms. If that does not work for them, well, that is just their problem, not mine.

Butch, my mantra must have been "Billy and I were enablers." My daughter and I only get along when she wants something. My sister lives about five miles away. Scott lives in the RV about six miles away, Kelli lives about three miles away. Brianna lives with me, but I know that won't be forever. She wants her Mamol to watch TV with her so I have been introduced to all the TV series that Billy would not have watched on Netflix and Hulu (I think that is what that thing is called). Myself, I had rather sit and read. I still cannot concentrate so I read chapters of old movie stars biographies and autobiographies. I can put them down easily. I still have all of Billy's C.J. Box books to read, but it will be later when my mind does not skip around everywhere. I am going to my first grief group at a church that is about 10 miles away tomorrow night. Oh, I am familiar with all my surroundings, but it starts at 7:00 and ends at 8:00 p.m. and I have panic attacks, full blown ones, if I drive at night. Might be something I need to work on. But then again, I don't see very good at night. We are here for you. We all might be hundreds of miles away, but we also are as close as that computer screen in front of you. There is something you might find, you might find that being alone sometimes is not the most terrible thing in this world. Being alone without our mate is the most terrible thing in our world right now, but one thing Billy and I were very good at, we were excellent at being alone "together." I know one alone is not the same, but it is when I am truly alone I talk to Billy. Good luck with this adjustment. You might find that after awhile you really like it. And do inquire about that "life alert" necklace, pendant, or however it comes.

Her name was Alvie. My dad's name was Elvie. I do not know why they gave him the initials I.D. for a middle name. The way it was said sounded like LVID. So, he dropped the I.D. somewhere along his short life. He was only 64 when he passed away, and at the time I was about 40. I thought he was an old man and had lived a full life. He honored his wedding vows (at least some of them) and he and Mama both wrote daily diary's. Many books. I cannot read them. After he passed I did read one page of Daddy's diary. It said "I love her so much." I will never forget him saying that because they did not live their love, they just stayed together. I cannot imagine your MIL being "quiet for the rest of the trip to church." I can imagine what was going on in her mind.

We won't ever lose them. They live in our memory forever. I don't remember missing my dad like this, but my mom really left a few months ago. I enjoyed listening to her talk about her five husbands. She said they were all healthy when she married them but they just died. (My daddy was her only one). Her memory now is bitter sweet, but Billy's memory is knife sharp hurting still. I was lots younger when my dad passed away. It did not hurt as bad. But, maybe it is because of the open wound that Billy left and this is just pour salt into that wound. I was with Billy through the loss of both his parents. Your MIL sounds wonderful. Cannot beat "country raised." Kay, I am not like Arlie, I have never been at a starving point, but oh I know how he felt. I remember praying "God, if you will just let me get over this" but I lied and would do it again and again.

Tomorrow is mine Ana. Not looking to celebrate at all. Want no reminder. Never cared for them anyhow.

George, I don't know if this is a myth or not, have not looked it up. I think my mom told me if you let a mule into a field of clover and do not take it out, he will "founder" himself. Now, you know me, and you know I claim to be country redneck, well, for sure I am country, but I think I am also part mule. If I like something sometimes I will eat too much of it. So, having a colon rupture on you kinda teaches you how the mules feel before they die. For some reason, I now only select foods that I can eat. I remember (as a child) rolling on the floor from eating too much, I was hurting so bad. See, part mule I had to go back and correct that so you all would not think I was still rolling on the floor from eating too much. I am not sure I could get back up if I rolled on the floor now.. You know, my mom had a way with words. I remember her saying "flounder" but the word is actually "founder." Bless her heart, after Daddy passed away an old acquaintance wanted to date her. (I feel so sorry for him). She would not date him because he wanted to put her up on a "pretzel." I will never quit mentioning my mom and her special language. She might have crossed over that fine line between genius and insanity sometimes, but she will be remembered.

I have found when I have an addiction to food (which I do) that if I eat just enough of it to make me nauseated I will lose the craving. For awhile it was the hard twisted Cheetos and I would often stop at the $ store on the way to Mount Ida from Minden. Finally, I ate too many. Now that is off my list. I don't crave the ice cream anymore, not after I finished off the half gallon by myself. I can be pretty hoggish. Nothing healthy on my low residue diet.

Kay, she did not know me at all the last few weeks. I did not get my feelings hurt. It was just the death face I saw for the last two weeks. My mom passed away a long time ago. But, she left this dependent creature that in real life she would not have wanted. And, somehow, someway, I have to fix it where my kids do not have to see this from me. I remember animals sometimes wanted to go off by themselves and die. If we let them, if we did not totally domesticate them, I think they still would. I'm sorry, other than the fact that I would have been taking my own life, it was not a scary thought going off in the woods, way away from civilization. I think sometimes we still have that remnant of animal in us. I thought about Billy today (like I don't think about him every waking hour), but you have to have known my mama. Daddy used to try to watch TV and my mama would not hush. That woman could talk (as much and more than I write). Constantly. When I was a teenager (now don't think bad of me), but I prayed "please God, just make her shut up, don't make her sick, but please just take away her voice for ten minutes). Well, it has been gone now for awhile. I wonder, if in Heaven her voice is restored. If it is, my daddy and Billy have gone fishing.

I am going to quote myself and say this. There is no way, even with my mom, that I can really say I could tell someone to "end the patient's life." I could not do it. Not even if Dr. Kevorkian was standing right beside me (which would unnerve me) because I think he has gone on to his own rewards, good or bad.

