Margm

Thank you Karen, it took me about 5 seconds, but I caught that one. Girl, I wished you lived somewhere but out west. I still cannot travel out west. That was always mine and Billy's destination. I once went on business to Albuquerque with my daughter as my traveling companion. Billy stayed home and homeschooled Brianna. Kelli was having a great time and I was so miserable because Albuquerque was our place. The next year we all went and it was great again. I cannot go past that Texas or Oklahoma state line ever again. Maybe I will change my mind, but by that time there will be no "mind" left. I'm glad they busted the "human" sex ring, and at such an innocent place to have one too. Past the "red light" age??? Damn, where am I gonna get my quarters for the washing machines?

Well, I won't tell you what Scott said my red door looked like. Suffice it to say, cherry red is bright. When I sanded off the bad places the other who painted it over 10 years ago, they had left edges of green on a cream colored door. After sanding those edges down, the green showed through. Now, I will go get a red brick color to paint a second coat on it or maybe I will just set red lights in my windows. I have very much admiration for interior decorators. I am not one. I know Billy is still laughing. He and my daddy both. Daddy had that infectious laugh that by the time you finished laughing, you did not know what you were laughing about but you sure had a lot of tears from laughing till you cried. I'll bet God is even laughing. Glad I could amuse them.

Prayers Butch. Her home has been the hospital, maybe it was just the change that threw her off. Again, prayers.

I have to laugh to live Terri. I cry too, lots. I went into the True Value Hardware store and told him I wanted an electrical sander. Billy has a big one I cannot figure out and it is heavy. He said "what kind do you want?" I held out my short fingered hands to him and said "something that fits those." He found me one. Still bigger than I wanted, but I can handle it. It is kinda like when you go fishing all day and all a man has to do is turn his back to you and tee-tee out the boat. Well, I learned to sit in the back next to the motor that drains the water out. I thought about a cup and a tube hanging out our pants. Would have been lots easier. Now, I have to invent a sander to fit smaller hands. Karen, those "gotcha" moments hit. I cannot go back and see the girls I retired with at the Arkansas Hospital Billy passed away in. Not to even tell them goodbye. I cannot go there again. And there are a hundred "gotcha's" during the day, so I just cuss at him. I wished we all could live close so we could party, commiserate, or just hug. Now I am fixing to try my new Black and Decker first big tool bought after being a widow. I don't feel sad about it. I think Billy is laughing and proud,

By now you all know I was probably certifiable before Billy left me. I know, most times I am crazy like a fox, but sometimes reality is ugly. As I was sanding the door to paint (some idiot closed the door when they painted it last time and we all know what a perfectionist housekeeper I am), anyhow, it came to me that I just have not faced Billy is gone. He would have made fun of my red, purple and white door wreath, but he would have found something to like...........nah, he wouldn't. But, he would know that did not bother me. And, he would not be in there saying "here, let me sand this for you." I cannot feel him here with me, but he is still here somewhere. I just don't feel like he is gone, except when I cry, he did not like me to cry. He would not fuss, but it brought out the man/male/he-man in him and he had to comfort me. I feel him comforting me, just not his touch. He is still here, I just cannot see him. Does that make sense? Well................it does not have to make sense to anyone but me, and my brain must be melting some of that wax. I won't tell you what my next big project is, but I am absolutely excited about it. And, it is something Billy has always wanted me to do. I can do it. He has not gone, I just cannot see him.

My granddaughter introduced me to the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. She also introduced me to Grace and Frankie. I cannot remember which is which but I would definitely fit the one who still lives like a hippy. Not the glamorous one. If it makes me laugh, I am going to watch it. I like that guy, James Corbin, or Cordin, at late night show with his drive along karaoke. In fact, my granddaughter, when she is around me, tries to get me doing things that are funny. She found a picture of me "wiped out" back in my late 30s and she wanted the picture. I still had a glass of Margarita in my hand. She didn't know, but about 20 minutes later my head was hung over a commode. The party had been thrown for me, I didn't stay too long. They had to call Billy to take me home. Three drinks and I was unconscious. I would be dead now. I am going to watch anything that will lighten the mood.

