Margm

I wonder what DNA makes us the way we are? I do not claim to understand anything about DNA or science, but I learned how to spell all the words and found out meanings that were so far above my head that I could not reach them. I was reading a discussion of DNA in people who kill. Did not hold my interest. Most of my ancestors stayed within 100 mile radius, probably marrying distant cousins (hopefully distant). There was one branch that struck out for the gold mines in California though. Billy and I planned on visiting this distant branch of relatives. He was excited. It was beautiful mountains, streams and lakes.. But, all the rest of the people were homesteaders and stayed in the community they were born in. Not me, I wanted to wander. So did Billy. We stayed in our jobs for 80 years total together, but we headed west. My daughter and son have those itchy feet too. I still want to travel, but not where we planned on traveling together, and I actually do not think my other restless family would let me travel. After all, they are the ones who got us off the road RVing to begin with. I am wasting time just blathering. I hate packing Billy away.

This is so true George. Family dynamics can be a powder keg ready to go off at any time. I know I am hurting my sister by not getting in touch with her, but in the lawyer's office she cut me off because I dared speak, like I was one of her students. I wish she had a companion, someone she could just talk to, someone to help her. She has always pushed everyone away and lets me know she is satisfied with her own company and none other. Still, we love our family. I spent months trying to find a resolution to help her, but finally realized the situation was beyond my control or help. We do what we have to do and right now, that is all we can do. I think we were both brought up in strict homes, one that I ran away to marriage to get away from. I was lucky. I see what they mean about the hamburger generation. A piece of meat stuck between parent and grown children. It just came to me, I don't think any of us gets out of this world alive. I wish peace for you George, and for all of us. (I sound like Tiny Tim from The Christmas Carol.)

It does no good to look back. This time last year he was putting the black plastic down between the house and the brick walkway. Some idiot, in the past, (sounds like what I would do), put down lava rocks. When they mowed the yard or weed-eated it they would fly up and break one window/crack it, of the outside double window. Being non-homesteaders, it took us 9 years to decide to pull all the old plastic up and carry wheel-barrow loads of lava rocks down the hill. Billy did not like me to do this, after all, I am just a woman. Again, we should have recognized he was hurting then. Just his back. Always his back. For over 40 years, his back. We got it cleared away, the black plastic laid and then he was gone. My son and I put 15 bags of treated cedar chips down this week. He is painting the porch. It is a different color than the brick. That is okay. Maybe it will dry a different color. Anyhow, I will have planters of red with red petunias so maybe they will all look okay. Just trying for some cosmetic differences to give the house away. One room to paint. Three doors to paint. Then, someone can buy it as a fixer-up place and let me go on my way. I hope a young couple buys it. Too many widows live on this street. Anyhow, I am back to pushing myself. Cannot find his precious house shoes. Paranoia. Now, who would want to take his shoes? Got all the bedroom to pack so I better get on with it.

Well, just know we are two morose people this morning. Here is your hug. ((((((hug)))))). And, it is no longer morning. I was cleaning the ceiling fan in the bedroom, time has gotten away from me. Actually, I wish time would just leave me alone.

Joyce, you have every right to your own feelings, we all do. Once I looked up the word morose and promised I would not write if I felt any of those feelings. But, right now, that word and all of its meanings is my life. I complain, I am my own worse enemy. I know we both just want our husbands with us. I read the statistics, my friend, we have so much company in our feelings. I don't think it is really true that misery loves company. I think it is true what one of the books I read said. Your born, you marry, you die. Just a statistic. My heart does not feel like a statistic. It is not so cut and dried. We hurt. Sometimes the pain is numbed for a moment and we think, "I can do this." Then the numbness is stripped away. I love being numb. I feel right now that I would just love not to be period. Morose: sullen, sulky, gloomy, bad-tempered, ill-tempered, dour, surly,sour, glum, moody, ill-humored, melancholy, melancholic,brooding, broody, doleful, miserable, depressed, dejected,despondent, downcast, unhappy, low, down, grumpy,irritable, churlish, cantankerous, crotchety, cross, crabby,cranky, grouchy, testy, snappish, peevish, crusty; And I do not know how to format this to follow in line like it is supposed to.

