Margm

I have talked ad nauseam about clearing out the house in Arkansas. I am a total mass of contradictions. On one hand, I cannot get rid of his clothes and his hobby materials. Now I am having to reexamine what to do with things in the house. I have to ask myself WWBD. (What would Billy do). The king sized bed has lasted longer than most marriages, lots of mattress covers. He would be gone in the RV. I am going to just start over with everything but his desk. Yesterday my truck would not start at Walmart. I know how a low battery sounds. This was no sound, no turnover at all. The man in the auto parts came out and tightened the battery cable. Started right up. So much this ole gal does not know. Battery is two years old. My daughter's partner is a shadetree mechanic, loves it. Was going to put in a new battery, so I take it to Walmart and got a new battery and cables and fittings. I have not had an easy time lately. I miss Billy, of course, the feeling is unreal. But I am faced with my mom's care also. If it was up to me, my mom would be in an Alzheimer's unit. I won't go into the reasons, but when there is nothing you can do, there is just plain nothing you can do. Went to a lawyer Friday. Suffice it to say that I have to save enough for funeral and succession. Other than that, it is out of my hands. Things are so tied up, I cannot save anyone but me. Her finances have been in my sister's hands for longer than I can afford. I am in one nightmare inside of another nightmare. I cannot save my sister and cannot save my mom. Where in the book of life does it say one life cancels out another?

Focusing is something I still cannot do Kay. My memory is gone. In talking to a lawyer about my mom yesterday, I sat in a corner, back seat, like I do in church. I was listening. Then, I had a valid thought to interject. To my teacher sister, who is a lecturer in college, I was a student, and she sternly told me not to interrupt. The lawyer looked to me to finish my thought and I could not. It had disappeared, gone in space, and I still cannot remember what was to be said. I cannot see myself in the book Widow to Widow . I see this woman as a pioneer to forums and books. This was many years ago. The author was a marriage counselor. Her husband had dropped dead while playing tennis. I saw so many of the women on our forum. She had to go back to work and listen to the petty complaints of bickering married people. Can you think of a harder thing to do than listen to the trivial bickering while your husband is gone? Then she talked to a widow friend. Things began to open up. This woman felt the same pain she did. She decided to volunteer for a group of widows to all discuss these problems. She advertised for a group of widows to discuss the pain they all shared. On a very rainy day, 83 women showed up to this first meeting. This is how I felt, this is what I was looking for when I found Marty, this forum, you, and the various people that showed me I needed to flush those 50 morphine pills. You were all still alive and maybe not kicking as high, but years later you were still handling car problems, money problems, home problems, and absence of mate problems. And I found out, if I had gone first, Billy would have felt the pain of our wonderful men on this forum. None of us are suffering any less than the one posting, answering, or starting a new thread. I so admire the feelings being discussed, the one year all the way up to ten and more years. I already had my grandmother's words that the pain at 18 years was so great. (I still had my morphine pills at that time, I did not feel good about 18 year pain,) She still persevered for nearly 30 years after my grandfather's death. I don't know about my other grandmother. She had my father take my other grandfather to the state institution where he passed two weeks later. I only remember my dad's sorrow for this man. No one seemed to even know he was gone. I did not know about the author of this book, but I actually grieve for this pioneer woman.

@Kay, I think I am a wuzz. I really don't like confrontations, but somehow, I am getting mean. Usually though, I will feel so bad. I miss Billy, he was my backbone. But I am left looking for a pair of family jewels. I don't wear then very comfortably.

Gin and Mitch, I blamed the whole state of Arkansas. After I get rid of that house I never even want to go over the state line. I was born on the Louisiana side of the state line so my life borders Arkansas, but no matter, I blame the whole state. I don't have to make sense. I didn't before I lost Billy, so now I am certifiable. People understand.

