Margm

Andre', that was beautiful. The song is hauntingly beautiful and appropriate. Thank you.

Yes Karen, it is all devastating. Any problem at this time in our life is devastating. I am a crazy woman, I get in my truck (which is the only time I am alone) and I ask Billy what to do. I know if he answered me, I would wreck the truck. Kay seems very capable, she seems like someone that knows what to do, but know she has her moments. My neighbor sister widow, I know how much money she gets each month. (She helped me after Billy passed, her job was accounting at a bank.) Her house is huge, three levels. At one time they were comforting. They still are comforting, but reality has hit her in the face. She has two grown children who live here and relatives everywhere. Her husband was in construction and she knows who to hire to come fix things. But, money is halved. My mom used to quote to me word by word a poem called "The House With Nobody in it." As a child, I cried for that house. (You can google the title and it will come up.) My dad used to sing Jimmie Rogers' songs to me. They were lonesome, yodeling, poor people songs, borne out of the depression era. I would cry. Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep at night thinking about the poor man riding the boxcars. "Nobody seems to want me, or to lend me a helping hand, 1000 miles away from home, just sleeping in the rain." My house and land are worth so much more than I will "get rid" of it for. My neighbor's beautiful house takes fixing all the time. Squirrels even eating on the wood. I hear her middle aged son shooting squirrels. I am sure, somewhere down the line in my lineage, there were gypsies. I know you cannot tell it by my red hair, fair skin, blue eyes and freckles. But, I am not Native American either. I sure wanted to be. I would have had to be kidnapped in infancy to be from their lineage. A big disappointment to me. My great grandmother's pictures look like pure Cherokee to me. Unfortunately, they were pure Irish. Don't mind being a mixed breed person. I just wanted to be part of the landscape before my people took it away from the people who lived here first. That is why, at my age, and my conditions (illnesses), I choose to rent an apartment with sparse furniture. I will be comfortable. Billy's things will move with me. What to do with all his fishing equipment? My daughter sent me a picture of a fly rod and reel bent to hold pictures hung through the line holders, and two giant bobbers on the end. I am not crafty, but I can do this, and the others in the family can have his other rods and reels. None of us have the heart to go fishing yet, that was his "thing," and being out on the river or bayou is too painful right now, for any of us. We don't even watch his fishing shows. When the TV series on AMC of the Union Pacific Railroad building went on hiatus, and I think it comes back soon, Billy was not sick. (Well, he was, but we did not know it.) He hated so bad waiting till spring for it to come on again. It ended, like they all do, in a cliffhanger. I do not care to watch it. I am angry at a lot of things. But, his favorite author C.J. Box, I will continue to buy his new books. I ordered them as they came out on Kindle. If he was me and I was him, then maybe he will enjoy them. I know he did not believe in supernatural things and my mind was wide open to ghosts, magic, mystical, runaway imagination things. When he left, he took that part of me with him. And some of these "straws," they can be very heavy and can and do "break the camel's back."

I don't know really how to welcome someone to this forum. None of us want to be here. But, it is the most understanding group of people, simply because each of us have faced a loss that has changed our life forever. Our marriages changed our life forever, so certainly losing that person changed it into a long dark night. We try to think up things that might help, but right now, nothing really helps. The only thing that would help is having them come back, but of course that is not possible. So, we search for any lifeline that will keep us from drowning. And, I think each of us wish we could have followed. Having been the one that we both thought would pass away first, I know first hand that as long as we were married, I just could never think of leaving him. I believe he felt the same way. He said I was him and he was me. But, the magic that was us left 10/17/2015. I have noticed that some of my married friends, the ones who have not lost a mate, I notice I do not hear from them as much anymore. One of my widow friends tells me that their friends (hers and her husbands) act like they do not want to be around her anymore. I see something sad in this though. Those of us that are left, our friends know that one of them will have to go through what we are going through now. We are just reminders. But, I know you have friends that have lost their mates. My friends are the people who steer me through this journey. I am of the age that I have so many friends I have met in all my years on this earth, unfortunately there are many of us widows. Like I have said so many times on here, they tell me it gets easier, now they do not say it gets better, just maybe the pain is easier to bear. I believe these people. I do not look forward to good times again. My "good times" up and went. I just expect to live my life until the end. In the meantime, I hope I can make my passing, the afterwards part, the business part, I just have to plan it, because "I'm the one who is left." I have to make plans that my children will not be bothered with. And for faith. I'm still searching. Yes, I still have some anger with God. But my faith was something that carried me through lots of bad times. I need it now. It works for me. It does not for all people. It is part of my life and has always been. I know we all wish you some peace. These are not peaceful times for any of us. I know the pain your going through.. We all hurt, men and women. You just voice your pain and someone is here to help. We cannot heal, we cannot heal ourselves. We all just trudge along and look for something. If you go to Marty's posts, she has many self-help sites we go to for our extreme pain. Just keep reading and writing. A bunch of good people.

