Margm

This pandemic has the whole world in a hold pattern. I can't get over the young man (middle aged actually) setting up a small gathering for his elderly parents and the great grandfather wanting to see his great grandkids. With 24 out of 28 having the Covid and the poor man's mom and dad both passing. The great grandfather passing also. I cannot find my aunt's grave because of all the new graves. The unanswerable questions of how, why, when, what have left us all in a depression. We just have to live until we can't. Nothing we can do.

I don't like to drive after dark. I really get scared. This started right after Billy left, so has been going on for over five years. I cannot see as good with the headlights coming toward me. I had two things to get at Walmart. I had let the time slip up on me and needed my headlights because it was dusk. I stopped the car, turned off my headlights and had a frantic moment. Car would not give me my keys, motor would not turn on at all and I was frantic. I saw two younger people and explained my problem. The young woman got in the car, took it out of neutral, put it in park and of course it started. I had lost my reasoning in a panic attack of my own doing. It was getting dark and I was scared. I was not thinking. They were so sweet to me. They did not make me feel like an old fool. (I was). With me anxiety is like swimming. I can't because I will get anxiety and drown. That is how I live too, I get anxiety and I drown. I might say, I did not take a Xanax, but I did get out of breath with my mask and Walmart making us go in the far door. I did remember (sometimes I forget) to look at my parking aisle number. I have a gray car and it looks like every gray car parked in the parking lot. (All of them).

Somehow or other, moving from that quiet house in the little coves and hills where nothing was heard but the sound of birds and maybe little animals, moving into an apartment house where there is a big wall across from the apartments, there is some kind of dog that barks constantly (I have not seen him, but he sounds big), not too much children's noises right now. Somehow hearing the noises I did not hear, hearing people getting up to go to work and maybe sitting with a cup of coffee out on their patio, where they cannot be seen, but are heard, just somehow that made me believe in life again. Billy had left me in that huge house, on that beautiful lonesome street, and the quiet was louder than anything I had ever heard. It was good when it was me and him and various family members at one time or the other. I fed the birds, the squirrels, we would identify any new birds and here I am. I have the biggest patio of any of the apartments. I've never been out on it. I cannot feed the birds anymore, that was mine and Billy's hobby, I do not want an only one hobby. I do hear life though. I didn't hear it after he left me. We are all so different, yet we are all the same. We miss someone so terribly we sometimes hide from life. I know I do. I need to be out walking with my trekking sticks. I know I cannot go far, but maybe a little further ever so often, so, why won't I do it? I don't need to dig this hole any deeper..

I have put myself into self hypnosis, I guess, once in my lifetime. It was back when we had cassette tapes and I had a set that was sold at my university hospital library, at the hospital I worked for. Cancer's uncertainty, my life's uncertainty drove me into anxiety attacks where I actually did leave a shopping cart full of groceries in a waiting line at Krogers and fled to my car, to home. I had to go to a psychiatrist, but the most helpful were those three cassette meditations. I actually could float on that cool soft cloud, and I felt it. When Billy passed I tried all meditation. (plus pills). That was when I had the plugs in my ears, had fallen asleep to the meditation, and my family could not make me answer phones (I could not hear them) so they (police) were fixing to knock down my door, ambulance waiting. Don't know what is wrong now but even with medication that has worked for five years I get the "heebie jeebies" (what I call them) around daylight. And no, I have not slept. I read. Medication did not take ahold. I was hearing people talking (we have balconies for each apartment), the outside is lighted with enough light you would think it was daylight. Each corner off the apartments have motion lights. So, last night I went back to the earbuds. First time since the police scare. I kept having to change meditation sounds. Some aggravated me but the soft guitar sounds had me asleep in no time. During the night I knocked them off. Perhaps I will try Marty's suggestions. We are very safe in a low/no crime area and tight locked windows with shrubs in front that would hurt anyone that tried windows. Balcony door protected. Hope it is just a phase. Billy did not have a bit of imagination or supernatural belief about him. I did. I think he took mine with him when he left. Addendum: I go back and reread my posts and I am tending to repeat myself often. Just ignore. I remember my little Mammaw used to repeat herself so often and her daughters would fuss at her. I didn't want them to fuss at her. I am my grandmother's granddaughter.