One thing that has confounded me was my lack of concentration.. I read.............lots. Or rather I used to. I have books packed on my Kindle, but I picked the book up at Barnes Noble called Widow to Widow , which is, I think #64 or #65 (memory gone) on the bibliography list on this forum. The author lived in Tucson, I believe, and the preface of the book grabbed me. So did the rest of the book. It is for widowers also. The author is/was Genevieve Davis Ginsburg, M.S. I wish I had not googled her name. She passed away nearly 20 years ago, and I feel like now I am mourning a friend too. I want to quote from one passage of the book, and that will be my only quote. But, the book is "us." It is all of us, whether we are 30 years old or 80. Grief Is An Equalizer. Although younger widows face some distinct problems, just as the elderly widow does, at the beginning the great equalizer of all widows is grief. An 80-year-old woman whose husband died in his sleep and a young woman whose husband was killed in a motorcycle accident are amazed to find they are undergoing the same process. "But you had so many years together," one is told. "You can start again," the other hears. However, they are both equally hurt, angry and confused. And it would be remiss not to add that men are no different from women in this regard and their sorrow is no less profound. I used to type manuscripts for doctors to be sent to publications, but you will have to forgive me if I did not put this in the correct way. There is also a chapter about memory and confusion in this book, as I am sure many books on grief talk about. This is each of us, our own personal journey, the same, and some different. I don't know why this author reached me, but she did and now I feel sadness that I cannot thank her. The author Edward Abbey had passed away a month before I discovered his books. I read them all, and I think of him every time I see a buzzard. That is what he wanted to "come back as," in that form. I think sometimes I write a lot about nothing. Had a rough week, and this book actually helped me. Did not make me see Billy, but it did help me see myself.

Stephen, my son thinks he can talk to spirits. He thinks when he coded twice on the operating table that it opened a portal. I don't mean he goes out and hunts them down, but there are stories about Hot Springs and the bathtub gin era. The many people who died in gunfights. He met three above the place that he worked. He had an apartment there. They did not talk, but he talked to them. Billy did not believe in the supernatural and my son would talk to me. He thinks I am psychic, I'm not. I have had things happen to me that cannot be explained. It is such a controversial subject and just like religion, you have believers and non-believers. I choose to believe in God, others do not. I have a friend whose house is haunted by people she does not know. They move stuff around and she can hear them at night. Her grandkids will not stay in the house. She has had all kinds of mediums, religious guides, and nothing will get rid of them. This is a very sane woman who tried to get away from them and had a new house built. They moved with her.. Many of our classmate friends have brought in people to help her get rid of them. Nothing helps. I have felt strange in houses we have gone to in our travels and got out fast. I told the tale of walking Signal Peak in New Mexico. Then, I researched and found other people had heard them. I have faith in a God we cannot see. My faith is weak, but some people will not/can not believe in this. We believe in things seen and not seen. My son has talked to his daddy. He says Billy does not want to scare me. We take comfort from where we can get it. I have my doubts about religion, but I have doubts that I am going to be able to pick my mama up off the floor when I go to babysit her in a few minutes. I have lots of doubts about myself. I believe in divine intervention, from where, I don't know. But, some things we have to believe in, faith can be a word that means you believe in yourself. I don't believe in myself. I too believe in things seen and unseen.

My son was born in 1962, and over the years every time that song plays, I will cry. It haunts a person. Music sets me off.

You all, we second guess ourselves all the time. some of the best doctors are on staff at teaching hospitals. I retired from a state teaching hospital. I was even involved in screening residents for a surgery service. We took the best. But I let Billy down taking him to this teaching hospital. He had me choose and I feel I helped kill him. They hurt him terribly. In a survey I told them I would not recommend them for even an autopsy. It was not a cost choice, they charge those with insurances more to help cover free care patients. I honestly thought he would get the best care because a private clinic referred him to the head of neurosurg for the aneurysm. But I cannot look back now, the game is over. And maybe because I have to climb out of this hole I find comfortable, facing the impossible mess with my mom and sister, my numbness has dissolved and I am vulnerable again. My daughter today wrote how proud of me she was and how courageous I am in bad situations. I feel like kids play-dough,

"Of course that is MY feelings" Each of us suffer through this hard work of grief. Mine is not better or worse to anyone but me. I certainly now have empathy for others. I do have a feeling of being blessed to have had him so long, but I did not want to ever give him up. I also was blessed with many milestones others did not have. If I had it to do all over again, I would only change one thing. Two years ago this month I went to the doctor, x-rays, MRI done. Treated for the UTI. Went two weeks with over 101 temp. Had just gone to the clinic in the morning. UTI Bactrim again. Billy wanted me to go to ER. Both kids were there. Nope, I was not going. Then I lost consciousness and they called the ambulance. I remember nothing of the first week. Overall sepsis, ruptured intestines. Same thing that killed Patty Duke. They put Billy on alert that I might not make it. This morning I am not feeling thankful. My sister told me Mama was not eating her breakfast. I fixed the usual concoction, Big bowl. She ate the whole thing. We are all odd creatures.