There are probably a lot more southern sayings where that came from. In the town where I was raised we never said "egg," it was always "aig." Leg was laig. My aunts were ants, and the town I was raised in was called Spranghill instead of Springhill. Can't take the small town out of the girl. My mom grew up on the banks of Bodcau "creek" and I never knew they were bayous until I was a teenager. I'm going back home.

I know a lot of times my family gets in my way, but I have got to say, I am so happy to have them. I know they depend on me and I will have to try to wean them off, but I do have family and lots of friends that were former neighbors, classmates, coworkers, cousins, just friends for life. I have lost the most important person in my life, but he said the one left must stay. Gotta do that and count my blessings while I can. I know how hard it must be on everyone. I am so sorry. I should not even complain. But, I do miss him so much. I am a selfish person, I'm afraid.

We had bought the new RV last March. We did not know he was sick. We were leaving Arkansas. We were going to stay a while in Louisiana, our home state, to help take care of my mom. She will be 95 in June. I do think she will outlive us all. She has Alzheimer's and is a two year old now, not potty trained yet. Actually, she is a much nicer person than the one I grew up with. Yep, broke a commandment right there. Louisiana was and still is home. Cost of living is fine. I will rent an apartment and carry this note too. And, everyone is aghast at me, no, I don't want anything for it. I just want away. I don't care if I could get money for it, I don't want to wait, I just want away. No, I will not regret it later on. I will be where we were born, grew up, graduated, married, and all the rest. We moved when we gave up RVing after retirement to get our son to a small art town so he could get off drugs. That was a success, so do not regret that. I have the feeling that my choices in Arkansas was what killed him. I should have known. He was so consumed with cancer it only took five weeks. He also had a brain aneurysm. He was going to twice yearly checkups. They let him fall through the cracks, and so did I.. I have typed discharge summaries, H&P's, operations, clinics and every symptom imaginable to man for 43 years and I could not see something was wrong with my own husband. Oh, what the heck, every time I write this crap I just beat the heck out of myself. I think somewhere down the line I will quit. So will you. And, you will decide where you want to go. I have been living back in Louisiana and that is where all my former coworkers, classmates, and friends live and 95% of them are widows so I listen to them a lot. They tell me it will get easier. Not better, but easier. They are good Christian ladies, I don't think they would lie to me.

@TerriL: You know me. I want to head for the motel in the middle of Texas and hide. I don't have to make sense anymore. Grief and age too, you know.

Isn't it strange how different everyone is. I understand you 100%. Billy did not die in our bed, or it would be gone. But he died (and I hate that word) in the state of Arkansas, the state we fell in love with, the beautiful rivers, streams, giant hills, the colors, the roads that we walked and never saw a car. The things we loved. Now, I have to get rid of those things. WE loved them. I have to get rid of reminders, but of course I cannot get rid of my kids or grandkids. Life is a mess of contradictions for us. What gives one comfort terrorizes the other. I understand. I wish I didn't.

I talk to Billy everytime I am alone, which is only when I get in my truck and go over to babysit my mother. I talk to him at redlights, in the middle of town, getting out of my truck anywhere. I say things like "Billy, you would not like this." And I will be saying that sentence in the apartment I move to. But if he had not left me, I would not be moving into one. I do that for myself. I can no longer do anything for him, but love him the rest of my short life.

And, I have shared this before. We can identify with the second one. We all can identify with that. That is one thing we all can share.