Terri, I found a picture of Ms. Piggy in a tutu, but I don't think no one is in the mood to see this. Actually, I am happy to find a fellow (I don't know what to call us), but I hate we had to meet in this way. Wish we could have traded glitter and danced in our go-go boots years ago instead of meeting on a grief forum. Actually, I am listening to the music from the 50s and 60s right now. Strange, it does not make me cry. I have learned to stay away from those romantic songs though.. I think I would cry at that fellow singing "Don't worry, be happy" right now. Fixing to go smear some more red paint. Had to tape off the door knocker, etc. I probably should just unscrew it. Hey, I know how to use a screw driver, I'm an expert. Hope you have a better day Terri.

Yeah, I tease my kids about my wanting to be one of those "go-go dancers" in the cages, wearing the tassels and white high boots at what used to be called "The Whisk-A-Go-Go". My deacon dad would have stroked out. Irony was, I really wanted to do that. I had the figure to do it, but I'll bet if I did it now I would make more money.

Terri, I am into quotes also. This morning's quote in my email was below. “Self-pity gets you nowhere. One must have the adventurous daring to accept oneself as a bundle of possibilities and undertake the most interesting game in the world: making the most of one’s best.” ~ Harry Emerson Fosdick I got to thinking about having adventurous daring. I love watching people dive off those cliffs. I love watching paragliding. For right now, I think I will just wallow in self-pity since I cannot swim and would die for sure if I went paragliding. I'm safer painting my front door cherry red. Will let you all know how that goes. My ideas of decorating is putting that wreath I just made on the front door. No kidding, the red and purple shout out Mardi Gras celebrated here. Hideous. That cherry red door might make people drive by this house and say "hell no, I would not live there." As for the picture below. I think we worry about other people too much. Myself, I am going to keep right on self pitying myself. I've earned it. I read a joke that the grape does not get really sweet until it is a wrinkled raisin. Not sure I agree with that either.

Well, I experimented with it and one coat will cover, if I coat it thick. I will probably have it dripping if I put it too thick. Remember, Billy and I, well neither one of us could decorate anything beyond a tent. Billy used to tell me to look in house fashion magazines. Let me tell you this. My daughter made the most beautiful wreath for her front door. I bought the same things she did, only different colors. I put it out on my front door and it looks like I am celebrating Mardi Gras. Yep, I went with purple. I really could screw up a paint by number picture.

I'm sorry Kay, my photographer left me. I cannot hold a camera still, but I will get Scott to take one with his phone. And, I'm not sure, might have to add another coat of paint. I wanted to get out with as little cosmetic repairs as possible, but it might take two coats of the "guarantee one coat covers everything" paint.

I am not a decorator. I could do real decorating of a tent with outside chairs and eating outside, sleeping on bunks, but decorating a house is outside my job description. I do not like this color I picked, am just hoping it covers the other. I have nice curtains to maybe give it a touch of color..

The man that mixed my paint up for my black and cream room (my daughter's idea of interior decorations), we have been trying (procrastinating) to repaint for 10 years. He wanted to know if I wanted to wait until something else came in (True Value Hardware, small town), and I told him I didn't wait for anything. Billy went so fast, my job might not get done. And then I thought, well, so what, if I was gone I wouldn't care. All our troubles would be over. Until then, like George's song..............keep walking, it ain't over yet. Thanks George, I liked that. (I am not painting the room black and cream). I have to cover that black paint. Remember, I am the one who painted her bathroom specially mixed paint that came out S___t mongley brown and had to repaint with at least three coats of yellow. You could have peeled that paint off in one layer. Don't like the Dallas Cowboys, but right now it has my Saints colors. Gonna be painted Dallas Cowboys blue. This house has been good to us, it seemed a shame, even giving it away, not to put a pretty dress on it.

I fill Billy's side of the bed with books, makeup (which I don't wear), clothes, a huge magnifying glass, the suitcase from this weekend's trip. It is full except for the tall skinny man that belongs there.

Love, love, love. Beautiful Gracie.

I have put on here so many times from my grandmother's book. She said people said the pain lessened, but at 18 years she said she felt the pain as on the first day. She was a little quiet country woman not given to lies or exaggerations (unlike my mom), but reading that put me into despair. But, then she lived almost 30 years after my grandfather died. I cannot remember her being a really happy woman. Now, my other grandmother, I know she was glad when they took my grandfather away to the state hospital. He had Parkinson's and from all I remember, was never a pleasant person. He died two weeks later at about age 56. That Mammaw was happy the rest of her long life. We all go down different roads.