(Words and music by the group 5-SOS) I was already missing before the night I left Just me and your shadow and all of my regrets Who am I? Who am I when I don't know myself? Who am I? Who am I? Invisible I don't care much for listening to songs or music now. But, I have a 16-year-old granddaughter who loves the group called 5-SOS (seconds of summer) and they have two songs that reach right through the grief and grab me by the neck. She knows I hate rap, but they even have songs that sing and also rap. These are a few words written by one of the group, and they are all only barely out of their teens. That makes me know I am in my second childhood, because these words soaked through my hard wax brain and heart, and I did not cry, do not cry when listening to them. I have been getting private messages from my friends. We are all supposed to meet. The timing is off though, I am moving. Another message last night. My son wants to take me to the get together. Reminded me, my folks always took me to parties. Then Billy would pick me up at all the office parties because one Margarita and I could not drive. This was one of my best friends in high school, well, she still is. She fought for her life a couple of years ago and she still is in a fight for her life. Her husband was shot many years ago standing in line waiting for a movie ticket. A lot of mystery to that. Won't go into it. He was made to live his life in a wheelchair, then he got colon cancer. That was years ago. My friend almost lost her life with her heart and lungs, surgery, on life support, needing to get out and make a living for both of them. And she applauds my courage.I am such a coward.. I am scared. I am an old woman. I have a boulder rolling down the hill now and I have to finish this job I started. You all cannot (well maybe you can) imagine how much I want to jump in front of this boulder, I am tired. I don't want to push anymore. Then I think of Shannon, our new member and her husband was murdered. She has four small children. My troubles are so mundane compared to hers. My children are all grown, heck, my grandchildren are grown. This morning I want to give up. I want to cry. I don't want to go any further. I will finish with a poet from another place in time than my teenager granddaughter's favorite group. I will finish with Robert Frost. Honestly, I just wish I was finished period. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep,

Thanks, almost felt like he was around for awhile. Good memories. Did not think I could ever do that again. Thanks Kay and Karen, kinda a small breakthrough. He would approve.

Yep, that is what it was. We did not like the lakes up here, (they are beautiful), although he fished in one small one that had "stickups" like Louisiana lakes. But he sure loved the streams/rivers.

Well, then maybe Billy has two guys to talk fishing with. Bless his heart, we went fishing together a lot, but he liked to get scientific about it. I remember when he got his first "fish locator" and I think they are called something else. I was so serious to the guys in the sporting goods department, I told them I could not understand why he just didn't take a long pole and gauge the depth of the water. Louisiana lakes were not as deep as Arkansas ones.. Of course they saw the humor of that, but I was being serious for once. Fly fishing took care of the boats. Oh he tried a kayak (sp?) once, but he put it in the water in winter and promptly turned it over. Brianna (granddaughter) and I laughed all the way home with the truck heater running full force. He never got in it again.

I think I must still be morbid. I see couples mine and Billy's age holding hands and I think it is sweet, but I am afraid for them. I wish we could all just stay happy forever. I think about Doug Flutie's parents dying so close to each other. My friend, her brother-in-law passed away and at the funeral his wife had a heart attack. To me those things did not seem tragic. But, you know it had to be to their grown children and grandchildren. Myself, I wanted to go with Billy. But, you know what he told me, so dammit, here I am, I'm staying.

Beautiful. Billy would have loved that. He dreamed of going to Idaho and the rivers up around there. Who is to know, maybe if Heaven is the perfect place we want to believe it is, maybe they are fishing golden rivers. I would like to think that. I would like to believe that. Thank you for posting these. They would have had a lot to talk about and I don't think George would have been bored.

I have not packed that hat he is wearing. He has 3-4 like that one. I keep them together. I keep them on the table his urn is on along with his Kindle and his cell phone. I retired my smaller Kindle that was the size of his and now have a 10 inch one, but our Kindles are together also. The last time Billy and I visited Walmart, he helped me pick out a new rod and reel. Yep, a Zebco. I have never used it. I probably never will, but I am beginning to be able to look at his picture.

