Margm

And as far as crying, I think we need a little tiny stick-it note, like we put on our envelopes for our address in the left corner and where it says marital status we should be able to stick this note: (Please don't ask my marital status unless you want me to start crying.) And stick it where they ask the question. I don't know why, but when I am around a policeman I might cry just from the fact that he is a policeman. Mama must have scared me of them when I was a kid. Only explanation I can come up with. The coyote calling CD's and all the tapes and books, the "animal man" of the sheriff's department was so happy to get them. Now, I do not know what an animal man looks like but I picture coonskin cap, vest of animal skin and various animal garments for various weather. Like right now might be one of those animal skins that hangs in front and back. Maybe I need to introduce myself to him.

Just like my Xanax, I will have to have my forum fix so I will have my Kindle and my laptop with me but for an indefinite period of time, I am going to be gone. It is a cross between my daughter and my mother needing me right now and thankfully I have plenty of places to stay. In fact, I might take my small futon with me to sleep in the apartment if Xanax does not help me. I am going to copy and print what I wrote a friend as to my new problem. I will just get back to the house when I can. I will load up the back of the truck tomorrow though with things I might need. Gotta make an indefinite trip to Louisiana. Kelli lost her ovaries at about 20 from dermoid cysts. Then she has been scheduled for surgery more than once on her breasts, one time taken to surgery and brought right back to the room, the cyst had burst. Billy had lipomas, (fatty tumors) that were just under the skin and I think that is what this is too, just called by another name. She had 5-6 removed from her back, they thought they were lymph nodes. This hurt her but they were lipomas (or cysts). I don't know why her body makes these things. But they took an MRI back in about January of last year. There are two places on her brain (and this is a medical transcriptionist that probably is spelling these wrong, the medulla oblangata and the corpus callosum. One is about a 50 cent piece size. They radiated these places today and will do so tomorrow. Do not believe they are malignant, believe they are the dermoid cyst things, but she feels more dramatic calling them tumors, and I guess that is as good a word as any for them. Will leave in the morning indefinitely for going down there. The house will wait. And, I believe "If your going through hell" is about as good a place to post as anywhere.

Karen, your double grief is beyond anything I can comprehend. You are a strong woman and I am proud to be your friend.

Wonderful news Karen. I don't ever see the doctor at the clinic either. I see the nurse practitioner and she can prescribe. I don't want to see the doc, he is a man. When I was in my 20's I could not climb mountains. Billy smoked and he could go longer without getting shortness of breath. I wish he had kept smoking instead of that poison smokeless tobacco. So glad you are doing good.

Gwen, it is so hard. Scott is leaving the 15th and I think maybe I will move faster then. But, somehow, staying at this place we were going to leave, this place that I will have to repair and ramble around in, I cannot face that. If we had not been leaving, I probably would just stay here. Nah, I cannot stay here. I just wonder how I am gonna do in an apartment. It has a fireplace. Louisiana and a fireplace. Really goes together doesn't it? We have not used this fireplace in 10 years. You get to a whole lot of stuff that really is not stuff you want to move but then part of it was Billy's stuff. Well, damn, he is not going to use it again. I am just going to start throwing stuff away. I have those big plastic boxes with lids that clamp down, they are piled about 6 deep. My daughter says "your gonna just give it away, why fix it up." I don't want to leave her looking ugly. I hope young people with a bunch of kids buy it. It needs new life. There are two acres of woods for kids to play in. Billy never cared about keeping it up and after 10 years, I planted flowers. Really, someone who lived here before planted bulbs and we have flowers growing all seasons everywhere. I want to be away from yards. I would have already had it done but I would not let my kids touch Billy's stuff, it was mine to pack and give away. I can get to be such a witch, they learn to leave me alone sometimes.

