Margm

I'm different Brad, different than most people. I cannot hold my liquor, I cannot drink. My morals are such that it is "you know better than to do this, it's a sin" but I worry most about being caught. My goal in life was to dance in one of the cages at the Whisk-A-Go-Go on the strip in our big city that was close, wearing the high go-go white boots. The flashing lights were exciting. My deacon dad would have died in his 40's or 50's had I done this. I settled down, then I fought against the leash. The older years made me know if I had done all the crazy things I had wanted to do, I would not have made it to my older years. I enjoyed being married, the last 20-30 years of it. So did Billy. He was the exact kind of guy I searched for all my life, but I only knew it after I settled down, and he had to settle down too. That is why that show makes me laugh, because I would have been Grace. I could still be Grace. And, Billy would have found it offensive to be Sol, to even think like Sol. He came in on me making the meditation noises, the meditation I did to drive away the cancer, and he laughed and laughed. I locked my door and found new mantras to be laid back with. Just finished last Grace and Frankie at about 2:00 a.m. and Scott said he loved hearing me laugh. Sometimes laughter works better than medicine, it is the best medicine, and lightens this horrible time I am going through, we all are going through. I had to tell my friends about the laughter, but they are the type of people I have to warn, to tell them ahead of time of the language and subject matter might offend them. They might secretly watch it, but I will never hear about it. That last episode was the funniest yet.

Karen, Billy always said I would buy a jug of green water if it was in a pretty bottle. I probably would have too, but would have preferred purple. The mechanic called my truck purple, I am so proud.

Brad, I just love you. Absolutely. You are just the opposite of my friends. The first thing one friend said was "Is that with Jane Fonda? I will not watch it. Okay, I just put in my soap opera life and removed it. I think I grew up in another time than you Brad, and my friends are definitely closed minded people. I might be about some things, but with my family my mind does not stay closed long. I miss Billy. And this has nothing to do with the topic "I thought happily ever after......." This show just makes me laugh and I like to laugh. And it does not address your grief, but if you can laugh for even a few seconds or minutes, I do think that addresses your frame of mind.

This probably does not belong on this topic, but my happy moments happen with "Frankie and Grace" on Netflix. I know there are those that can pick the characters to death, pick the people playing them to death, but I am sorry, I laugh throughout the whole season and I try to watch as much of it as I can. The subject does not appeal to everyone, it not only appeals to me, I forget I am sad when I am watching it. Naturally Billy never ran off with a gay man, so these characters are so far off they are just right. Not for everyone. And yes, Hanoi Jane stars in it (I hated that about her, I lived during the Vietnam War), so does gay Lily Tomlin and Charlie Sheen's dad as well as Sam Waterston. Some of my friends think I am warped. I was warped before Billy left me, maybe now more so than ever. I like it. I laugh.

I have not run into bad stuff I don't think. I was talking to a woman at the thrift store this morning. They volunteer for the nursing home. We started talking about being widowed. She said she had been married for a long time, four children, to this man who was a miser. They divorced and she became friends with someone and they lived together 13 years before he passed away. Now both men have passed away. I asked her which one she grieved the most for. She said "well, certainly the last one" But, a funny thing happened after the miser passed away, her kids inherited all that money he had put away.

My sweet aunt's husband passed away after 56 years. Some time after, she started writing to a high school acquaintance. She and my other aunt visited him in California and stayed in his guest house. He had a bit of money. Billy loved her like his own aunt (after 50 years, she was his aunt too). He teased her about her new boyfriend to only find out he had passed away. No great romance between them, but friends and more grief. I don't want any more grief, my life's basket of grief is full.

In my grandmother's little Methodist Church, the little country church, all the hymnals have stamped inside "Donated by Elizabeth Matlock Wise." Now if they could keep a pastor for four monthly services that would be nice, but they seem to have a "circuit rider" for these small country churches once a month. I noticed that also in the many country churches I pass on my way to Never-Never Land those 175 miles through the little country towns.

I love glitter and rhinestones. My friend, who is only a few years older than I am, when the computer geeks in our hospital got to where they could shadow us on the screen, and could see while we were typing, she promptly retired. She did not want them "seeing" into her home. I did not know what "old" was until Billy left. I now know, and wish I didn't. But some people are "old" in their 20's.

