Margm

Cookie, Joyce: It is heart rendering, stabbing, terrible pain to go through all of Billy's "stuff." And, I keep telling myself "SO THIS IS WHAT THEY MEAN BY NOT DOING ANYTHING FOR A YEAR." It is not a SOLUTION for me to put things in individual big plastic buckets with locking tops. But, it will allow me to go through them AGAIN when I feel like it. If I never feel like it, then it is all boxed up for whoever is left to do away with my things after I am gone, and maybe Billy and I can look down and smile on it. Right now I don't know where he is, but I am going to find him if I live long enough, and if I don't, maybe it will be like I was taught. I am hoping for that.

Cookie, this is what I am doing. My kids do not seem to think I am any crazier than they always have. I think it might get confusing after awhile, but for every piece of my clothing that I hang up, I am putting two of his in between. The symbolism suits me just fine. When I get to cursing him for having so many clothes, then I might have to rethink. His wedding ring I wear on a sterling silver double chain along with mine. That chain has to be cleaned often because I "perspire" and I sleep in it too. I had bought one gold one and one white gold one to wear them on. The gold one broke, I had my receipt and Walmart gave me the money back. The sterling silver one is much stronger, and I doubled it because I am not dainty, I am still a "tomboy" and move about often, but I don't pull them off except to shower. I would just feel destroyed if I lost it, that is why I doubled the chain.That is just what I do, does not have to make sense to anyone but me.

I tried talking to Billy on the road down to the mailbox. I did not get tired this time. The wind was blowing and Billy's favorite honeysuckle scent was heavy on the wind. I will be satisfied that he talked to me too.

BillT: I try to listen to music that won't stab me in the heart. It took me about four months to even listen to this. I found a CD by Andrea Bocelli of old show tunes. I listen to "Old Man River" over and over. I am old enough that I remember the movie Showboat and I am old enough, but don't remember what titles to underline, put in italics or what to do with them. But one part of Old Man River hits home with me, and maybe how I feel right now. Ah, gits weary An' sick of tryin' Ah'm tired of livin' An' skeered of dyin', But ol' man river, He jes'keeps rollin' along! Living this life now is a mass of contradictions from one second to the next.

When I get back "home" I will have to find a therapist. I called my therapist of many years, from many years ago, and she had retired. I will find another. I retired from the state teaching hospital there so I am familiar with many. But, I won't/don't have time to go to one where I am clearing out the skeletal remains of this house. I definitely will find one when I get back "home." Won't be long.. And, if I finish this journey good. If I don't finish it. Well, good then too.

Sherbear, you have all of us to talk to. No one could splatter their feelings on this forum any better/worse than I do. I bleed everywhere. So, whatever you have to say, however you want to say it, there are people on here who have the same wounds as you, people who feel your pain, people who can understand where you are coming from better than any man "on the street" whether they are your best friend or your pastor, ............we know how you feel. We share.

I think I must have slept about 15 hours yesterday. Either packing, emotions, or just plain being old wore me down. All this talk about liking to cook makes my mind turn to other things. I hate cooking. I hate housekeeping. I am just a different breed of female, but still female. My feelings have always been with the Native Americans. I so wanted to be a member of some tribe so I could get angry at the white man for driving us off our land. I found the picture of my squaw great grandmother. Unfortunately, that squaw was totally Irish and my son gets peeved with me for denying our Celtic heritage. I can imagine I would have been the carrot topped, freckled kid that the real Native Americans would have thrown rocks at. The Nez Perce Native American Chief Joseph said "I will fight no more forever." Well, that is about as close as I can come. "I will cook no more forever." My cousin bought my grandmother a set of the newest cookware thinking it would help her cooking. He said it didn't. Well, Paula Deen's purple cookware did not help me either, but it was a gift, so I will move it with me. Happy Birthday again Mitch. I know Happy is just a word. All of these are just words.

