Margm

Well possibly that is what I am going through myself. I can remember the past, but five minutes ago, if it involves something important, I cannot remember.

They have put my mama in what they call a Geri-chair, or Jerry-chair, not even sure of that. Mama will be 95 Thursday. I have a hard time just plain moving around, but Mama is still a contortionist. You cannot put soft restraints on her, but she needs a room sized playpen. Her mind has not told her body she cannot do things, like mine has. Yesterday she told Kelli (my daughter) that she was talking to Billy. Kelli asked her where Billy was. Mama said that he was standing right beside her (Kelli) which freaked Kelli out. Mama continues to talk to him. Kelli took a series of pictures, I will put the final picture on here. Mama was determined she was going to at least get one leg free from that damnable chair. I cannot wrestle with Mama and unless you can contain her, you have to wrestle with her. The smile she gave was one of freedom. The other pictures showed mean determination. She had managed to get one leg free. But, her skin is so thin, any machinations she makes will tear it. What makes a mind like hers not just give up? I don't understand Alzheimer's at all. I once typed a man who had gone to sleep on the RR track and both his legs were cut off. The next morning they found him laying on the floor, alive, but he was trying to walk to his cigarettes. I cannot call Mama my hero. I have known her a long time and we did not know when the Alzheimer's began. Actually, I am not sure it is Alzheimer's. She remembers too much. We used to call it senile dementia. I think I, myself, am familiar with that. I panicked yesterday, I had put my keys down to get the groceries out, I always try to remember to put them in my pocket. And, I did really get in a panic. Death, be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; for those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow (John Donne 15??-1632)

Joyce, I am just trying to leave this house. I was going to spruce it up but I am so tired of it that I am going to put the paint I bought, and I bought a lot, I am going to put a note on it and say "this is a do-it yourself house." I had Scott take off the screen door. I have been wanting to do that for 10 years. So, he was painting the black room and he heard me playing with that door. I feel like such an old woman. "Mama, you are doing that wrong. What is going to happen, you started at the bottom and that door is going to fall on you and hurt you." So, and he was not in a good mood, he quit painting and took over the old woman's task. I'm through. Stuff goes up in front of the thrift store tonight. Only my neighbors want to know if I am giving/throwing anything of value. Mostly all I have left to go through is books. That is my downfall. If I would just put them in boxes instead of trying to read them again it would be okay. I don't mean he was painting the black room black. My daughter thought she was doing New Orleans Saints colors, I guess. I bought an expensive blue paint that I thought would cover it. No one liked it. Let me tell you, go to Lowe's and get the paint that has the primer mixed in. One coat covers black, and I got a cream color, not dark. It really works. I did not believe it. But he won't let me paint either. Says I don't know how. Okay.

Joyce, I have had unreal feelings a lot. Like he is coming home. He went fishing in Mexico one time for a few days but that is the longest we were ever away from each other. We were separated six weeks once but we saw each other every day so I cannot count that. I think we all feel like we will wake up from this nightmare, but the nights keep going by and we wake up and have to keep on going.. That is the best I can do. I got in over my head with this moving. Still over my head. I keep thinking "which came first, the chicken or the egg?" I have never done this alone, and yet my son is with me so I am not alone. Honestly he is as big a slob as I am though and this stuff gets overpowering. Do I get the movers to come get the stuff I want to keep and then throw the rest away/give it away or do I give all the stuff away and then have the movers come. I bit off way more than I could chew and having family problems at the same time does not help. I am not so weak that I have to give up. I want to give up. But I cannot give up. I gotta finish this crap I started but this is the hardest thing I have ever done. I have to put a correction in here. The hardest thing I have ever done is accepting the fact Billy cannot return. I know that is a fact, he is not returning, that is the hardest thing I have ever faced. I would move twice a month if I could have him back. Even birthing my first child natural childbirth was not this hard. But, that was something you got the ball rolling and you could not quit. A woman stopped me the next day in the hall and wanted to know if I had had that damn baby yet. She said I was yelling "I don't want this damn baby." Well, I don't want this moving crap either, but I have the ball rolling and I have got to see it through. Still not sure yet about the chicken and the egg.

You have most of my mini-nervous breakdowns on here. I joke, but there is a lot of truth under that joke. Am I okay? Well, I just had my Xanax, I am better, but "no I am not okay and I never will be again." Am I going to make it???? Could be, might be, might not, might not be possible. If I could color in line, I would be just fine with a padded cell. Cannot color in those damn color books though. My shaking won't let me. But I can take a picture. You should have seen that Kindle, it was being shook up and down and I don't know how it ever took a picture. Did not know I could.