Karen, we are on the same page in our posts and in our life. I don't think we can forget what we have learned and in looking for faith to help us accept what we must, I think you and I are walking the right path. But again, this is what I want and what you want, and many others. Yet, there is still a faction that does not want it, and I am so glad we have a choice. Your an inspiration my friend.

Happy for the whole family. Thank you Butch.

She gave a touching speech. I admire her fortitude and could hear the crying in her voice. I got to thinking about not being able to swim and her saying "when life sucks you under, kick against the bottom, find the surface and breathe again." I do know it is anxiety that makes a person drown, and that is something I have not conquered, but can keep on kicking that bottom. She was beautiful.

My aunt passed at 90 or 91 in February before Billy in October. She looked in her 60s. She was beautiful with a disposition that matched. She was pure love. She had no children, so her nieces and nephews were her kids. And we loved her so much. She loved Billy. He always teased her that if I died first that he and she would do the RVing and she agreed with him. He would call her when I forgot to. So now, I think maybe they are in heaven together and I am glad she was there to greet him. Not everyone morphs into Alzheimer's or senile dementia. Some people keep a good part of their brains well into their 90's and beyond. I'm sorry for your loss. She sounds like a keeper.

Kay.

WARNING: Faith mentioned here, and it is my own belief, not to force on anyone. George, you know about my lack of faith. I cannot say I am faithless, just live in the shallow end of the pool hoping the powers that be let me live long enough to bring it on big time to me, like it used to be. I left my mom and sister in a mess that I cannot save them from. I could if I had a million dollars, but I don't, unfortunately. My duty is to help. My patience and my anxiety will not let me help physically, and that is what they need. So, leaning on my strict Missionary Baptist upbringing I prayed from Louisiana to the Arkansas line. I prayed to Jesus and Billy to please help my son and daughter as they are going through tough stuff right now I won't mention, and Billy's heart, our granddaughter too. I think of Jesus and Billy as both being kind. But first, I prayed to God and my dad. Both were fearsome entities in my growing up years. God was to be feared and he was a punishing God, and so was my dad. So, I prayed to both of them and also got a little angry with both of them and told them what I thought. I turned my mom and sis over to them because I have a little too much to handle on my own hands, and I only have two hands. I quit praying at the Arkansas line. Not sure if they cross over into this state. And, I am saying this in jest too, but I prayed in earnest for my family. That was my faith returning slowly, but I'm only 5 feet tall and doubt I will head down to the deep end of the pool until I get settled, if I am allowed to do so.

Amy, I have not read all the remarks, but I think you do need to ask her how much Tylenol she takes and maybe she needs to cut down on it. And, I was saying that in jest. I'm sorry, it would probably be disrespectful to your mom. (But it wouldn't hurt to ask anyhow).

I made it through those 175 miles without losing my tie rods, ball joints, suspensions, or whatever the hell is wrong with that truck. For a 12-year-old truck, she and I make it okay. Will turn it over to the mechanics tomorrow. I think your probably a young woman Maryann. (Actually, I just looked and my oldest was born in June of the same year you were.) And, we all are hard on ourselves. If our mate had been as hard on us as we are on ourselves we would have had them cowering two inches from the floor. Eleanor Roosevelt came from a rich family but she was told how ugly she was over and over by her family. She could have become some mindless recluse, certainly thinking she was so ugly, how could she get out in front of people. How could she be a leader? I remember my mom and dad discussing her. They did not do it with praise for her, they very much disliked her. My family, all of them, were born and raised in the deep south. Eleanor had ideas that most southern people did not agree with and I remember my folks calling her names. If my folks, nameless little country people of no importance (except to our own "kind"), how could this ugly woman make such an impact? She had money. She had the name. She was married to the president, but everyone knew he had lovers, she knew he had lovers. Money does not make you beautiful, fame does not make you smart and brave, all of this has to come from within yourself. If she can/could do this, so can you. It is not going to be easy going it alone. Today I have energy, today I have strength, tomorrow I might be a mass of flesh crying all day. The thing is, we do not have any choice. We were left. Not on purpose. I have no idea why we were left. We do not have to prove a damn thing to anybody but ourselves. If we can find the courage to do for ourselves one day........maybe next week we will have the courage for one day. We are all different. Tomorrow I might wake up with 102 temperature. (I have to take my temp 2-3 times a day). My colon is in danger of rupture again and overall sepsis again. I don't want my kids to see that. That is why I wanted to take those 50 morphine pills and go so far out in the woods with only notes in my pockets, I figured my kids would not have to see my death mask. Billy's death mask will haunt me forever. He was so self-conscious that he would not have wanted me to see this. So, being alone is no fun. Having no self confidence is no fun either. Actually, living is no fun. Yesterday when I was hyperventilating I was thinking, this is not good, it would feel so easy to just let go, it would be so nice to just quit breathing. But, say that there is a heaven, say that our lost loved ones did go to heaven. Say they might be angels watching us. You don't have to have my faith (in fact it is so shallow I cannot share it), but if there was any way that they could see us, what would you want your mate to think of you? Would you want him to think that you honored him by finding strength to go on or would you want him to think you just gave up? I know Billy was always amused at me for not finishing my multiplication tables, not learning how to swim, being so afraid of the dark, having such terrible dreams. I don't think he would want me to have another man, I think he probably kept that jealous core even in his perfect world now. But, if for no other person, do what you have to do to honor him/her. But, do it when you think you can. And, I think I just wrote a book. Maryann, we can do this. You are not alone. We might be confident five minutes out of the day (or however long it took me to write this). When I get up from this chair I am going to see Billy's urn and know beyond any fact, yes he is gone, forever from my sight and I might crumble. But, we are all in this together.

