Margm

Patty and Bill, all you have to do is read. I just held the heavy wooden urn and talked to Billy. My path is trying to find my faith. That is not the path others seek. Some do, and find a semblance of peace, but nothing covers this pain. We cannot sugar coat it. We can scream, we can cry until we cannot breath. I will admit, in the first month I had a plan to drive into the vast national forest that surrounds our house. I was going to have enough identification that my loved ones did not have to identify my body. I had 50 morphine pills left. I lashed out in anger at a family member and I am lucky to not be in an institution. I could not stand the pain. Can I call my position lucky? In the long run, maybe. I do not want to hurt my family any worse than they already are. I lost a great man. They lost the world's best father and grandfather. Also, I am not sure if my belief is right, or if any is right, and I want the feeling I will be with Billy when I go. Okay, this is just me. There are a lot more experienced, more intelligent than I am. I am retired, I don't have to worry about working and I have enough to live comfortable. But I can live comfortable in a 10 X 10 room. Plenty of lunch meat, bread, Miracle Whip, V8 Diet Fruit drinks and Healthy Choice frozen dinners, plus Boost and Ensure. Your immediate memory is gone, the anger and guilt sets in. People get insentive to your grief. At my stage I am numb and I welcome it. Then I have mind bending guilt, and I have anger. You are in the right place. I hate the saying of "misery loves company." It is an old saying that goes back to even Sophocles( c. 408 b.c.) Fellow sufferers make unhappiness easier to bear. I think in this case, it means we all walk the same path, only breaking away to the other path that "helps" you the most. I joined at three days. Billy has been gone five months. We are all trying to survive something that companies, work places. give you 2-3 days to "get over it. Yeah, like that is going to happen. I cannot look at couples with envy. I look at them with the knowledge one is going to suffer this unbearable pain. I look in their eyes and I am a reminder that it will happen. If they avoid me, I understand. We wish you did not have to be here, but you will find Marty gives us lessons that makes us understand we are not crazy. (The verdict is still not decided yet on me.)

On March 14th I wrote half a page. I have found a new form of gorilla glue to cover this amputation. Anger. I know, I know.This too shall pass. Poor Billy. When Billy and I would fuss, my dad always questioned me, "What did you do now." He admired Billy for putting up with me.

I have something funny to tell about the volunteering and my mom. There is a book that describes my mom's life, and "condition." I will explain my mom's life here. She was not without talents, but she had raw language and a tongue that could slice a person's vital parts off. The book is I Hate You, Please Don't Leave Me".. She has borderline personality disorder. When my dad passed away, she found herself with time on her hands. This is a "working hard" woman. She still (Alzheimer's) remembers having to quit her wonderful job to take care of my terminally ill dad, and she still resents him for it. And he is long gone. When he passed, my mom said he had a smile on his face. My son said it was because he was so glad to escape. What I am getting at is, her work ethic was to get paid for "work." If she was born in this time, she would have been CEO of some company with 2-3 PhD's, no husband and certainly no kids.. I mentioned volunteering to her. Her words were "WHAT!!!! WORK FOR FREE?" Her mind turned to money. Sometimes she saved $500 a month, half of her pension. All of her savings went to schools for my sister. Two years ago she went into rehab from a fall. She is still waiting for them to pay her for those two month's "work." So ladies, all of you that volunteer, my hat is off to you all for your gift of time to all of these things. And, the one who added that extra Saturday that was not appreciated, you need to go to the person in charge and let them know how you were treated. No volunteer should be treated bad. My sister teaches at a predominantly black college. She is the least racist person I know. Her students are her kids and she loves them all. But she put our mom in a predominantly black nursing home for rehab. People in their 80's and 90's are racist, black or white. My mom was laughed at and treated bad. She tried to whip the black woman in the other bed for her and her visitors laughing at her. Sometimes education does not make you smart. But saying you derive more from volunteering than you give, then in my estimation, you are going to have stars in your crown, (and that is my opinion, and mine alone). This does not belong in this thread, but it follows volunteering.

@Gwen, you have my utmost admiration for your post. It takes a special person to do this.