Mitch, none of us would be here if we could help conjure up those we lost and still love. My days run from dramatic, soulful, depressed, stone-cold, to wet from crying. I would like things to be better, but we all know they never will be the kind of better we had with our love. I was blessed with many years, I wanted many more. I know the rest of the year is going to be terrible when we cannot get through a Mother's Day without missing our mate, my kids missing their dad. Even the words "Mama gets a pass" make me cry. But, here is the best I can do and the miracle is, you have made it to another birthday. No streamers and fireworks, but another day is gone and we are still here.

Me too Butch. At least he is mending. And his baby is coming home which will make you all feel lots better.

I've been reading about blocking out the grief. I have had the numb-down feeling and it is okay, but this block makes an emptiness that seems too hard to climb over. I don't want to get too dramatic, I think it might be something like dissociation, but with dissociation you still feel, and you feel with this too, but it is just empty, final, and actually that is what it is, empty and final. But, it should have always been empty and final in reality. I am going to bed and read and just escape. I think maybe uncovering all his hoarded toys has triggered this. Maybe that is one reason you should not do things for a year. My health is not the best in the world though and I thought I had to hurry and I think I have just worn myself down and where I might feel Billy somewhere in this vast universe, I cannot feel him now, and that is just empty........and too dramatic. I have gone from Mary Sunshine to Dingbat Downer to a drama queen. I'm just going to bed. I'm just tired I think. On the upside, at the doc I had no temp, heart sounds were good, blood pressure good, my "innards" are a mess, but things are okay for the health front, or at least no change.

Butch, that is such good news. In all of this though, I know your son was in some sort of accident. How is he doing? Is he in rehab? Does he have more surgery to go through. We are over the moon with the good news of Gracie. Hope your son is doing great also. Prayers with you.

Going the 21 miles to the doctor this morning I could not talk to Billy. Oh I talked, I felt nothing. I have blocked out so much I wonder if I ever will have it again. I finally just yelled at him, "I don't know where you are." Did not help. I am blocking. Maybe because if I don't block I will cry. Do not know the reason, just know my mojo is not working at all. Makes me angry. I have spent all these days agonizing over his "stuff" and I must have PO'd him somewhere along the line. Magic, mystical thinking, imagination, faith is not working.

My granddaughter went to the 1975 concert in New Orleans tonight. She was so excited. She can only compare them as second to her 5-SOS (seconds of summer) group. My son is going to see Journey in Little Rock in August, I think. I will be gone from AR then. I would love to see Journey live with Arnel Pineda, but will not travel back to AR to see this. The only concerts Billy and I attended were at our State Fair in Shreveport. I remember us walking out on an Eddie Rabbit concert, and I feel bad about that now. We went to football games but had not done that in years. When we go to a restaurant with loud music (now) I cannot tolerate it. I love Stevie Nicks and Cher though. Still would not come back to AR to see even Journey. These two songs above do not make me sad. I hope everyone has a restful night. Okay, I cannot cook, no housekeeper, yards keeper, and I cannot sing or dance either. Totally useless.

Bill, about 53 years ago today I was given a red carnation corsage for being the youngest mother in our church. A long time ago. I might not remember what I was doing five minutes ago, but thank goodness I still have my early memories. I hope if I get Alzheimer's or dementia that I will find myself back in the 1960's and 1970's. At least some of them.

Gwen, I promise I am not transgender, I have always been a girly-girl. But, housekeeping and cooking were not in my job description. I had rather be outside, but not planting or fixing up the yard either. Well, when it came right down to it, I guess I am just lazy. I preferred fishing. I loved getting in the boat and going up or down the bayou. Never wanted to be "home." I did cry when we sold our last RV. Never cried leaving a stix and brix home. I would have been a good gypsy, open fire cooking, etc.