Cookie, I very seldom look back at what I write. I don't like to be reminded. But, I cannot remember your being angry with me. I love you "girls" and honestly feel your pain and know you feel mine. I will tell you I just had a breakdown that probably needs a straight jacket, but it is family dynamics. We will get that straightened out too. Well, there are some we can do nothing about. I remember reading some quote from some famous person, and I cannot remember his/her name, and am saying it wrong, but the meaning is the same. "When the case is hopeless, why worry." If I was a millionaire I could help. I am only a small thousandaire and it is getting less and less. It has to stop. I'm the only one that can do anything about it and I am one of those snails that creeps under the door to hide. Honestly, I miss Billy's directions so much. He could calm me down. This is all between me, sister, mother, granddaughter, daughter, and all mixed together. We are all certifiable but honestly, I am the only one that has the resources (insurance) that will put me in a padded cell, but I am ready for one. I will say, I miss Billy so much, but Billy cannot help me out of this predicament. If he was alive he would try, but even he could not help. "If the situation is hopeless, why worry?" I am going to take another half Xanax and I will not worry either. And moving. I cannot remember, what comes first, the chicken or the egg. Do I go ahead and move what I want to keep and then come back and get rid of what I don't want, or do I get rid of what I don't want and then move. I am certifiable right now. All I have to do is call my doc and they will put me away. "There coming to take me away, ho ho".

Thanks. House was built in 1965, but it has whipped my behind. Still needs some touch-ups. Last bit of housekeeping repairs I will ever do. Knocking on wood. Purple and red petunias. Hello world. I can grow flowers. I have to leave fast before they die or I water them to death.

Kay, I hope it helps. I have a lot of them on my Kindle. I go to sleep every night listening with my ear buds. That was what I was doing when no one could get me on the phone so they had the police and ambulance out front. Bless their hearts, I cannot fault them for caring. But, Scott lives in the RV next to the house and he can get in, so no one has been scared about me anymore. Anyhow, I wish there was some way for it to get through to my brain, but it sure puts me to sleep fast. I do my breathing exercises and then I am gone.

Well, it would have been funnier if you had not used Cousin Theo and Cousin Horatio's pictures. Mitch, I get by with so much dumb stuff by swearing to this. It does not take much convincing.

Don't you just love Joe Pickett. You know he does not look like a hero, but he has people that dissolve into the woods that make him look like a hero.. Billy loved him. C.J. Box's email still comes to my address. Will read them all. I am starting back on the first one it has been so long ago.

My door (forgot to paint the facing, Billy and Scott's porch, my petunias, and fixing to give it all away. I think I am going to take the door off the hinges and use it for a wall hanging in the apartment. ADDENDUM: What you folks don't understand, I took those pictures with my Kindle. I TOOK THEM, old shaking hands me. And, it does not look like an earthquake. I'm sorry Billy, I can take pictures too. Damn I miss that man.

When Billy and I RV'd we had lights on each side of the bed on the wall. That was the high point of our day, crawling into bed and reading together. Billy was not a reader when we first got married. He read Sports Afield and the sports magazines. When I read, just like when I watch sports, I pick out a magazine contributor and I pick out some sports player. I study up on their life and it just makes things more interesting. That got me to reading Patrick McManus. (sp?). That man was so funny that when Daddy was so ill in the hospital, I would read Patrick McManus (he has lots of books) and even though he was hurting, he and I would get to laughing so tears were running down our faces and I would have to straighten up so I could read serious to him but it would not happen. Laughter is good medicine. It made Daddy forget about his pain for just a minute or two, and he hurt so bad. How could I have ever wanted to keep Billy any longer knowing he was going to hurt like that. I miss him terribly but I could not stand him hurting like my dad did. Oh, and Billy became the reader of the family. I went through a period where I just could not concentrate for any length of time, and this was when he was not sick. Billy would read up till 2:00 a.m. some days. I still have his Joe Pickett novels to read. I finished the book he was reading when he passed away. It was a J. Box novel also. I swear I will read every one he writes. Billy would have. So maybe if I am him and he is me, maybe he will enjoy them too. I hope so. I have to get in the apartment first though. I go to bed so tired each night now I can read a couple of pages and then I put on the meditation tape which better work by osmosis.

One time I had to tell AT&T they had to get me someone from the USA, preferably the south. I explained to them I was an old southern lady and my version of the English language did not even go along with some from up north. (Sorry Yankee's, I do not mean to offend, I am afraid I am the lesser one here). I made such an issue of it that they never provided me with anyone above the Mason-Dixon line (whatever the hell that means), and no I do not wave the Confederate flag anywhere around me (but I did have a lot of southern relatives that died for that flag. My little 5'4" redheaded great-great grandpa is buried in a Confederate grave. Billy broke me from saying I was thursday when I wanted a drink. He kept emphasizing thirsty. He said Thursday was a day of the week. I knew that. But, I never broke him from saying shevel for shovel. I lived at the north end of Webster Parish against the Arkansas line. He lived in the very south end of Webster Parish and was born in a corn field. What can I say?