I come on here and read people with problems that seem insurmountable. There are young people, people from other countries, different cultures, different losses, older people like myself who trudge through their days, some people that are afraid to get out of their houses. We have lost our "Mr. Fix-it" and he or she was able to fix each day that we could comfortably live out our life. Then, poof they are gone. I wonder about people we have met on this forum. The woman whose husband was murdered, the one with the young children. I don't know where she went. I hope she was able to get help, OMGosh, that woman needed help. Our little mother from Brussels, Debbi, trying to face a country filled with terrorists and a young son just old enough to be the target of trouble. We lose people somewhere along the way. They had a voice. I think there were two separate people from South Africa, different cultures, different lives, did they get help? One of our "old timers" left and I read between the lines why. I know he was not through lending a voice, we valued his voice, but maybe he needed to get away rather than share in the suffering we mostly do. He seemed a loner and maybe our hurting made him hurt all the more. What is for me is not for everyone. Many a time I have written a long "short story" like I am doing now. I go back and read it over and erase all the words. That is all they were, just words. What do I know? True, I just lost my mother, but you see, it seems I lost her a long time ago so the suffering sort of straight-lined. My kids, middle aged people, are seeing that maybe instead of taking, instead of being needy, they see I won't be here forever, maybe not much longer even and one of them is growing up finally. Billy and I were terrible enablers and one is still asking, one is still taking, but eventually even that one will have to understand that I cannot be here forever. And the young widows, the widowers, the ones with young children that have to go it alone. They cannot see a life in front of them, but me being so much older, me having lived many more years, I see that life ahead of them, even if they cannot. And the rest of us. Well, we are still here, and like Billy said "the one left must stay." Do we have any choice. Natural death is a choice but suicide is not. Coming off the amphetamines in the 1970's, I once saw suicide as a choice. It was an angry choice. I'm glad I did not take that choice. Life is worth living, given a chance, giving yourself a chance, we might not be happy right now, but just trying to get Billy's heart, his granddaughter, having a life of her own, trying to see that innocent life live, that is one element of happiness. Please just live. One foot in front of the other until you can walk a block, a mile, the rest of your life. Not to honor the ones we lost, although that is not unreasonable, but just to honor ourselves.

I got a utility cart at Walmart to haul my clothes from here to washateria. Not far. It said it took 30 minutes to put together. Mainly the big bar at the bottom that holds the big wheels and it has 6 washers. I lost one washer about the size of a dime with a hole in it in a box with a million pieces of stuff in it. That sucker is gone. So I still have five. Those little straight stick things that go into the four holes in the big stick (axle) kept falling out. Okay your supposed to bend them with pliers which I have to find. I do this, but I was supposed to put on the springs first. Wait, I cannot find but one spring, there were two of them. Now I have to unhook those straight pins and straighten them out. To hell with it all. I am going to bed. This 30 minute job has taken three hours and I've lost two parts already. Another day tomorrow. No, I have to run my daughter to doctor and my granddaughter to school. I will never forget my mom looking at me and saying "It's hard" talking about Billy's dying. I cried, it was my mom again, but then she looked at Marcy's Marvel Heroes Tee shirt and asked her were they her children. But just for one instant, just for one second, it was my mom. I have known cancer, cancer has visited me, my grandmother, my sister, my dad, and killed them all but me and my sis. My grandma outlived one, but another got her. My mom did not hurt till right at the end. Cancer hurts, cancer kills. Alzheimer's steals a person's mind and leaves a useless body and it just won't leave till it takes every dignity you ever remembered. My friend, mine and Billy's age, his wife has a neurological disorder from riding the tractor while her dad sprayed poison on his fruit trees. Killed her father and brother. It left her with something like Alzheimer's, but not quite the same. Outcome and symptoms are the same. He gets her up each day. They come and bathe her and fix her up and sit her in a chair or bed. The beautician comes .and fixes her hair and makeup. She was once one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She is not there anymore but her husband still treats her like she is the same. He has gotten mean. I think most long-term caretakers might get mean, tired out. Cancer kills, cancer hurts terribly, but eventually death is imminent. So it is with Alzheimer's. Sometimes it just takes longer and it is a terrible thief. My heart goes out to each of you who have had to put up with ALS, cancer, strokes, paralysis, or any of the neurological diseases. With any death where we lose our loved ones, my heart is with each of you. We treat our animals better than we treat our humans.

Thanks George, much needed. Both.

Okay, this is for everyone.

My mom was a beauty and for some reason that picture enters my mind. Her sitting at her triple mirror and putting on her red lipstick. RED, something redheads could not wear very good, but my mama looked gorgeous in red. She would smile at herself with her teeth showing and she had beautiful teeth. That is what I remember, that is what I will remember. I had a picture of a ghost hug, but could not make it stick. Will look elsewhere for it. Thank you everybody.

I can eat a whole half gallon of salted caramel ice cream, and I did. My tummy won't take alcohol anymore. My head neither, probably. But, sometimes when I am feeling mean or cowardly, I could drink a half gallon of Margarita's. Might be my last though, but what a way to go, except for the throwing up. I'm fine. Actually, sad she had to go, but Mama was not there anymore and doubt she could have gone through another harvest season if she could not get in the dirt. I hate Alzheimer's as bad as cancer.