Unfortunately, or in my case, I find I fit in more now than I did when I mentioned it was anniversary #50, 51, 52, 53, and finally 54. My friends, most did not make that long and if I mentioned it, I was afraid I would be a reminder that they would have no more and I did not want to lord my happiness over them. So my grief now just follows along behind them and the 2-3 couples left, I know they are feeling like I did, and what should be a joyous celebration is quietly mentioned. I knew I should feel lucky, quietly we did. We never celebrated in a big way though. We were never big celebrators of birthdays, Father's Day, Mother's Day, so, the days will come and go, We will miss giving presents to Billy the Kid. You youngsters though, my grief is just as great as yours and I miss Billy as much (and in MY own feelings) more than you. Of course that is MY feelings. So in my group of friends, I fit in more than I used to. I'm not happy about that, but the older you get, you fall into ordered disorder. I am sorry. One of my friends, and a relative will quietly celebrate. She publicly pulled him through prostate cancer, but now dementia has taken over and she is no longer remembering holidays, each day is a new trial, like it is where I am fixing to go and wrestle my mom to her potty chair, to her wheelchair, to her seat on the couch, making her oatmeal with marshmallows, honey, condensed milk, and finally her scoop of butter pecan ice cream on top. Should we be concerned that it is the wrong nutrients? Probably not. Also a cut up banana. Next month I have to be gone, I don't know how things will play out then. If I had my choice she would have 24 hour professional care. That would be in a perfect world........which this is not. Honor thy father and thy mother. One of the commandments. Like I said, I have not killed anyone, yet.

Mitch, I love the picture and she is so happy. Seeing any breakthrough in your daily feelings gives hope to us all. I wish peace for all of us. Grieving is such hard, exhausting work.

34 minutes ago, Froggie4635 said: Today is my 54th birthday. In the shower this morning, I realized that I am now older than my husband, and it hurts so much. New computer, I don't know how to put on quotes. Hope for a sunny day birthday Maryann. I don't know how to wish this. Of course you are not happy. But, I sincerely hope that one of these days we will find some measure of happiness. My heart is with you my friend. I signed all the Easter cards with Billy's name first. I will forever do that because his retirement went into buying them as much as mine did. Again, I know it cannot be happy, but that is what I wish one day for us both, and all the other good people here. But, I will always consider Billy two years older than me.

Yep, I like that.

There are a lot of things I forget doing. Sometime after Billy passed, I wrote pages of my feelings. I had three separate notebooks with writings in them. (I was cleaning out papers) Just like buying things I do not remember where or when. I read a few pages, not many, and it was like pouring salt into an open wound. I write on here. I can be as morose as I want to be, but I don't have to go back and read them. I will not write in a notebook to read later. I threw them all away and did not mind doing it. "One size indeed does not fit all." I see writing about not fitting in with anyone. No relatives, no friends to depend on. Kinda like eating German Chocolate Cake, a little is good, but you will get sick if you have too much. I am depended on to be in three places. I am needed here for many reasons, but the main one is to babysit my mom. I am going to be gone for a month.. I pay my daughter to sit with her. I went all last week trying to figure out how we could keep my mom on the Alzheimer's unit. She needs constant care. For monetary reasons I cannot go into, nothing can be done. My sister is ill. If I get one seen about the other suffers. Friday I will sign over any rights I have to any part of my mother's house or land or anything in the house. This is no problem for me, but if both of them "go" then I am afraid I will be stuck with all the home loans. This is an impossible situation and my kids will never be stuck with me for any reason. My house in Arkansas is occupied again. I am going to clean house and buy a lot of paint brushes. The internet, DISH, and utilities will be turned off at the end of April. Whatever happens after that is not on me. The keys will be given to the realtor. I don't really care about "finding myself." I just want to try to live "on my own." So, if you have no one, if you have no friends, please wish for a happy medium. Sometimes more is not better. I don't know how I am going to handle this, but suffice it to say, I hate hurting peoples feelings. When I had cancer I had teenaged girl problems and a son who was on drugs problem.. And, did not know if I was going to die or not. I found a stupid little poem I wrote for myself back then. "I'm not that important, life does go on; if I was not here, then I'd be gone." Silly little ditty of my feelings then and fits me perfectly right now.