I really cannot see how anyone would say anything bad about anyone that only tries to help. Grief has no number. I am happy to "know" Kay personally. I am happy to know a lot of you "personally." Cannot believe we all live so far away. But Kay, I picture where you live, and I know it is peaceful. I admire how you carry on your life as a single woman and I also hope that I can live up to part of that if I ever get to live alone. You know, we discuss how bad we feel when "outsiders" say crude and rude remarks to us so certainly, we would not say that about one of our own. Nah........We are kinder than that and even though sometimes we are not gentle with ourselves, I know we want to be gentle with other people who have lost. Just like in one of the books, an older woman said to a younger woman, you are young, you can find someone else. The younger woman told the older woman I will never be able to pass the milestones that your years gave you and your mate.. You do not measure love, tears, pain by years. I really hate that Tylenol. I took off a lot of what I wrote, not because I am a coward (although, I really am), but sometimes I get the notion that God has resigned and appointed me in his place. I will get moved. I am a strong woman. But like Billly said "If you die all your worries and pain will be over with and the worries and pain will be on the ones that you love." He was a prophet and didn't know it.

Marty, use me as an example. If you have to ever tell anyone about the moving part, tell them to just ask me. I had one thing going against/for me. I really thought I would be dead before now too. Maybe this was "suicide by moving." I just feel like I am running as fast as I can but when I pass any terrain, I have not moved an inch. I loved Billy very much, and he would agree if he could talk right now, but he could do no more than I am doing. But at least I could hug him and wipe all my sweat on his shirts. (Perspiration or glistening), excuse me.

I deleted my post. This is what it was about. Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch. I could keep on, but that is all I am doing. Big pieces of furniture are no problem, these little bitty things are the worse. We never could find the Neosporin, so we bought more. Guess what, I have found all that we lost. All the tubes of Carmex we lost, all the Burt's Bee's we lost, all the pencils, pens, and all this crap we got new ones, I have found all the old ones. What did I say? Bitch, bitch, bitch. Even Xanax does not help. Ignore me. I am not whistling.

I won't worry about it then. Thanks Kay. Looking forward to settling down so I can read again. TV is fine, but I sure miss reading.

We have everything with one agency and have for years. I hate it but with the house, two vehicles, the RV, we get a discount. Still hate it. When the house goes we will not use Shelter anymore.

I know, we were all talking about this the other day and I used to whistle all the time. Billy liked it when I whistled because he said he knew I was happy. So, for a few seconds, maybe I guess I was happy. But, it seemed like he should have been here too. Maybe since I did it unconsciously, maybe I will again. I was sure busy. Kinda hurt some too. Guess that is to be expected. Marita, I love your name.

Looking for the positives: I honestly feel guilty. Yes, this is stupid as they come. I am doing my regular going from one task to the other, not finishing any task, meeting up with the task I began doing in the first place. You know regular moving things and putting them in boxes. I whistled the starting of a song Brianna plays all the time by a group named 5-SOS. I whistled. I caught myself and quit, felt guilty for sure, but I whistled. I went outside and told Billy. It was a total unconscious thing to do, not even thinking. First time in over seven months. I don't know if and when I will do it again. It felt natural and then bad. I whistle when I am happy. I am not happy. I think Billy would have been happy. A tiny nonsensical moment out of time.

Maryann, how in this world can we call you "too sensitive" when our own emotions are all over the place? Honeychile, we all are a mess of emotions. I want so bad to be able to concentrate again. I am afraid my forgetfulness might be my mother's Alzheimer's and if I cannot read and retain the meaning I just as well disappear, and you can take that to mean anything. My little grandmother had cataracts. She was losing her vision. Little country woman thinking she was going blind and she did not want to live if she could not read. Cataract removal and she was in the reading business again. Here we are. Talk to us. We understand your emotions. Don't worry about being too sensitive. This is us. This is who we are. We grieve. If someone does not understand that, tell them to cut back on their Tylenol or you will quit talking to them. Seriously, yes we are sensitive. We are even sensitive to each other on here. "Did he just dis me?" Yeah, he might have, but that is okay. He or she will be different the next note. We are SPLAT all over the place. If your friend does not understand that, that is okay. You don't owe her an explanation. She will get over it. I don't go on FB near as much anymore.