I have put this on here before. I must be entering my second childhood, because it spoke to me. In my childish imagination, I feel Billy wants to talk to me. I imagine I hear his voice sometimes, perhaps I do, I do not want to even think I don't. We are all doubting Thomas's at one time or another. My faith is not yours. Your doubt is really part of mine, so I cannot deny that. I have not had a Revelation. I don't read the book of Revelation in the Bible because it scares the bewillies out of me. And, as my daughter shuttered, I hate waterbugs. Well, these water bugs are little bugs that live in water, not the big black kind Billy used to shoot off the wall of his tiny shotgun house in the tiny town he lived in. (With a BB gun). No bathroom. He slept in the kitchen. He did not have a bathroom until after we were married. I miss Billy the Kid so much. I do want the faith of a child. This is my faith, not pushed on anyone else. But, I can share mine. From ‘Waterbugs and Dragonflies’ by Doris Stickney. Down below the surface of a quiet pond lived a little colony of waterbugs. They were a happy colony, living on the bottom of the pond far away from the sun. They did notice that every once in a while, one of their colony would suddenly climb up the stem of a water-lily and disappear from sight. “That’s funny! Where do you suppose she went? Wasn’t she happy here?” No-one had an answer; they were greatly puzzled. One waterbug had an idea. “The next one of us who climbs up the lily stalk must promise to come back and tell us where he or she went and why.” “We promise,” they said solemnly. One Spring day, the very waterbug who had suggested the plan found himself climbing up the lily stalk. He broke through the surface of the water and fell onto a broad, green lily pad above. He couldn’t believe what he saw; a startling change had come over his old body. His movement revealed four silver wings and a long tail; he had become a dragonfly. Swooping and dipping in great curves, he flew through the air. By and by he lighted on a lily pad to rest and chanced to see his old friends, the waterbugs, far below him. He remembered his promise. Without thinking, he darted down and hit the surface of the water and bounced away. Now he was a dragonfly, he could no longer go into the water. “I can’t go back,” he said in dismay, “but even if I could, the waterbugs would never recognise me in my new body. I’ll just have to wait until they become dragonflies too and then they’ll understand what happened to me.” The dragonfly winged off happily into his wonderful new world of sun and air. a time to weep and a time to laugh “To everything there is a season and a time for every purpose under heaven Ecclesiastes 3:1,7,8 a time to mourn and a time to dance”

Our last words resonate forever. Mine were anger for his beautiful hands held out to me in submission. He was giving up. He knew he had to. I was angry. That was not the miracle he had helped me with, it was not fair to me..............but, in the end it was not fair to him. I have to forgive myself. I hope one day I can. I know you feel the same way. When I woke up next to his bed, leaning on it, he was gone. No!!!!!!!!!!!!! It could not have happened, this was not my miracle. So, I got angry with God for allowing people to be so callous they would take God out of the chapels at the state hospitals and turn Methodist ministers into everyman's minister, how could they do this. I had rather put out a cup and beg on the corner of Market Street, Broadway, Rodeo Drive. Becoming everyman's minister, every religion's minister took my anger too. It was like the doctor's taking the oath to do no harm, what a joke. Yep, I am still bitter, angry, guilty. Spring is coming on. Summer will soon be here. Maybe the ice around our hearts will melt some. My friends swear it will be easier. They are all good Christian ladies, surely they would not lie to me. I slept in our bed last night for the first time in a month. No dreams, no nightmares. Slept from about 1:00 a.m. till 9:00 a.m. I'll take that.

Billy and I traveled these back roads in Arkansas taking October pictures. I am surprised I can go back and look. A week ago I couldn't. One of Billy's hobbies was photography. He had shopped and shopped for his last camera. It had to be bigger and better than the rest. He only used it once or twice before he got sick. This is the ledge that runs behind our house. I don't know if I can put this picture on here. October 2014. I want to erase October 2015.

Well, yesterday I tried pulling up my diabetic socks in the hospital and showed some leg. No one was interested. (I don't have diabetes, like the socks.).Really folks, when someone asks you a stupid question, ask them "why do you want to know." OMG I am glad I am old. No one expects anything out of me, which is good, I don't get any wise remarks from anyone. Well, one of my widow friends told me to get busy and finish my house to put on the market. So, I came home and relatives moved in, then I moved out and did what I do best.......hide.