Well heck, I love brownies but they will no longer let me have chocolate.

The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started. (Norman Cousins) I started reading him when I had cancer. This man had so many illnesses and I really thought he was in his 60's. He was Billy's age when he passed away, 75. He has a few books written and he was very easy to read. i missed him when he passed away, and I did not even know him. Reading books sometimes makes you feel like you know the author, and to me, that is a very good author. I think we are all like two sets of flowers put out to grow in a pot. Sometimes the flowers bloom together and are beautiful. Sometimes, the one flower dies, so the other flower has to bloom twice as hard to show the world they both lived.

i know you did not feel like celebrating. We never had parties, ate out occasionally, but were very low key in any of our celebrating, unless Billy was to get presents. He did not care about the celebrating, but he wanted those presents. That was why we called him Billy the Kid. This is late, but I hope you have as good a birthday each year as you can manage.

Gwen, needless to say I have not done any excess work in seven months. Have not moved my body much. But, I walked the aisles at Lowe's, Walmart and that farm store that starts with "A" and I cannot think of the name of it. I waited on Sears, which is part of the mall, to fix my truck. I was there rather early. Not many shops were open. (Bath and Body Works was open) and I now have 10 new jars and bottles of smelly stuff. Anyhow, I walked those malls floors till they finished with my truck and last night my legs hurt so bad. I just wondered if that was what it felt like dying. I wondered about Billy's pain. I tried not to let him hurt any at all. It was such a short time and the morphine made him feel good, so maybe he did not hurt. I cannot take pain medicine and I am afraid my empathy will go out the door if I take any more Tylenol. But, I was not alarmed. If I didn't wake up, well, I just would not know it. Did not scare me, but I hated the legs hurting.

And, she does not have the snuggle wrapped around her. She is all stretched out, feeling right at home. I love this Butch. Nothing like those little granddaughters. Ours is 16 and still has our heart. She thanks me when I buy her something and tells me "I'm going to pay you back one day." I tell her I did not buy it, "Dade" bought it and he does not want paid back. She does not ask for anything. Just wait, a little girl can twist you around her fingers.

I cannot believe Billy is gone. I lived with that man for 54 years. We separated six weeks back in the early 1990's. Like my daddy used to say to me when Billy and I would fuss, and I promise you MY daddy said this "What did you do Margaret?" A lesser man would not have put up with me. But, a lesser woman would not have put up with him either. Still, we could have left, plenty of times. We didn't though, and I cannot imagine life without him. I hear the door close, a cough, someone walking down one of the halls and for a jolt of a millisecond I imagine it is him. But the fact is, he left me. I wish he had run off with a woman 30 years younger than me. I wish he was still alive and I could dislike him very much, but he would still be alive. But he is not, and he is not coming back, unless I find another man. I think he would find a way to come back then. No one could come close to replacing anything about him though, so I will listen for the footsteps, the cough, the door closing the rest of my life, until I am with him again. Life that went on this long has to go on forever, don't you think? I still cannot believe he is gone. He is not gone.

Ana, I just looked where you are from, Spain. No way would I have known you did not speak English as a first language. I don't either. Mine is a little Cajun, Redneck, and just plain old southern ole woman. English is something they taught in school. Egg is still "aig", leg is still "laig", ants are still "aints" and I come from Springhill, which is really "Spranghill. Syrup has one syllable, it is "surp".. And as an addendum, I do find myself saying "Bless their heart, they can't help it" more often than not.

Ana, there is no right or wrong. What is right for me is wrong for someone else. I don't think anyone has right or wrong, they have just what is right for themselves. I don't know about celebrities. They are good at acting so they may act like they have it all together and when they get home they may take their anger out on the furniture, animals or humans. I am not sure, but I don't think anyone really means "do it like I do it" because at night they may go home with Jack Daniels and spend the night with him. Hey, I am not fussing about that, if I could take Jack home with me, I would. I just don't like the feeling of throwing up and maybe doing more damage to my already nightmare "innards." So, we just do what we can with what we have. I like levity, but I also cry a lot and am very lonesome. Not lonesome for people, I have someone around me all the time, but I go to bed at night so I can be closer to Billy. I miss the old codger.