This has been a rough day, but I finished it up on a lighter note. You see, I know Billy will probably visit me tonight. You have to know, the last thing I packed up was Billy's fly fishing equipment. That is not all of his equipment, but I wrapped some of those leaders, some of those $50 leaders around the rods, wrapped a lot of line around the rods to hold them all together. Then I tied those leaders in knots. Billy was obsessive compulsive. He was so neat and protective of his line and equipment. He would get into something and he went "whole hog." He would write down rod lengths, line lengths, figure all kind of numbers (I hate numbers), and he would try to explain it to me. I am not a good audience. I was so bored. He knew it. I tried to listen but "spey" casting and Skagit "whatever" just did not interest me. Throw the line out in the water and if a fish bites, that is good, Set the hook and bring him on in,then turn him loose. When we first got married we did not have any money. We spent our time down on Dorcheat Bayou close to where we lived. We would go over to the borrow pits (and we pronounce them bar pits), and bring home 3-4 bass each time. We ate them. Bass fillets are the best to me. I could not understand him wanting those Diawa (sp?) reels when those cheap Zebco did the same thing. I graduated to the open face reels, but the Zebco was always my favorite. Billy kept having to have more expensive and more expensive. That was okay. We never fussed over money. We tried night fishing on Toledo Bend. One time when the kids spent the night with the grandparents we went fishing on the 5th night of the full moon, I am not sure if that was before or afterwards. All I know is the next week I had bruise marks all over my chest and belly from pulling those bass in. Best fishing trip ever. We had a lot of those. And the boats. OMGosh, I learned how to drive so many bass boats up onto the trailer when Billy backed it down into the water. Finally, we went to a lighter bass boat and I drove that sucker up onside of the trailer. Last time I drove a boat. He could not beg me or make me ever do that again. Moving to Arkansas, he had his fly fishing. The streams he could wade. No wading our lakes back in Louisiana, you sink down in mud. He loved his fly fishing but we should have known this summer something was going wrong, it hurt his back too bad, so he would sit on the couch tying flies for later fly fishing, that was not to be. My son came in and said "Mom, do you mind if I try fly fishing with Dad's equipment." Well, I think that is a good idea. I think Billy would like that. He is sure going to have a hard time untying those leaders though. I'm not through yet. I have not tackled the garage. Putting away his caps and hats like to have done me in. He was always saying "do you like my hat?" He was worse than Dr. Seuss. He has all kinds of hats. He was very particular with how they were placed and where they were placed. Another reason he might haunt me tonight. I was not as good to them as he was.

I am putting this on the topic I started. I want you to know, when I was in Louisiana, my plans were all made, all I had to do was get up here and implement them. I am here. This is as hard as the first week. I see his things everywhere. Right where he left them. How am I going to get rid of anything? All of this stuff has been put into action. I have an apartment. I cannot stay up here.. I need to be where I can help with my mom. I also have other family. My granddaughter goes to the counselor once a week, the counselor wants me to bring her. Other things I cannot talk about. This is Billy's heart, he would take her to counseling. She would trust him. I have to do it. She has physical therapy she has to go to. He would do that too, if I was not there. We have raised this child. I know what the meaning of being "between the devil and the deep blue sea" means now. Packing his things away just stabs me in the heart. And, I don't think that is too dramatic. I am finding things he gave me at 33 years. You know living with a man for 54 years can collect a lot of memories. Got to do it. Cannot quit. But, everything that pertains to him goes into big plastic boxes/buckets with lids that won't fly off. I will go through them later. I wonder if it will be any easier?

Yes, my mom's money is gone and now the land and house, that is paid for, will probably have to be sold. But, I look on it this way. Taking care of my mom all these years has paid my mom back all that was taken, and probably a million dollars over what is gone. But there is still..........what to do now. Right now, today, it is the minutia, the mundane, "fiddly dee, I will worry about that tomorrow."