Butch, I didn't listen to the music, some I just cannot listen to yet. But, I love the new picture you put up. And, as Kay says, Mary has the twins to look after. What a heartfelt thing to say Kay and strangely, it makes perfect sense. I like that.

Me too. Just saw Smoky and the Bandit, (again and again) one of them with Sally Field and Jerry Reed. Do not mean to step on anyone's sensibilities, but I am moving away from this house. I am never leaving Billy, I have six huge boxes of his stuff packed and ready for shipment. If I am not moving on, then I am hauling ass. Sorry about that. Can never leave Billy, I am taking him with me, he will always be with me and all his hunting paraphernalia that I can hang on the walls will be with me. Anyhow, I am not going to have skin grafts to my behind from sitting in one place.

Gin, I hate Tylenol. But, knowing what I do about the non-steroidal medications and the Celebrex, well, those are some things we just cannot take. Tylenol is all I can have and after that study where it showed people that took Tylenol lacked empathy, well, I have almost gotten off it. Now with this moving around, at night I have terrible leg aches so I got the Arthritis Tylenol. Took it two nights. Tylenol must be a frigging sugar pill. My thoughts are with you. I think George knows a lot about the essential oils. Sometimes we cannot take homeopathic medications either. I think the one person I put my trust in for all of these homeopathic, etc. medications is a guy named Andrew Weil, MD. Not recommending him. Look at my diet, white flour, sugar, tender meats, cakes. Anything but vegetables, nuts or seeds and NO CORN. But I can have grits. Get on your feet and start reading about taking care of your health. Honestly, losing our mates makes us where we don't give a good damn whether we live or not. Sometimes, for some reasons, we have to keep trying though. Kevin tells us to take care of our health. Remember water, rest, and something else, I forget. Remember, my train switches tracks so much I never know which one I will sleep at tonight. My thoughts are with you. Please let us know how you are doing. Read George's notes about taking care of his own medicine. And, if that doctor does not suit you, find another one. (from what we discussed). He might have been your mate's physician, but my mate's main physician, the one who was supposed to be our "family friend", the one we trusted. We never received a bill from him. Sometimes we have to be our own doctor and pick out the one that suits us. Let us hear from you.

When it all comes down to it Kay, it is just all semantics. We can substitute same words that mean the same thing. I think sometimes our grief laden brains cannot handle the word death, so I say "left me, gone off, etc." Again, they all mean the same thing. One nose is wiped with sandpaper, the other with Kleenex. Depends on what moods these Ninja mixer brains are in for the day. No offence meant. Well, that is probably a lie. I probably meant offence, but today is another day. I was mean this morning. I am mellow this afternoon. I took all Billy's coyote calling CD's and hunting books up to the Sheriff's office. This is a bunch of country boys that come from people that hunt for food a whole lot. I felt good about giving them all his hunting paraphernalia. I also told them there were no guns, he hunted with a camera. They are not getting the pictures. I did not want to leave them to the thrift store, where I had planned on leaving them. These guys are associated with the wild life officers in this county and someone might can use them. I cried when I left them. I feel good about it now. I think Billy approved. I came home and questioned my giving all the things to the sheriff's office, thinking I should have given them to the wildlife and fisheries unit. I called back up there and the woman said their "animal person" took the whole sack of books and calls. I'll bet there were at the very least $1000 worth of CD's and books in that bag. I don't know what an "animal person" is, but know they said he was happy with them. I picture a coonskin cap and animal vest and pants. It made me happy. I think Billy was happy someone appreciated getting all this. Probably not a good picture for a grief column. (On edit, I took it off). It really looks like someone I know, minus the colors, and does not belong here.