Terri, your post and mine passed each other in cyberspace. I think I was fortunate that Billy was no more mechanically minded and hated housekeeping inside and out as much as I did. His folks had rented all their life, he had to fix nothing. His first car was a 1953 Chevy that broke down coming home from the state fair about midnight in the middle of nowhere.. I was pregnant, only barely, but still showing and scared. A kind person let us use their telephone at midnight. He was able to get in touch with his brother, who was a welder, but no more mechanically minded than Billy, so we went through 54 years trading vehicles when they ran out of gas. (An exaggeration). My dad could do anything mechanical, any carpentry that had to be done, yet he let my mom handle things he thought she should learn. Not a lazy bone in either of their bodies. Just living through hard times. I was so excited after Billy left with my first mechanical challenge. I changed license plates. Now, I was a certified mechanic because I could use a screw driver. I have learned this. There are people out there who will take advantage of widows. But, there are a lot of people out there, more than the others, who will take pity on us and help us out in times of need. Right now my son is here to help me out. (He knows less than his dad did, but he is willing to try.) We are not failures if we cannot do something. We all are survivors of the worse disaster to hit us in modern or ancient times. My girlfriend told me they had to hire an electrician to come in and change the light bulb. (I know that was an exaggeration.) There is a lot of sadness in our trials and tribulations, but a lot of humor too. Like me waiting 50 years to ask Billy why he laughed at himself so much when he did something stupid. That always aggravated me, but it took me 50 years to ask him. He said if he didn't laugh at himself, someone else would. I would sure like to see and hear him do stupid things again. Oh, and it took him over 50 years to inform me that he hated green beans and he hated cinnamon. The things we learn so late in life.

“Nothing in the world is worth having or worth doing unless it means effort, pain, difficulty… I have never in my life envied a human being who led an easy life. I have envied a great many people who led difficult lives and led them well.” ― Theodore Roosevelt Sometimes I think it is good that I was born a country redneck. I never expected much. I never wanted for much. I really don't think that is one commandment that I broke. I never coveted my neighbors blessings (except one time my friend's husband built her a bookcase out of rough wood and painted it, I wanted that bookcase). My friends, and lots of family are so involved in democrats vs republicans and I abhor politics. My family had minor politicians. Daddy served as alderman one term and did not run again. He hated putting up with the BS of others. My cousin ran for senator and had minor things that were absolutely nothing blown into such mud slinging that his wife told him if he ran for anything else she would leave him. I voted for Nixon. Now, who in their right mind would trust someone that used their vote like that? I think that was when Wallace was running against him and my whole family loved the rhetoric of Wallace. After all, we were all nothing but southern rednecks. Every time I write on here or Facebook, I think of my mama telling me "fools names and fools faces always appear in public places." Okay, coming close to talking about politics, and I know nothing about it except it is all BS. Our stages of grief go up and down this ladder in life. Some are angry. Some attack. When we all come down to it, we are all kindred souls that have lost our real reason for living. I did not want to live. Sometimes I still don't. I discussed it with my son and he got all choked up. Yet, we faced the same thing with him on drugs. Now he faces the exact same thing, not knowing if his son has overdosed, is injured, or even where he is. His little mind has been so doused with every drug imaginable that for it to be even working is a marvel of science, the human body and God. He is in his 30s, just like Scott was. Scott wanted to get off drugs, his son does not, so we just wait to hear the bad news. I have to go to the "big city" today. My sister quoted in writing that she was glad I had got my sense of humor back. I don't have it "back." It is just like the rest of our life, we make it with broken wings. We might not fly again, but we can become the best broken wing runners our bodies will allow us to become. I tell the cross on top of Billy's beautiful wooden urn each morning and each night how much I love him. Life is empty sometimes. I am not sure he hears me. Yet, each day when I walk to get the mail, when I go outside for anything, there is that redbird. Maybe he is there just to remind me that he might be close anyhow. Saying a lot of nothing to a lot of suffering people. I feel your pain. OMGosh, how I feel your pain. PS (All my life my reading has taken me to the biographies and autobiographies of people, some successes, some failures, but all just living through some of the pain we all live through. I admired Eleanor Roosevelt and Teddy too, but can you possibly imagine how Helen Keller made it through life at all?) "If your going through hell, just keep going."