Yeah, you know I am joking. Did you know I found one carrying case that had a pair of false teeth in it. These were my mother-in-law's things. She has been gone well over 40 years. @Kay: Things don't seem fair at all sometimes. My sister collects a little over $100 from SS, but they take her Medicare out too. How is she going to live? Leaving my kids something is the last of my worries. I can 100% guarantee they collected their inheritance way before now. You do have a problem my friend. I know the USA has government subsidy housing that is beautiful. How do I know this? My college educated, former nurse daughter with bipolar has lived in them. I know the government is there to help out when hardworking people cannot make it on their own income. My other college educated family member is too proud to ask for help, though she has pulled her retirement out every time she taught at a state college. You were banking on your just due. You paid into it. My daughter's partner gets over $700 SSI having never paid into SS. Why does the state provide her $700 and food stamps, Medicare, Medicaid, all the perks to live when hard working people (and I won't say this person did not work). this person got paid "under the table." People get food stamps. I came from a family that my mother lived in the depression time, her family had a farm, they went to town once a year or twice to get staples. They lived off their hard worked farms, the vegetables and even meat were canned. They grew their own potatoes, sweet and Irish, they grew their own fruit, their own nuts, corn for the animals, corn for popping corn. I do not remember, even reading my grandmother's book, if the government offered help much in the 1920's to 1950s. I know my mom and dad would not ask the government for a cent. I am not of that generation. Right now I am going to the store to get "essentials" for my granddaughter and her teen friend. Chips, dips, cookies, cokes, pizza. All that nutritional stuff. (I don't get food stamps, but my daughter does). She is not alone. They will play games on some new contraption game playing thing that hooks to the TV. They will entertain themselves. I will plant my pansies to make this place look presentable so I can give it away and make a fast exit. Yes, there will be things they have to fix. Hey, I am asking nothing. I am making cosmetic repairs to possibly the most beautiful place we have ever lived in. It is in a place that should go fast. If it does not, I will be paying house notes, rent, and running over to take care of my mom. Because if my mom passes, her little pension will be terribly missed. That little tiny pension she was able to put $500 back each month in savings. Savings that are no more. Her little life is laden down with credit cards, loans, and her credit is ruined. (She, herself, has no idea what a credit card is.)This little woman was never late with a bill and wrote out a check when the bill came in. Never in debt. After the lawyer's office, looking at her asleep (I thought) in her wheelchair she acclaimed to my daughter "I am going to lose my house." Even in her last moments of clarity, she knows what is going on. Yes, I am bitter. Sometimes people think they are so smart to be finally brought to their knees. College does not make a person smart, it just usually ensures a job.............but sometimes it is not even that. Where would I be without Billy? Met him when he was 19. He was already working and putting back retirement. I added a bunch of years of retirement and then SS to that so our 80 years of combined working would have taken care of either of us if the other passed, something that was never going to happen. Surprise, surprise..........it did happen. My bitterness is combined with my joking. Like Billy said, he had to laugh at his own-self being stupid, if he did not laugh, someone would. I sure miss that fellow. I am going to shop for a 9 x 12 foot broom and all 5 feet of me will do a lot of shoving. I still worry about Shannon and all of the rest of you. I will be okay. Just had discussion with my son, I cannot carry the RV payments, insurance on truck and RV, and his phone bill also. He is facing an impossible task himself. My sister, if she lives longer than my mom, is facing an impossible task. My daughter, if she gets rid of her mechanical partner is facing a big job. I think my job is relatively easy, if like Kay says, I get to just face my own problems without taking on all the rest of the family's problems. Billy always envied my shoulders. I could have played fullback on some football team. He had small shoulders but was about 6'3". Together we looked like "Jack Sprat could eat no fat, his wife could eat no lean." Mutt and Jeff, for those old enough to remember.

Sometimes instead of writing in a notebook, I will come on here. One day, one place in time, I don't want to read what I wrote, just like reading it above. Sometimes the road ahead seems too much, too hard. The riding lawnmower won't start. Billy knew how to do this. There are two acres here. The two acres seem impossible, but the things in this house are overpowering. Garage sale? My garage sale daughter takes care of my mama in another state. I don't do garage sales. Somehow in going through this stuff, I find other people's things, my daughter's, her mechanical partner who she is trying to leave behind, but somehow all her things are in the garage, my granddaughter's, my son's, my son's girlfriend's things. I have asked everyone to get their things out. When we started RVing in the 1990's, I burned everything. Such a waste. At least when Billy took things to the dump there were people waiting to pick up what was trash to one man was gold to another. Platitudes, quotes, word salads. I am looking at a box of paper, lots of it important. Not so important that I cannot just look at it and write on here. Life goes on, or does it? The pills are gone. Do I leave this mess for someone else to clean up? Billy said that when one died the other would have all the worry and cares of this world to contend with. Gotta get myself together. Easier to write about my problem than to tackle it. Driving off the cliff seems plausible. Not very high cliffs in this part of the hills. I would probably botch that up too and still have to contend with even worse. And here I sit griping about not having shoes when there are people with no feet. Shannon faces things I cannot imagine. And she does it with four small children. I can support myself very well, I cannot support three separate families. But, neither can they. And I think this panic attack needs medicated. Yes, I will. Some won't, but I will.

Mitch, maybe they mean life will get easier. One, her husband has been gone 18 years. Another 8-9 years. But then again, my grandma said at 18 years the pain was as bad as the first day. I will pray for peace.

It is a long, hard path, but you all do help. My friends tell me that it will get easier. Sometimes I can just say "no, no, no"" over and over and sometimes I can change the direction. It seems he was just here with me yesterday and now I cannot find him. This morning was the first that I have been back in this king sized bed that I woke up and realized I was sad. I jumped up fast and did not wallow in it. I kissed the top of the wooden urn and just kept on going. Too much to do. Clearing out a life/house is hard work. Thanks to all you guys. Thanks to all you girls too.