I have put it off and it is now near noon. Going to wade through some more of Billy's "stuff." Did not know that man had so much stuff. I look over on the right side of the forum and it seems I am the last one to answer or to use my run-on fingers, so you know this is not easy going. And folks, this is why they tell you to wait a year before you do anything. A good analogy of this part of grief is being on that torture machine that pulled you four different ways. If I live through it, I will have that part over with. It was something that had to be done. I am past six months now, and by the time the year is up I will be living somewhere else. (If I live through this.) One thing I can say, I have slept nearly eight hours each night. I go to bed listening to meditations and am not sure they are able to push through this brain that is covered with hard wax, but I am sleeping the whole night. So, in spite of the pain of daytime shuffling of "stuff" I am sleeping at night. We search for a light, and though dim, it is still a light.

Ana, I do not cook anymore. I keep Boost and Ensure on hand for these times. I must be doing something right, or in my case wrong, because I have gained two pounds. Surely there are healthy things on this low residue diet I can never get off of, that will help me lose weight. Anyhow, I don't even put them in the refrigerator, I just drink one out of the cabinet. You can drink it fast and know you are at least getting some of what you need. Keep up your strength, please. I also keep turkey for sandwiches. You get tired of them, but I have no need or real feelings to cook myself anything. Easy to cook the Lean Cuisine in the microwave. "I will cook no more forever"

Ana, I know how hard it is to be sick without the one who helped take care of us throughout our life. I wish you the best and hope you feel better each day. I am sorry you are ill. I walked to the mailbox down the road yesterday and was surprised how tired I was for that short walk. Grieving is tiresome. Our immune system is so far down, almost nonexistent.

Gwen, I have to take my temperature all the time. I can feel it when the fever comes on and it stays low grade and I will sweat it off. Because of the sepsis I had with the colon rupture and the makeshift surgery the surgeon did on me to keep from doing a colostomy, I have to be extra careful. I am at risk for even antibiotics as they bother the colon also. So, I fight to stay out of the hospital. I went many months with terrible pain and Billy faced my death. I somehow never faced it. But still, if the MiraLax every night does not have the desired results I will run a low grade temp in the evenings. Knowing there is nothing they can do, I stay on alert anyhow. The low grade temp sometimes makes me see things when I am on the edge of sleep. Sometimes they are welcome, sometimes not. And, I don't think the number of years or months our loved ones have been gone will ever stop our missing them. I have repeated over and over my grandmother writing that after 18 years the pain was the same as on the first day, yet she outlived him nearly 30 years. So, I guess the pain does not kill us, just makes us miserable forever. When my friends say it gets easier, I now feel they mean that living gets easier, not the pain. So we pay for the great love we had for them. I hate the pain, but I would not have changed a thing (except some things I did that hurt him), and I would change those. I hope you feel better soon. I wish there were words or some magic remedy that would help us. I think there might be magic remedies, but they might be illegal right now. And, after they wear off we are still left to hurt. I don't think that will ever quit, we will just learn to live with it. Like my temperature, I have lived over two years with it, and I fight it only because I cannot leave this mess for my kids to clean up.

Steve, I always wanted to go to Canada. Being the gypsies that we were, we wanted to tour the whole country. We had friends that were Escapee's from the RV club and we liked their system of health care. Of course, we could have never lived there. Would have liked to study it first hand though. Know we lost a lot of citizens to Canada during the Vietnam war. So, it will be on my bucket list to read about it as much as I can. No visiting.

Finch, I was on antidepressants for years and years. The first ones I was on were from an older generation of drugs that it took at least four weeks to work. In my own tragic mind they started working instantly. Many generations of antidepressants later, I find they work different on different people. My worse reaction was being unable to cry. It was like water pushing on a dam, I wanted to cry but the tears did not come. My diagnosis is chronic depression. Because of an injury to my insides from radiation, I cannot take any of the antidepressants, I can take Xanax. I have addiction in my family, so I have to be careful, but the antidepressants seemed to put my feelings behind a dam and I could not let them out. But still, my first antidepressant seemed to help save my life. Medicine can be a rocky road. Individual responses vary, some good, some bad. I wish you luck and am so sorry any of us have to go through this time of grief.