When her son came out and gave the award, she cried. Listening to Kathy Griffith???, the football players wife who is on Today, she talked, she joked, but the whole time she had a ball of tears in her throat. I thought it funny him saying he only wanted a party to be given with the list of his friends to be at the party. She said it was a short list. I felt Celine wanting to cry, but she was being brave until her son came out and then she let it go. She is a public person though and her husband believed, like the song she sang, that the show must go on. So, she is doing this for him, herself and her whole large family. She lost her brother within hours, maybe a day or two after her husband. We do not know what these public figures do behind closed doors, but she wanted to be strong for her kids. I admired that. Just because someone lives one way does not mean everyone does. That is why there are so many paths of grief on this forum. I might try for levity, but I would like to go into my room and just cry and cry. The last time I did that though, I looked around me and still did not see Billy. I said "Your not coming back are you?" I am going to find him again, when I get settled down in my little apartment (if I can get him to come into an apartment), he might just visit Scott in the RV, well then I will have time to talk to him again. I have my friends that I have to go by their dispositions now. They are widows for a long time, one 16-17 years, and she is beautiful inside and out. She also takes his urn to all the family gatherings. She is the one that he was not sick. They had a fuss and it was a bad one.. She had to leave to go to their granddaughter's cancer surgery, just an infant, and kept trying to call him. A relative went in and he had died in his sleep. She did not get to say goodbye and she hurts still, all the time. The way they left, angry, will haunt her the rest of her life. Everyone has a story to tell. Some are so horrible we want so bad to help them. Losing your mate is the most horrible thing that can happen (well, that and losing a child, and I hate to even imagine that and so want to go before them.). Billy tried to get me to quit driving when he thought I was dying in 2014. I would not let him drive me. Scott wants to drive me everywhere. I won't let him drive me anywhere. I want to be self dependent as long as I can. I drive that 350 mile round trip to Louisiana and I have to pull off to the side of the road because I cry out of desperation, Billy cannot help me. Fortunately, I drive paved country roads, no traffic or someone would have me hospitalized. I do admire a brave woman, celebrity or just plain ole country redneck. My grandma was a plain ole country redneck that missed my "Daddy Wise" until she died. Her biggest wish was to be with him again, but she lived nearly 30 years without him. Tough old broad. German stock. I think they called them Pennsylvania Dutch back then. We have a settlement out of Minden called Germantown. There is no set way to grieve. The thing is, we all hurt. We might do it in different ways. We might not approve of all others do. In fact, I imagine I make people very angry with my levity. I am sorry, it is just the way I have always been. If I offend anyone, again, I am sorry, but that is just me. I doubt I will change anymore than I would want you to change. We cannot all be alike. We all hurt. That is enough alike to last a lifetime.

I bought People magazine (well, I buy it a lot of times), but I wanted to see how Celine Dion was handling her husband's death. I am sure she has all of our feelings and will till the end of her time. She had a call from him before her show, he wished her well, all the things they always said. When she came in he was asleep and she did not want to wake him up because he would be in pain. She went to sleep and the nurse came the next morning and told her he had passed away. Naturally she regretted not waking him up when she came in. She said she was not going to let their time together be troubled by regrets now. I hope she is that strong. I admire that strength. I do not know if I have strength. I have the necessity to get out of bed as soon as I wake up. It would be easy to be able to wallow in that bed, reach for Billy, knowing he is not there, but in older women their bladder drops after female surgery/other goings on unmentionable, and if I wallow in the bed, I could possibly drown, and definitely would have to get a new mattress. So, it is up to face the day. Not something you look forward to, but still, it is something you have to do. I always thought it interesting that Florence Nightingale, after her big time activity in the Crimean War, she took to her bed, still a relatively young woman. And she did die. I think she was in her 90's though. It seems that when we are not needed anymore, that is what we have to do. Celine is needed. She has three boys that need her, so she cannot think of just herself. It could be that I have never had to face getting a vehicle fixed. I need me a glossary of mechanical terms. Somehow they do not understand thingamajig, thingy, knob joints, and a blank stare. I stopped at the mechanic so I knew what to ask for. I knew something needed aligned. So, the fast talking younger guy made me hear "friendly alignment." Then the guy who owns the place made me hear "front-end alignment." Looking at Sears "description of merchandise" I notice I paid for something called "tremor 4x2, 4600 pounds" Makes me wonder if they could handle my congenital tremor better than the medical establishment. I don't weigh 4600 pounds so, it should not cost as much.

Billy and I had got the family situated where we could RV again, but it did not work this time either. They played the song "A Time for Us" on The Voice as the last song tonight, I could not listen to it. We used to think eventually there would be "a time for us." We had lots of time though. I would not have thought it enough if it had been 200 years.

It would not have mattered Kay, even 54 years were not enough.