Shannon. I just read some of your blog. I am so sorry. I honestly am at a time I cannot even think up words for the horror you and your little ones had to go through. I cannot find words for that funeral director. Sometimes our lives are hard, but my child, I pray for peace for you and your children. I wish your blog could be put in a newspaper just to show people what horror you had to go through, not with just the death of your loved one, but the way you were treated afterwards.

I think I live in a wonderland during the fall and spring. There is a house on the other side of the street, but all the houses are situated in valleys and hills hiding them from view. Ours is on a hill, that is our pink dogwood. There are forests in front of us, on the sides of us and behind us. It was home as long as Billy was here, but he wanted to leave before I did. He found our new RV that we never lived in, but did stay a bunch of nights in. The scenes around here are like being in a park. And I want to live in an apartment where I can hear life, besides animals. I won't take a picture of the dogwood this year, but it is blooming like this right now. No, I am not going to miss it. If Billy had loved it, it might have been different. We are not homesteaders. I promised Billy after he built the new oval porch that I was going to paint it. Tonight I got out and "etched" it. I have no idea what I was doing, but I was using a forceful stream on the washer and Billy's beautiful concrete porch was kinda washing away a little. I am still going to paint it. But, I think I might need to make about as fast an exit from here as Billy did. Anyhow, WK, I understand liking to hear life, even if you don't join in.

Joyce, I understand. You are probably a lot younger than I am, and getting an apartment on my own is the biggest step I have taken in all my years. I did feel guilty and kind of dirty looking up that old friend. Funny thing was, when he was 16 I had drawn his picture from a photograph. The picture I saw, he was sitting in the same position, and of course I could not recognize anything of that James Dean looking character I used to know. I have no wish to see him, or anyone else. All I want is what I cannot have. It just makes me feel older, and Billy never made me feel old. And, I still have most of my friends from even my 12 years of school over half a century ago. I have friends from two hospitals I worked at and some of them have lost their husbands. Then again, some of my classmates and friends I worked with, they are gone too. Maybe it is cut and dried like one of the books said, it is natural, your born, you marry, you die. Somehow that did not give me a boost.

Andre, what I watched was so beautiful. I am one of those people that cannot face music. I found a poem this week and it destroyed me. They are everywhere and I am sure your Margaret loved you very much. I don't know if I will live long enough that the hurt does not feel the alcohol poured into the open wound, and really, right now at five months, I do not look forward to living that long. But I will stay, because Billy told me I had to.

I guess I felt guilty because Billy was a jealous man. I would like to say I never gave him reason to be, and I didn't the first bunch of years, but somehow the leash got too tight and I broke it. But, the last 20 years were perfect. That is the one thing I wish I could change, but I cannot. Of course, he was not perfect either. But, he was perfect for me. Still, I was just curious, not shopping. Hope he was not watching.

I am a complicated character. My pain is as great as anyone else's. (To each of us our own pain is the worse.) I order books on grief, I go to Books-A-Million, Barnes Noble. I relive my pain at night before bed by reading other people's grief. Last night I ordered one for my Kindle. Good, three widows from Stephen's Women's College who get together again after their husbands die. They are all in their late 50's, early 60's when they lose their husbands. They decide to write a book to help other widows through the grief and helping them live again. The book is written probably a few years down the road. None of the three marry again. In the parts that I read they do not mention dating. (Thank goodness). But the thing that turned me off was all three women went on to have successful lives, one ran her husband's company and then turned it over to her daughter (had only been run by family.) They traveled, they got on with a life without their husbands. In fact, the whole book was about how they made successful lives without their husbands. (I felt disgust because they were happy, how is that possible?) I paid $5.99 on Kindle for this book. This morning, I took it off my reading list. These women were happy. I am not ready for happy. What is wrong with me that I would begrudge three women going on to have a happy life after losing their husband? One woman even built a new house and enjoys living on the hill and watching the animals that come around her house out of Santa Fe, New Mexico. The audacity of it. How can people lead happy lives after such a loss. Is it possible? I think not for me because I am too old. At least that is what I think. I hesitantly looked up an old friend from my teenage days on FB. (And, I am embarrassed to say I did this.) I felt guilty. No one knew but me. I felt disloyal to Billy. Made me so depressed. I was just curious. That fellow had gotten old. He had a cigarette in his hand. Made me even more despondent. Mainly because people have gotten old during the 54 years I was married. Not me, I know I am still 17.