I just ordered the book. It is short, so I ought to be able to read it in one sitting. Thank you very much.

Linda, welcome to our little forum of shared pain. I know you are ahead of some of us in time, and you sound like you are doing a very good job of being strong. Know you have all the weak moments we all do still. Well, my run-on fingers could say more. But right now, just know you are a welcome addition.

Some people don't believe in the same things I do. My son talks to me. My son used to use every kind of drug that was on the streets. He even mainlined. I worried for years I would find him hanging from a tree or an overdose. He was suicidal all the time and was under a doctor's care. His kids had been taken away from him. These things were his own fault, and he knew it. He worked as a DJ in a gentleman's club for many years. That was his vocation. He was good at it. It was also an easy place to drink and get drugs. His health has declined, his liver has had to be repaired with the hep-C treatment, but drugs did a number on him. He got himself off cold turkey, locked himself in his room and backslid once or twice. One time he told his dad he was going to take the car and go downtown (drugs) and his dad said "okay, but don't come back here." He did not go. He worked for a gang that did some pretty gangish things, whatever the hell that means. One time he was shot and it hit an artery (femoral, I think) and was bleeding out. He coded twice on the table during surgery. He said the first time he saw nothing but blackness and it scared him. The second time it was like he was arriving in a boat with people waiting on the shore for him. He said he knew all these people, he loved them, but he did not know how he knew them but they said he had to go back. His dad blamed it on the drugs. He did not believe in supernatural things. Myself, I believe. I am not experiencing them, except for the kiss on the forehead I imagined and his telling me that night that "it's enough" and for me to leave the house of fussing relatives (my house). I left. And the first weeks, I could not move anything around, I had to find his wedding ring nugget. I must have overlooked it a dozen times or less. My jewelry box is not large. But I was stuck and could not move anything around in the house, I got irate if anyone touched anything of Billy's. Then, all of a sudden it was there where I had looked over and over and over. I cannot know how it got there, but it was the only reason I could move on.

Oh Gosh, I would hope no one follows my journey. I have made it very rough for an old lady. I would not recommend my way for anyone. But then again, for me, staying in this house we were leaving, staying in this state, it was impossible for me. And Lord willing, I will finish it. It might finish me, but I hope I get to finish it before it finishes me. And thank you Kay, you are a good friend who I wish I could meet in person. And speaking of "Journey." My son bought tickets to see them in Little Rock. I would dearly love to see them live, but I will not come back across that Louisiana-Arkansas line except to do necessary business when I finally leave. A beautiful state.

Okay, I can already see this girly girl is growing up loving the color purple. My kind of girl. Gracie's mama has style.

Steve, Gwen, I was going to get a new bed, was going to just start over. I pulled the old mattress cover off and that old bed we have slept in for probably 20-30 years, the mattress is coming apart at the seams. I just bought a better mattress cover. If the movers can pick it up without shredding it, I will keep it.

Terri, I have read nothing but the first few lines of your post, I will now go back and read it. Today marks the 7th month that Billy has been gone. I quit counting days, then I quit counting weeks, and I hope to live long enough to quit counting months, but I will never live long enough to forget this wonderful life he gave me. And a widow I met yesterday said that after 13 years, the pain was still there. My grandmother said after 18 years the pain was as if on the first day. She was a plain woman who spoke the truth and that did not help me at all. But, she endured for close to 30 years after he left, so somehow, someway, maybe if we endure also, maybe our life will get easier in some way. And, I am not at the point yet that I can say I want to endure. Terri, I have "run-on" fingers. When you see my posts most people will probably just skip it. Really, "who has the time?" Please come on and talk to us. I too have thought about going back to a psychiatrist. I only think about it when I think my crying until I am breathless would be a welcome relief. I don't want to hurt my kids and grandkids. I thought at first of taking my own life and going so far back in these back woods I would not be found until deer or turkey season opened again. But, Billy once told me "the one left must stay." I do yell at him for that a lot of times. I didn't want to stay, not sure I want to right now either, but have too much going on to leave the responsibilities to my kids. Strange, we still have to consider other people.