Brad, we are all in this journey together. You honor your wife with beautiful words. We each read between the lines how much you hurt, and we all wish we had a hand on that golden shovel you are using to help yourself climb out of this hole we all live in. @Cookie, I love your actions of looking in the mirror, but if I looked at myself in the mirror longer than the time it took me to just glance at the old woman that passed by, I would go into a deep depression. I cannot concentrate yet, but I see, feel, and read all your pain. Two things have been written on this forum that resonate with me. "One size does not fit all" and "if you are falling off a cliff we reach for anything that will save us." @Kevin, I admire your trying to climb out of this hole. I am in Louisiana right now, and if you follow the news, if I stayed in this hole, I would drown. My searching for my faith and my anger with God, well that size certainly does not fit some of you. That will not cause me to quit my search. It is my journey, it is my cliff. But, you all have my admiration for the things you do to try to help yourself climb out of this hole. At five months, I cannot dig this hole any deeper. That is why I appreciate each of you that tries to throw us a lifeline. So, thank you Brad, Kevin, Marty, and any of you that try to help us.

I think this is a good read Kevin. I could never understand my mother's anger and my friend's anger at their spouses for dying. It was their fear of being alone, and it was a bandage to cover a wound that does not heal. I go to sleep each night with ear buds tuned to different things. So far, the subliminal messages have not worked, at least I do not think they have. I have found that I can take a memory from our long years together and cover the open wound with anger at something we had forgiven each other for, years ago. I know what I am doing and why I am doing it. Someone said in another thread that when we are falling off a cliff, we grab at anything we can. We do.

I think some times I get bitter and angry. No one cares about history. Our history, all of ours, we each have the death certificates that show, our main history is just that, history and memories. I was blessed with many years. I am selfish, I wanted many more. Billy and I worked 80 years between us. We did not plan for one of us to be gone. But, we did plan for both of us, or even one of us to live our last years. I cannot support three families, but I can support me. And plans are made where neither of our kids will be bothered with me if I get in the position of other family members. We all know now that dying is not cheap. This is reality, and it has smacked each one of us upside the head. Some of our fairy tale existences have become a raw reality show. I hate reality shows.

@Gwen: That was mine and Billy's nights when we were RVing. Reading was our entertainment. He had the first Kindle, but it needed a light. We joined Amazon's Prime and the one that he could read books free on Kindle. Then our granddaughter made the mistake of leaving her Kindle Fire that had a lit-up screen. As much as he loves her, she was not getting it back. So, I ordered her a new one. He would read his Kindle, I would read mine. When he left, I retired both Kindle's with covers and they reside beside his urn along with his cell phone. I read things that have short stories. I cannot concentrate either yet. We are on "Billy's #5 Kindle." I will never change that name.

I really once had the hair-brained notion that if we could get the RV on the road we could out run death. I had escaped death twice, we were not going to let it happen. I could save us both. I was superwoman. Nope, just superdumb.

All of what you said Brad. My sister's birthday is today. Her greatest gift was Medicare. She is a few hours short of her PhD. The state of Louisiana treats everyone better than it does its teachers. She loves teaching English and writing to young men and women in college that will be less educated, will be less period without the teachers they will no longer pay. As to the grief, I have found out screaming gives me a headache. I have cried long, hard, breathless until I think if I keep on, I will surely die, and it was a welcome feeling. The only thing that scared me was the lack of fear. My great granddaughter throws fits of screaming, flailing of limbs until her parents give in. My Billy is gone. I think if I had him back I would wear him out telling him how I cannot live without him. The final verdict is, no amount of screaming, crying, wishing, fit throwing is going to bring him back. Today I will go place.wreaths on his parents grave. I have his ashes with me in a beautiful wooden urn with a tree engraved and a verse under it. They fixed a purple amulet with a few of his ashes and his thumbprint. I cannot wear it. The only thing I get comfort from is his saying that he was me and I was him. If that is true, then he is me. I wear our rings on a double thick chain that rests next to my heart. And I get angry everytime I remember him saying "the one left, must stay." All I can think of that is dammit, here I am. But he is me, I am him. I cannot see him, I cannot touch him. My mother taught me fairy tales. I had a magical life. She taught me "if wishes were horses, beggars would ride." My mother-in-law taught me the real meaning of wishing. "Wish in one hand and S___T in the other, and see which one fills up the fastest."