Maryann, I am getting ready to go back to Never Never Land where Billy left me. Yesterday I gave my sister a much needed rest. I left there crying and have not heard from her. She knows my "duty" does me more damage than it helps her, and I guess she is angry at me and knows I cannot do my duty. I cannot describe this without writing a book. My mama needs inside a room sized padded playpen to keep her from doing what 2-year old children do, and that is to keep them from harming themselves. A nursing home is not possible. My sister said she would sleep the whole time. She slept only maybe five minutes. I looked over at her, her mouth was open, her head was bent back to the side, and she looked just like Billy's death mask. I lost it. I got to hyperventilating crying, could not breathe, chest hurt, and I WANTED TO DIE. I was driving back to my daughter's house. I passed the hospital and seriously thought about stopping. Then I remembered "miles to go before I sleep". I want to help everyone. My mom and sister have gone beyond my help. I am going to have to pay all my mom and sister's bills, but I cannot physically take care of them. I guess that makes guilt I will have to live with. I cannot physically do things I could do 10 years ago, and mentally, well, I am just impaired. So, to giving help to anyone, I am a very flawed person at days away from a seven month loss. I have to go to Never-Never Land, paint doors and one room. Arrange for movers, arrange for help in cleaning out/off that house that we moved into to take care of family that we have enabled for 54 years. We should have been RVers these last 18 years, but could not because of family and us being enablers. I have to break that cycle and I am having a hard time. The prophetic words of our oncologist "shoulda, woulda, coulda" are my life. I did not stop at the hospital though a room, (padded if necessary) seemed fitting. I have to finish this Herculean job I started. I am 73-years old and I have seen limitations. So, if driving will make you more self sufficient, think of this crazy old lady. If I can do all of this, then to quote Pooh Bear "You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." We can do it. I know you were read the story of the "little train that could." I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..........and we can, because we have no choice.

Maryann, you can do this. Someone famous said "we have nothing to fear but fear itself." I hope I got that close to what was the real quote. So proud of you.

We, Billy and I are fast approaching seven months that he left me.. I wrote here three days after his death. I am in the middle of an upheaval of my own doing. I cannot stop now. The walls and floors of the new apartment represent my life right now. Empty, years and years old. No color, just empty. A new canvas to paint. I have real talented artists that Billy and I gave birth to, but my talent, my feeling for color disappeared when I discovered I can no longer thread a needle, and I find it hard to go on without him, the color and substance of my. life.. Now I find, just like that empty old apartment, I have to give new life to bare walls. New experiences. Slap in the face life. I parked in #109's parking place. I am 110. The numbers cannot be read. They need repainted. So do I. Fixing to go take care of my mom. The walls of my former home have to be stripped of that old life and put in this new life. I rethink, if I was 10 years younger I would leave in the RV. I cannot leave my sister with this burden totally on her own shoulders. My granddaughter, Billy's heart, she depends on me also. Our family tree has grown too high for me, a lone and sometimes frightened woman, I cannot keep this tree trimmed. One lone person cannot handle all of this. I have help, but our tree grows in so many directions, I cannot keep up with it. So, I come on here, write my selfish words about a life we all share and try, ever so emptily, to fill with words. No solutions. Just do. "Hope in this new life." Okay. I am using a "tablet," a laptop, and sometimes a PC. I miss some posts. Mama tried to teach me from a young age it is better to be seen and not heard. Or was that just opposite? Before computers. My life now..........I cannot remember. I always wanted to be one of those girls that her phone number was written on the bathroom walls. Just an idea, never a fact.