Dear Corgigurl: I know this is said everytime, but welcome to this club none of us wanted to join. I had 10 more years than you, but it does not matter if it was six months or 100 years, we have lost a part of ourselves that cannot be replaced. We don't want to go on living either, and from the first, everyone told me to flush down Billy's 50 morphine pills that are left. I won't do anything though. At first I made a stupid plan to drive down one of these forest roads, take the pills with me and walk way out in the woods. I did not want my kids to see my face, the death mask that we cannot get out of our mind. I thought I had months left with Billy, but I woke up leaning on his hospital bed and it was all too much for his body to handle. You can read my guilt trip somewhere else, I just won't think of it tonight. What I do want to say, is we are all going down the same path. Some of us have such terrible anger with God, and some of us had rather leave him out of the equation. An example, today the minister came to see my Alzheimer's mother. My daughter had her in the bathroom, trying to clean her up. The minister left and reported he could not get anyone to come to the door. Well, of course not, my daughter was cleaning up her grandmother. This is hospice care and if they cannot get in touch with anyone they report it. My daughter is a spitfire anyhow. She let him know how the cow ate cabbage. She told him just to quit coming, my mama is nearly 95 and does not even know he is there. My daughter said, "quit coming, I'm an atheist." She is not an atheist, but she was angry at him and sometimes we get angry with God. Some of us don't want to enter God into their grief. Some believe, some don't. We just find our faith where we can. We find our solace where we can. I am still searching for mine and will not be on any straight path until I find it. That is just me. I will discuss it, but others don't want to. It does not help them. It helps me. It does not bring Billy back. Nothing will. Yours is November. Mine is October. I will hate autumn the rest of my short natural life. All I can do is wish you some remnant of peace. People try, but no one knows what to say. Because of my age, I have many, many former coworkers and classmates that have walked this path. They tell me it will get easier, but like you, I just wish I could talk to him once more. Some things I want to tell him I am sorry about. But, that man, forgave me some really bad things that I did. I forgave him a time or two also. I have dreamed and he was in them. I also have reached on his side of the bed and the bellyflop feeling when he is not there. I used to say "your gone and will never come back." My friend, who lost her husband in December of 2014, told me emphatically to never do that again. To reach over on his side of the bed and tell him how much you love him and he will be with you always. I started doing that and just that one small thing made me feel better. Signing his name between my first and last name makes me feel better too. I will never leave his name off a gift or card because it was his money also that helped buy it. I'm sorry. I seem to say the same things over and over again. And, your memory will not be great either, so remember to put your glasses, keys, and things you have to use back in the same old place each time you have to put them down. Losing things makes me go into a tizzy. I will shut-up now. Anyhow, we are here and we all hurt. Misery does not love company, but you have it with us anyhow. I wish you peace. '

We are back in Arkansas: Well, we made it. My granddaughter came with me. Have not had a slow moment yet. Came home to pay bills and get some things straight. Was good to see my son. He has my temperament but he is his dad's son. You sometimes think about how much you hurt, but then Billy was his son and his daughter's idol, servant, and Scott said there was no man he was afraid of except his dad. Now, Billy never was mean to those kids, ever, but he meant he respected him that much. And, it was not the fear my daddy whipped into me. It was true respect. And my granddaughter, Billy was her first Nanny, and she lived with us 15 years. She was his heart. He was her "Dade", and her granddaddy. He home schooled her and we took care of her every need. She lost a double dose of love. I hurt, but so do they. I have not slept in our bed in a month, don't know how that is going to go. Went to see Hettie to let her know we were here. She is my sister widow neighbor. Two days traveling and three days to take care of business. March will be spent in Louisiana. In April, the house will be on the market. Too many doctor visits for family in March (in Louisiana), and hopefully none of them mine. I will honestly be glad to have an apartment. I hate keeping up a house. One man's trash is another man's treasure. I understand. To my mom, her house was her castle. My neighbor is like that too. We just never were homesteaders, but the majority of my friends are. We were odd man out. (I'm sorry, I have not taken time to read the forum yet since I got here.) Have to get settled. I miss Billy terribly, but the sadness and crying have not hit me yet. But then, I have not gone to bed.

We do understand the safe haven and now we all are cast in a horrible Mad Max landscpe. That is why we are here....we understand.. Even this crazy redneck ggrandmother understands. I cannot swim, but I am dogpaddling as fast as I can. Fixing to drive those 175 miles to de house.

I can forgive other people, so can you, the thing we all cannot forgive is ourselves. Maybe that is what all my widow friends mean when they say it gets easier. Maybe we learn to forgive ourselves. That is one thing my being older has over the younger ones. My classmates of over 50 years ago, my working friends of 43 years, so many have already walked this path. I have to believe their experience might help me on my shorter journey. Nothing will ever be the same. Anything with the year 2015 has to be avoided. My favorite season of autumn will be avoided. But living cannot be avoided. The one left must stay.

Billy's illness was such a surprise, so aggressive, so fast, he went from cane, to walker, to wheelchair so fast and for such a short dignity robbing time that I think he saw there was no future, and in those five short weeks he could not talk to me. My telling him I could not live without him, we were going to have a miracle robbed us of talking. What idiot robs the final curtain with anger? Me.