We know how much our mates are missed. I could not understand why this #5 was any worse than the others but my son is just now coming out of his deep depression. I hope. Every holiday and important date just tears whatever scar tissue we have built up. I was wondering last night. I am a Christian and Heaven is a great mystery. I looked up at the blue sky with clouds and I wondered out loud to Jesus and to Billy, do they know and do they care how much we hurt. I have no answers, just continual pain in my heart from missing him and his wonderful job of being the best dad any kid could want. My heart is with you today, and every day.

Kay, I had carpal tunnel surgery years ago on my right hand. Might just be me, but my thumb and first finger stay sore and weak. So many things wrong with me anyhow, I'm not gonna check on it and just chalk it up to arthritis from the surgery so long ago, Typing all those years made me have it in both wrists, worse in my right. Now my left never bothers me but the pads on my fingers from all those years typing have lost most of the feeling. Minor problem unless you drop a pill and have to pick it up. Carpal tunnel surgery was not bad.. Our head ortho doc at the teaching hospital did it. I was awake and heard him say "wonder if we could cut a little further" and I said "NO!!!!" and he and my resident surgeon got tickled.

And Marty, I glow at 100 watts most of the time. I'll bet your dad was a gentleman. Mine was from the kind of standoffish generation and was very much a gentleman. More so than Billy, but Billy beat my dad at daddying. Different generations.

Karen, we loved visiting Arizona and NM. But, we stayed mostly on the eastern mountainous, tree covered slopes. We did spend some time in Tucson and loved it. I think Flagstaff and Sedona and most all of Arizona is beautiful. We had never traveled so far until 1969, and after a few days in Albuquerque and traversing Texas, we all were so happy to see the pine trees and swampy land of home. It's what you get used to. I love to sweat, but I think Marty's dad had a much nicer name for perspiration. Brianna was just fussing because it is gonna be in the 80's tomorrow. She has to go to doc and said she was wearing a hooded sweatshirt anyhow.

He was gone the next morning early.

They bring up "memories" on FB and five years ago today this is what I put. I will not rehash it again on FB, but I think we understand. October 16, 2015, this was my memory. Getting ready for another trip to Hot Springs, Genesis. Lots of things wrong, not too much works. He fell last night going to bathroom. Getting rid of the Megace. Changes disposition and level of consciousness. Will let you know how it comes out. Billy is a private person. Not sure he wants his medical records put on FB. In fact, I know he does not. So, this is for me and prayers for my stubbornness.

Gwen, he was a great man. That comes from the minds of those he left behind. Your mother lost two great men and she was stronger than I am. I don't think I could go through this after 54 years. Besides, Billy would somehow manifest himself and take the other guy out the door.

I have repeated this so many times. Sorry if it might hit some hard. My grandma had a country store. A visitor struck up a conversation. Sometimes she would not see more than 4-5 people, sometimes a lot. Way out in the country. The city mouse said to the little country mouse, when asked how long her husband had been gone, and she said "19 years," well, she said that she had had plenty of time to "get over him." After she left, my grandma, who was writing her memories, wrote "it seems like yesterday." I was sitting on the front porch the day of my grandfather's death, I was 12-years-old. He was the type of grandfather that let each grandchild know they were his favorite. My grandmother's brother walked up to her and she had married at 15, he was 27. She started naming off the people she had lost in this one man. It was a love story. And all of ours were love stories. And we will love them as long as we live. I am sorry for your loss. Your in a good forum. We understand. Cannot cure, but we can keep time with the hymns.