This is only 175 miles from flooded Louisiana. Our little creeks/rivers come up to the bridges here in Arkansas. My dry stream bed down the hill from the house became a torrential river. Our burning is safe, in fact, so much humidity we have to "stoke the fire." We are safe. (My fingers are crossed for luck.).

Laura, my great grandfather died in the charity hospital system the year my father was born from probably liver failure or stomach cancer brought on by his alcohol addiction.. He never got to see his first grandchild. He was an alcoholic. It skipped a couple of generations and hit the great grandkids. Two of my cousins were alcoholics, my sister was an alcoholic, and I was addicted to amphetamines for seven years. They were by prescription, but the feds stepped in and stopped the prescriptions and I went cold turkey, which was disastrous. My sister lived in New Orleans and fought and defeated alcoholism, although I know if I had to keep my mom I would have to drink. (I know how selfish that sounds). My cousin was a beauty inside and out. She had three children and died in her 16-year-old son's arms. Addiction is tough on families. Sounds like your father knew what he was doing. I just don't want my kids having to take care of me and I want to put that in writing and have a feeling I better do that soon. We are a dysfunctional family. I think Cain and Abel were the first dysfunctional family, so it follows that throughout the ages there were many more. Sometimes even in dysfunctional families you can pull together (my dysfunctional family tries to protect me the best they know how), and sometimes you pull away. In doing our genealogy we come from small communities in North Louisiana. We had two names that were puzzling. Jesse and a male named James. They did DNA on direct descendants of these two men and found out they were probably brothers, yet while our separate families grew up and grew old we all thought they were from a different line of the name completely. What happened that these two, probably brothers, grew up in the same 100 mile radius yet their families never knew they were all related? Family dynamics in play even centuries ago. I wish your family togetherness in your generation.

My daughter and my son have been in and out of our house for all their life. Billy apologized to Scott for always doing everything for him. He was not being sarcastic at all, this is the way we did things. Our kids will be our kids until we both are gone, and beyond that even if there is a bridge to let them know we have them in our heart. We both did everything for our middle aged children. Sometimes it got confining, especially when it made our "way of life" be lost. They did not want us to travel the road as RVers, they wanted us to stay close. Not really selfish on their part, they just wanted us around. I looked at other RV travelers and one mom and dad thought it was funny because they "escaped" from their grown kids. They thought it funny because their grown kids had no idea where they were. All the time my daughter was saying "family does not leave family." I saw family friends and their kids left and went miles and miles away and made productive lives. One of my daughter's friends lived on the Atlantic coast. The mom and dad are mine and Billy's age now and the father beat prostate cancer (a very hard fight for him) but age and the chemo left him with severe dementia. My friend needs the help of her grown children now, but they are no where close. When Billy got sick, those 5-6 weeks, my children moved in. We do/did have some trouble with their significant others, but we tamed our feelings about them because our children, no longer children, were here to help. I resented some of the help, but the thing about it was, I could not show that because they gave up their lives at that time to take care of their dad. In the same way, I am going to have to put it in writing my wishes to be put in a nursing home and/or assisted living because my daughter is determined to take care of me. I see my mom at near 95 sucking the life out of my sister. I will not do that, and my daughter gets her feelings hurt because of that. She wants to take care of me. I hope that I won't have to be "taken care of." But, Billy and I raised two unselfish middle aged children that might sometimes live off us, but never forsake us, so maybe it is a win/win situation. I used to think that we just never taught our little birds to fly. I fight against it sometimes, but now that Billy is gone I won't fight it anymore. But, I will not do as my mom has done and make either "child" pay for my care with their life, time, or money. That is all I can do for them now. Your a good daughter. You love your mom very much. No one can find fault in that. I am sure everyone welcomes you to this forum. If it helps you, you know you can stay and write your feelings. Most all of us are parents also.