Well Marty, I have got to tell you something. (And people on this forum, I am only speaking for myself when I say this) you are a God-send for me. And again, this is my own personal opinion, but all I am lacking (besides Billy) is the faith I hope I find. I have grief books on top of grief books, and I have read through two, yours and one given by my mother's hospice, and it was written on only a few pages. You give it to us in simple terms. You see, this mind of mine used to transcribe operations, teaching hospital complex transplants, all diseases, all fungal words and treatments, but this new mind I was left with after Billy left can only understand simple words and pictures and I am sure I probably spell my own name wrong. I still remember my SS#, but have to have my phone # written where I can see it. So, thank you for speaking in words and interesting little stories even I can understand, and receive help from. Also, as an aside, I have twice in the last five months mentioned my confusion on checking out at two different stores, blaming it on just losing my husband. Twice, I have been told they just lost a child. How small I felt. I had Billy 54 years, and I sure do miss that boy. They lost a child.

I do find that most of my loving feelings left with Billy. My family loves this old eccentric woman, but the fringe family are only bothers right now. I felt no warmth toward the spoiled great grandchild I had never seen before. Billy would have. I find my mother and sister only aggravate me. Still dreaming of that motel in the middle of Texas. "I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep." I do not feel sorry for myself today, I am a cantankerous old woman. I like me.

After my last radiation treatment, we went back for the three month checkup and I had four GYN oncology doc's tell me it had, by their examinations, it had returned. That was 1982. This was MD Anderson. I was stunned. Billy told me it was impossible. They said they could give me no more radiation. They did pathology specimens. Can you believe this was before they were using MRI's, CT scans, and PET scans? Billy had me so calmed down that by the time we got back to Shreveport I was not even thinking about it. When they called me with the negative results the next week, I was not even surprised. Billy was my backbone. So, when he was diagnosed, I was preparing for another miracle. I never wavered, not even when he was telling me he had to go. I got angry with him. The doc's had said months, this was only five weeks. The only thing I did for him was not let him hurt, even if he grimaced I would give him a pain pill. And, people may frown on this, I don't care. He was happy every evening before bedtime because he had weed. Son's come in handy a lot of times.

Kevin, here is my wicked thinking, and I know how bad I am. I am not going to have to worry about anything. My mom is going to outlive us all.

DANGER: Faith is going to be mentioned here. I won't mention politics, I promise. "One size does not fit all." Today is five months. I hate to do that. I quit counting days, I quit counting weeks, but every Saturday morning, I still remember. I make up things in my mind that are wrong. I ask things that are wrong. I won't go into my wrong thinking. I am intelligent enough to know it is very wrong. I visited the Episcopal minister. Every time he got a text (often) his attention went to his phone. Okay. I have visited with the Baptist minister, and next week will talk with another minister. You see, I have misplaced something I need. Oh, I have visited psychiatrists, but not for this problem. You see, I had over 54 years with Billy. We were such kids. I married him to get away from my mom and dad. He knew it. We made a lot of mistakes, we did some things that most marriages would not have lasted. About in 1993, we separated for six weeks. That was the end of our stupidity. Things were forgiven and never mentioned again. I do not remember him not being my life. And, I am sorry to say, most of our trouble was my making. I have been through a period of numbness. But then, I have not been alone except when I go the nearly five miles to babysit my mom. My sister's ER visit brought back anxiety. I talk to Billy. Coming back to my daughter's house I screamed at Billy, at God, at life and death and how much I have facing me. I have to get the house on the market but my assistance with my mom is not going to be there and I have been expected to be here and in Arkansas too. I cannot do it all, I cannot be in both places at once and the reaction is "why not?" For myself, I have to get the faith that has been stretched so thin that it and myself will snap soon. Yes I had 54 years. I don't remember who I am. I was him. I am also a daughter caught in my sister's situation of having my mom where her money and property are tied up in debt. Not my debt. But still my problem. Yep, I am considering parking my truck behind some small town motel in the middle of Texas.