Semantics: the meaning of a word, phrase, sentence, or text. I went to bed after 1:00 a.m. this morning trying to fit a text into a smart phone. I gave up. DawnMarie, I did not give up on you though. We hate to hear words, and that is all they are, they are just words. Again, one of my mama's teachings, and as kids we learned "sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never harm them." See, this was before computers. Another phrase she quoted me: “The moving hand once having writ moves on. Nor all thy piety nor wit can lure it back to cancel half a line." I had to look this one up because Mama quoted a lot of people, mostly the Bible, but this was Omar Khayyam. So, what we write might not break our bones, but our words certainly can do harm. "Moving on and acceptance" can bring up another emotion, anger. I gave the analogy of a sack of dog poop with the word acceptance. Moving on seems like we are leaving someone behind. Yet, if we do not "move on" (perhaps using some other words) we are going to be like the woman who sat in her one place on the couch until she had to have skin grafts to her behind. So, we need kinder words than acceptance and moving on. I do not like where my mind is this morning. I have to get up from this chair and pack books. I have decisions to make. I am having to drop our credit union for another one. I received a note by email that I had not used their bill pay service in a couple of months. No, because now I have to have something in my name because Billy has "moved on." I don't know where he moved to because he and I are not communicating. I have big plastic bucket boxes piled up to be moved to the apartment I have been paying for these last two months. I am not young, but somehow being young or being old does not matter. I have not moved my muscles and bones much in over seven months. This packing and planning have me certifiable insane. Believe me, before all this happened, the colors in my big Crayola box rattled every time it was moved. "Time heals all wounds." Now that one will really bring on anger. This wound will never heal. My old bones and joints have almost had three bad falls and I know the implications if this happens. Sometimes I feel like I am swimming against the tide (and I cannot swim period.) Moving on???? Maybe my body has to move on (slowly), acceptance ???, well, I will leave the sack of dog poop outside the door. We fight the good fight. Semantics again. If I don't "move on" I will have skin grafts to my behind. If I move too fast, I will be in the hospital with hip replacements. When it all comes down to it, we do what we can, we do it at our own speed, if the anxiety gets too bad we have to get personal help, if that doctor does not fit into our criteria of helping us, we find another. In the meantime, we have each other on this forum and we have semantics. The person who said "One size does not fit all" said what we have to live. DawnMarie, Widowbysuicide, I cannot fathom the legal misery you are going through. This mental misery after living with this man for 54 years is all my wax laden, short circuited from 1970's amphetamines brain can handle. I will tell you that the people on here are the best. I also will tell you that some of them have gone through some of your legal battles themselves and they will probably message you. And Marty........well, her wealth of information kept me from suicide. And semantics again, but some days I am totally "up against the wall." Today is one of them. Now, I have beat my "run-on" fingers into submission.

Our granddaughters always have our hearts. I love her choice of head bands.

Butch, Billy wore a pair of red pants until they were threadbare. I fussed about them. So, he finally unzipped the bottom half, but he would not wear them as shorts. When clearing out his clothes I found them. I sleep with them and the pair of pants that he had replaced them with. I know we cannot get them back and sometimes I will just be sitting watching a TV show and just wonder where he is. I don't have the closeness that some people have. I hope when I get settled down that I can talk to him again. I try talking to him now and all I can tell him, Jesus and God is "I don't know." "I just don't know anything except you all need to help me." I get no answers so I must not be asking right. And, as far as being "over it," well that is just not going to happen. Well, I am supposed to believe that Mary, as well as Billy know how much we miss them. I want to believe this. I want to find this belief. I understand Butch. But, I don't think I am the only one who understands this, a lot more reading this knows how much we all miss our mates. And as far as getting over it, that is not going to happen. I guess I am not Debbie Downer, but Morose Margaret might fit me.

Thanks for the laugh Mitch. This young girl is right at 30. She honestly is a true hypochondriac. The "husband" had to go buy throw away plastic gloves because she did not want to touch herself to insert the suppositories that she had to use. I am not making fun of her. (Well, kind of), but unfortunately though she is not a relative, she will soon be one. I'm sorry, right now I have a hard time being around some people. I think I have become a mean woman. I just keep my head down and try to run from controversy. Lots of times I want to say something and I don't have Billy here to make me hold my tongue, so for my own sake, I have learned to run from some people. I might have run-on fingers, but have learned to control my tongue.