I will go sit with my mom tomorrow. Now when I leave, I always kiss her on the forehead and she grabs my hand and kisses it. She was never affectionate. This is a little story about my mom. My aunt, the oldest girl and my namesake, told me my grandma was very worried about Mama leaving home. Mama only knew Daddy two weeks before she married him. There should be a book written about that family. Well, in fact, my grandma did write a book for all the grandkids. I did not think our life was any different than most of my friends, all small town people. Over the years we knew Mama was different. She could be very mean. My mom said my dad had a smile on his face when he died. My son said it was because he was so glad to go. This Alzheimer's snuck up on us. This falling all the time has injured her so many times, I was not thinking she would make it to 95. Afterall, why at this age can't we just call it senile dementia. Today I walked in and she is in this wonderful lounge chair, perfectly placed table that slides (but she cannot slide it). It is on wheels. She hates it. She cannot get up. She is really not hemmed in, but it is perfect. Hospice brought it today. Mama is livid. She hates her "new car." Okay, she might make it to 95. She had fallen so much she has skin tears everywhere. I am not liking old age, sometimes life does not make sense at all.

I cannot tell you for sure how I feel. Sometimes I have a one sided conversation and it hits the ceiling. Other times, I feel he hears me. And this is all in my head. But, I can tell you that this is only MY OWN OPINION and no one elses. I have had a faith, and if I live long enough, I plan on having it again. Then, if I get to settle down for a few minutes by myself, God/Jesus and Billy and me will talk about it. I pray at night that my daddy and God will help Mama and my sister. It is like God and my dad are strict, unforgiving totally Boss. Then I talk to Jesus and Billy because both are sweet and forgiving. NOW, THIS IS MY FEELINGS. My faith used to be strong and one day, if I live long enough, I hope to have that peace that passes all understanding. That is the answer and wish for myself. For all of you, I wish you peace and following your own understanding of this hell we are in. I broke loose and cried from the house all the way to Glenwood, (22 miles), stopping three times to make sure the load in the truck was riding okay. Scott had packed it and I had enough duct tape holding boxes and tops where they have to be cut off. Billy used to scare me packing things. Anyhow, I am here, fixing to go see my mom.

She is special. Our youngest granddaughter was adopted at birth. Only, she was over 9 pounds.. If this is one of triplets then you are triple blessed. We raised our granddaughter, and like I said, she was Billy's heart. He was her only Nanny, she called him "Dade" and that is how she spelled it. The only daddy she ever knew. She sticks close to me and I don't want to let her go. Those grandbabies are so special.

Okay, two hugs today, now I will get the Kleenex again. Thanks Mitch. I think Billy is just waiting for things to calm down and then he will come around.

Polly, I impress myself putting two screws in the license plate. I am so proud of you. I picked up more than I was supposed to and sides hurt. I told Scott I would not leave until he could lift the boxes in the back of the truck. He said, "Mama, you should have already asked me to pick up those boxes" and then he said "that's my job." Those were Billy's words. "That's my job." So see, I am pulled every which way, but I am blessed too, I always have someone who is there for me, so how can I get discombobulated?

Mama will be 95 on June 2nd. She needs round the clock care. She cannot walk, but her mind says she still can. They won't let her have soft restraints unless there is a 24 hour nurse there, and of course we cannot afford that. She gets up in the night and crawls, she has a hospital bed, she eats cat food and other things. She needs in a nursing home, but because of things being like they are, she cannot be. I think my sister is worse off than I am, but she has never been married, never had any family but me and Mama and Daddy. All she has had is education and her students were her children, but that's another story.