Mitch, I am superstitious. I also love that big picture of Billy. He looks like he is being kept captive. I did, I kept him barefoot and pregnant for 54 wonderful, some bumpy roads, years. Now, this should make 667. A person that talks too much is described as having "diarrhea of the mouth." What do you call someone that types too much?

Oh gosh Kevin, I totally forgot, Billy and I both got caught without seatbelts. It was on I-220 out of Bossier City, and it was $25 each. We were just a couple of redneck convicts. Also quite a few years ago.

"and you do have MUCH wisdom!" @WolfsKat: Not wisdom, just years of experience, lots of mistakes and still standing. Can still walk a lot too, as long as I can keep the necessities (bathroom) close. But, thank you for the sweet words.

@kay, Mama wavers from significantly sane for about three seconds and then she is gone again. I have not heard her talk about her five husbands lately. I think she did it for my benefit because Billy had passed away. She would say they were all healthy when she married them but died anyhow. She noticed I had been crying. She said "you've been crying, it is hard." Made me cry more until she asked my sister if the DC superheroes on her Tee shirt were pictures of her kids. I tried to get her from her bed to the wheelchair this morning, was very perplexed, turned my back for a second and she was sitting in her chair perfectly. My daughter tried transferring her from couch to chair and both fell. Kelli asked "Maw, are you okay." She said "Yes, are you okay?" Sometimes she is here for a few seconds, then she is off in space. When Kelli comes in her face lights up like she is so happy. Still, caring for her is very hard. She is on hospice and will be 95 on June 2nd. She will look at me and call me her pretty baby. Alzheimer's is sad. All significant illness is hard, but this just drains the brain. Mama has always had a few screws loose, as long as I have known her, so this just slipped up on us. She was keeping her own checkbook a couple of years ago. If I had been as business savvy as she was, I would be a billionaire. Well, maybe just a millionaire. This is Louisiana..

@Kay, I never felt old until autumn of 2015. I think I will Google me. I know the only time I broke the law was a speeding ticket in about 1964. Cost me $10. At least that is the only time I was caught. (I don't feel googled). Heck. Yep, I am old.

Kay, I have called them before for not having the vitamin water other Wal-Marts had. I had it within a week. (But calling the people who put out the no-fat potato chips did not bring them back). Obviously I would not be on this forum if I had any pull anywhere.

I am one of those people who will think I have a bargain for $4.99, rather than $5.00. I will not put up with someone "in charge" fussing at a worker in front of customers. I saw an assistant manager dressing down a "greeter" and I went up and got his name off his shirt and called Wal-Mart corporate. This was an elderly man he was fussing at in front of Wal-Mart customers. The elderly man could not fuss back. I never saw the assist. manager again. I very much dislike loud customers too. Did you know you can stare them down without opening your mouth. I think sometimes I enjoy being a witchy old woman. My mom checked groceries for years and years in our small town and some of our nicest people were demons at grocery checkout.

Mitch, Billy would always say that I was him and he was me, and that is all I can consider, if that is true we are still together, ,I just cannot see him. Our daughter had minor surgery yesterday, she came out of.the anesthesia crying. He had visited her, kissed her on the cheek and assured her everything was going to be okay. It was, no cancer. He was always there for them even as they are our middle age "kids."

No, you don't have to explain to any of us. I enjoy just seeing in big letters on my mom's roadside mailbox ELVIE HAYNES, and he has been gone since 1984. At least his name is still alive.

Joyce, Billy's sense of humor was brutal. He bought a piece of pipe to fix the plumbing with and the glue recommended was no good. He walked into our very small town True Value with a look of anger (he always wore a beard too) and loudly asked for the man who had sold him the glue. The man was creeping out the back door. Billy was only teasing but the customers and salesman didn't know that. Sometimes I had to be along to buffer his jokes. And if I could only hear him with his duck calls, crow calls, and all the others he collected, I would not fuss at all.

I have always hated being serious Marty, but this literally brought me to my knees. It's coming back slowly. I used to write a blog and stories for my friends. They all ask me to continue it, but I find myself just being morose. The blog was for friends and Billy enjoyed it. No, he loved it. He was to take the pictures and I would write. It is all gone now. No fiction, just sometimes exaggerated truth. I miss him, but I will find an outlet. I found where I wrote in a journal the month of December. I forgot I had written I destroyed them. I have enough sadness, I don't want to rehash it. Thank you Marty.