Sometimes being older has its advantages. Yes, I will go and meet with my classmates that we have kept in almost daily contact since they came out with Facebook, and before that with email. Before that, letters. Now as to age. Unfortunately, not many of us have husbands anymore. As in we are widows, most of us. I have found a little crassness from a couple, but I just consider the source and love them anyhow. We are the sisterhood of the traveling penny loafers, saddle oxfords, rolled up blue jeans, traveling main street in our small town on Friday nights, Saturday nights, and Sunday afternoon. If you were not there, the afternoon or day was a total disaster. Then we all moved on. Now we all meet up again minus the husband we had for years and years, with grown families, and unfortunately they will have to accept the fact I still look 17. I feel sorry for them. But, I will go, and I will cry, and we will meet again unless they have to scrape me up off the floor and put me in a barrel to get me home. No drinking. We come from a place where liquor is not sold. Or at least it didn't used to be. Cannot drink it anyhow. I am actually frightened. Billy would not go to family reunions with me when we first married. He was so standoffish (I thought). When he finally started going I know people had thought I was hiding him, making him stay at home. He was the life of the party, not standoffish at all. I know (if I had my mystical magical imaginative mind back) that the two cardinals that visit me often, the male and the female are Billy and Rubye my aunt. They loved each other. I loved them. Billy has all his family up there with him, but I think he and my 90 year old aunt would hang out the most in my mystical, magical, imaginative mind. Now I have to get my mystical, imaginative butt to work doing things I put off and put off. Enablers, procrastinators. I do have an RV beside the house on the pavement, and I guess my picture is under country redneck too. I am proud of my heritage.

Terri, look in Wikipedia at "enablers." Mine and Billy's pictures are there. And, if you were closer I would hug you. And you all can come live with me. I never learned now to say "no." I am glad our mates had some time for retirement.

Mitch, I can see where if you were dealing with a business that would be a bad idea. I really do not get asked how I am doing very often thank goodness. I find that just saying "I'm okay" is sufficient enough to get by. I suppose if someone asks you how you are doing, turning around to them and saying "why do you want to know" would come off as crass. So, it really is no big deal. "I'm okay" does the trick for me. Thankfully, it has not been a problem. In the big order of things, I don't think it matters. Now, I have a "friend" that you cannot ask her "how are you feeling?" Don't ever ask her that. OMGosh, we all run for cover if anyone asks her how she is feeling. We get answers that involves migraines, gallbladder, hemorrhoids, only 5 drops of urine today, and I promise you, this is not an exaggeration. There really is a mental diagnosis of hypochondria. It is a sad diagnosis. It is the writing on a gravestone "See, I told you I was sick." So in all honesty, whatever you say to questions that people ask only as something they do as friendly conversation, we just answer and don't continue the conversation unless they pin you to the wall.

Sometimes what we learn in books, what we see in writing, what is taught in a class, this is stuff that has to be lived. That is why grief counselors have to have gone through the fire before they can say something we understand. Thankfully (well, really not thankfully, because you do not wish anyone to know what we know), but when they have been touched by the flames they can teach. Some of the people on this forum know double, triple grief. Can you multiply grief x grief? I have no choice on what really happens. I feel things in my body that I know cannot be healed. I realize I am a ticking time bomb. Still, I know what I have got to try to do before that bomb explodes. Maybe I will finish, maybe I won't. If I don't finish, then I won't worry about it, will I? I have repeated Billy's words to me over and over. "If you die then all your pain,, all your worries, they will be over with. Then the worry and the pain will be on the ones that are left behind." He is worried no more. If I go, I will worry no more. I can wish that it was as simple as that. It really is as simple as that, isn't it?