For anyone that reads my posts, unless I am in a blue funk, I might tease and joke. If I was a cougar, I might still have hormones. That cancer radiation burned every little atom of hormone I ever had away. I have not missed them. My granddaughter and I watch a lot of TV. Some of the "eye candy" I mention have caught my nearly 17-year old granddaughter's eye. And if Billy were with me I would not even be teasing about it. Of course, if he was with me, I would not be on this forum. I have had a few days of numbness. I welcomed it. I babysit my nearly 95-year-old (closer to two year-old mind) mother. Night before last, while babysitting my mother, my sister came home early. She was dizzy. She went to the bathroom and for about 30 minutes threw up material that was coming from somewhere deep within, most likely from her chronic obstructive lung disease. My mother needs 24 hour care. The house is tied up in loans. (Not mine) Her vast education made her be turned down for disability. She requested an ambulance. I sat with her, a friend sat with our mom. No insurance, Medicare starts Saturday. They did tests, CT scan, blood and urine tests. They called it vertigo, high blood pressure, and her COPD. She actually needs on oxygen. Our new governor inherited a state budget that was worse than after Katrina. So he raised the so called sin tax. Tobacco and alcohol. I think maybe she will have to cut down. But truth be known, if I kept my mom, I would be drunk 24 hours a day. But if it was in my hands, she would have 24 hour care for Alzheimers patients. Okay, this is life. I know how cold blooded I sound. I am an old woman. My mother is that child my sister never had. We had two parents that should never have been parents. But still that was our life, we made it through, they did not have a book to read to raise us. Not their fault. They did the best they could. Both were cold and uncaring. Now she gets to suck the life out of my sister. I was blessed with more years with Billy than most of you haved lived your life. Still, I get bitter and unreasonable. They do say only the good die young. My numb feeling broke, I am going to look for it again.

The northern lights were on our bucket list. Hope you see them often. And I miss that person who added music and color to our forum. Maybe a little spice. But we ALL have to get along.

Hey girls, I would never physically cheat on Billy, but a gal can dream. Well, I am not ready to dream yet. I will say I did talk to a fellow I graduated with. I did not recognize him. I know I am still 17. He got to be an old man. Too bad. Robert DiNero is getting long in the tooth, and Robert Redford has had too much work done, but he is still moving.

Myself, old men are too old. Only one old man appealed to me. Now, if you want to discuss Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Jensen Ackles, Gerard Butler, Chris Evans, Zac Efron, Henry Cavill, well...........(And I put these names down knowing Billy will get me back somehow.) He was jealous of me liking Tony Curtis when I was a kid. Heck, even Clint Eastwood is too old, now he does have a son that qualifies, Scott Eastwood. See, even old women prefer younger men.

Prayers for happiness and health for this family. Thank you for updates Kay, please keep them coming.

@Daughter: I think your mom and dad raised some very thoughtful and caring children. My heart goes out to your dad, but it sounds like you and your siblings have his back. My daughter wanted a painting she had given Billy and I would not let them touch anything. They handled me like the crazy grieving mama that I was. Then I felt bad and was going to take it off the wall and it was gone. My son found it in a stack I had set aside for her. I did not remember taking it off the wall. That is something else you have to look over, our memory. I have already said when I got home the first of March was the most beautiful bedspread and shams of red and purple. It was me. Only I cannot remember buying it. I wonder if I can so completely forget something so little, then why can't I block out bad things. Anyhow, I already know your dad has the best of support, and my kids are wonderful too. Sometimes I am a witch but they hang with me. Your a wonderful daughter. I know your mom is proud.

Right now, in two days it will be five months, my only plans for travel would be east of the Mississippi River. We never had plans for, or visited anything but the west. Billy wanted to be Jeremiah Johnson, the mountain man. I cannot bring myself (at this moment in time) to even visit Arkansas ever again once I get rid of de house. I think that is called avoidance, which I practice a lot.

@Karen, it has been so long since we were out in Deming, but it brings back good memories. We always stayed at Escapee RV parks and they like to hug and Billy said he was going to run. He didn't, he hugged. The wind blows so hard and coming into town there were beautiful purple flowers on all the bushes. Come to find out, they were K-Mart plastic bags blown into the sagebrush. Wish I could go back.......with Billy. Not gonna happen.

I hurt Billy the last time I cooked for him. I have not cooked since. I know he was already sick, but we had no diagnosis. After that he could not eat. I fix Lean Cuisine, sandwiches and Boost. I let other family cook or buy take out.

Anytime I am by myself, that is me and Billy time. And now he cannot argue with me. He always had selective hearing anyhow.