Good advice

Karen, you have reasons to do just about anything. You have lost your mate and a child. I cannot imagine the pain. I don't even want to imagine it. As far the being irresponsible, I am about ready to try a little irresponsibility, I am so tired of being responsible. Heck, as a teenager, back in the days of night clubs like the Whisk-A-Go-Go, I wanted to dance in those cages with white go-go boots on and not much else. I could have pulled it off as a teenager, but I bet I would make more money now. My poor deacon daddy would have had to resign back then.

Back in "the day" people did not go to psychiatrists. Yet, over time my sister studying psycology was able to label my mom as borderline personality disorder. I had already labeled her a bunch of non-psychiatric terms. Yes, I was disrespectful, but not to her face. I had already seen her deck my gentleman dad three times. We would respectfully say Mama was exaggerating when she was lying. My two kids are bipolar and I am sure my dad was also. What I got from this gene pool was chronic depression diagnosed after15 years of psychotherapy. Somewhere along the way they found out I had a Factor IX blood deficiency which I did pass down to my daughter, but I have always been asymptomatic. Daughter has problems, but it stops with us. (Queen Victoria's blood disorder that caused so much hemophilia in her decendents). I love genealogy and Billy was going to drive me to all these little lost cemeteries around our deep roots in North Louisiana. As soon as I can get moved, I will continue this. It takes hours of your time and I love it. It is like time travel. My faith, lack of faith, search for faith is a big part of my journey and I hope it provides me with some peace. That is my journey though. I know what "I" have to do. But I am southern, always have been. Not a member of the KKK, never have been, or any of' my relatives. Not sure what a redneck is, but I probably am one. I come from the hippy generation, but my friends who lost their life in the Vietnam war did not deserve being spit on and ostracized, (sp?) That is about as political as I get. I sometimes will have ideas different from yours, but t grieve just as hard. Billy was my mighty protector and I am totally lost without him. I do know I cannot do what "we" were going to do. I am looking for nothing but peace. I don't want solitude, just peace that passes all understanding. If I seem odd, or "off" to some of you, maybe I am. At my age, I have no one to blame but me. I enjoyed making Billy laugh, and my friends all know I have a few loose screws, but I hope I do not put any of you in a bad mood or hurt your feelings. We do all have cultural differences. These are mine. I did finish high school, two business colleges, two years of college, but honestly, my intellect left when Billy left. Ain't nothing left. Anyhow, this is my "different" culture.

At HH and the rest. When I was in the hospital last, my nurses were wonderful. I had to write a letter to the administrator and tell how wonderful and sent a copy to the floor and a thank you card. Not a bad apple in the bunch. Billy's nurses were wonderful too. Having worked 11 pm to 7 am for seven years myself, I knew once I got home I was too hyper to sleep. Those girls were pulling 12 hour shifts and more. Their secret??? Dramamine. OTC. No addiction. I will admit, the Xanax is good for 4-5 hours. But, then I take one or two Dramamine and sleep till 8:00. Most people do not want a crutch. Then I think about my terminally ill daddy, scared he would get hooked on pain pills. Not everything is black or white. What works for one won't work for another. Indeed, "one size does not fit all. They gave me Ambien, supposed to be strong. I woke every time after two hours. One man's trash is another man's gold. Just my humble opinion. One incident in the 1970's. I tried my Mogan David wine (gotta be sweet) to calm me down. Usually a half wine glass did it. Must have been really wound up because it took a bunch of glasses. I was not relaxed, I was just plain drunk. Billy was so disgusted. I didn't care.

Eventually I have to learn to take care of myself. Eventually I have to learn that "No" is a complete sentence. In that big house there are so many relatives that want to take care of me that I cannot afford to cook all the meals, pay all the bills, and provide for so many. I was not old, and certainly not feeble until Billy left. I just hope I have the wherewither to do what I have to do and quit being the enablers that Billy and I both were for so many years. I never really thought about Billy dying. It was going to be me. I just have the feeling now that time is of the essence, no time like the present. I feel the need to do something now. Billy had told me years ago that if I died all my problems would be over and the pain and suffering would be on the one that was left. I did not expect to be the one that was left. Decisions are hard for the one left. My children are older than some of your partners that you have lost. I don't know if I feel good because I have so little time, or just plain overpowered.