My dear "K": I joined after my husband had been gone three days. The thing I wanted to do (follow him) would have done more damage to people I loved, so I toughed it out. I'm not patting myself on the back. I was Jello nailed to a tree. I screamed (when I was alone) into pillows. I'm no spring chicken. I only tried that twice. It hurt my head strangely very much. I cried until out of breath, and that sensation was something that was comforting, not scary at all, just drifting off without breath. But I couldn't do that, no more than the plan of following him directly afterward. I felt like an animal that wants to go off, way off and just die in peace with no one finding me. Day after tomorrow, the 17th, will be five years. We all take grief different. My son does like I do. Builds a semi-wall that no one touches.. My daughter (these are middle aged "kids" wants everything close to her of her dad's, his clothes, his...........anything that he owned. We are not rich people. I slept in that house without him for a few nights. That was 2,000 sq feet of the loudest quiet I had ever been in. We had planned on moving and did not have a sign up. I gave the house away. You cannot imagine the beauty of the hills and valleys in the little cove of homes fixed so we did not even have to see each other's home. The national forest behind us. beautiul flowers, trees, wildlife all around. We both had combined retirement. Your not supposed to do this, but I moved. Five years later I have probably 15 of the big plastic storage buckets with tops that every time I open one, Billy is right there. So, I don't open them. I live back in the surroundings we lived before we retired. We were born here, kids born here, school completed by all here. All my relatives are here, and his too. They all have stones with their names on them, but it is as close to "home" as I can get without him. He would never live in an apartment. I do. My friends would not leave their homes at all. I don't have to worry about fixing anything. (But me) and helping my family. What works for one person will not work for another. I described living in paradise. The deputy sheriff lived at the end of our street. No crime. Do I miss it? Not one little tiny bit. I miss Billy. Welcome (that is a terrible word) but you are among friends. You are among people who have been through this longer than even I have. We still hurt. Rose Kennedy said the wound never healed, we develop scar tissue. I might agree with that. Don't try to be strong. We all walk a different path. If I feel like crying in Walmart, I do. I think the main thing is, it is your path, you have well meaning friends and relatives. You do not have to answer to any of them or even answer them period. It is ill mannered to turn around and walk off, but you know what? Sometimes it is exhilarating. I am sincerely sorry for your loss, and as old as I am, I have said that way too often lately.

My family, my church, my friends, for years none of this changed. I was comfortable, except with my mom. Everyone knew things were different and then she lost all her family that her life revolved around feuds with, my dad was gone, my sister and I both told her we were not her sisters, we refused to involve ourselves in her feuds. She found a friend who would carry on fusses with but she passed away. I had to come back "home" to begin to understand her. Not sure I ever will, but I've made peace with her and my dad, who was the ruling King of our family (when Mama let him.) Like Dylan Thomas said "Do not go gentle into that good night" we sometimes wish and hope for a gentle trip, not raging against it. Mama's Alzheimer's raged, just like she did all her days. I have no real questions and certainly no answers.

I am humbled by your loss Karen. Like my friend told me because I was crying at a classmate's death. "We are at the age we are going to lose our friends." We are. We did not figure in COVID.

Maybe this pandemic has turned us agoraphobic. I don't even like to ride my country roads anymore.

I have not read everything. I have been going through a depression, not as bad as some but still one that scares me. I have wondered why Billy was taken first, he was the wisest, strongest, most sensible, and calmest. Of course I know he had bad things and we had got past them. We had weathered my illnesses, which were quite serious, the last one that will hang over my head until I am gone, nothing anyone can do. I feel like Billy wanted the new RV because it had just been a year since the colon rupture into all my lower organs, female included, and the pain was lingering, still does, but I can still function. I think he was preparing. I just didn't think. Then I figure I must be here because I need more working on in other ways. I'm not any nicer. I just want to be able to help. I will try to tell this without too much identification. My friends from years ago were having an anniversary party given by one of their children. Many years. Very elderly. One 90-year-old close to my family (was not ill, just old), he passed away first. Then the anniversary wife passed five days ago, today her husband passed. Out of 28 people, 24 came down with the COVID. Main problem, elderly. When I went to find my aunt's grave, our small town cemetery looked like a flower garden. I could not find her resting place and will go in spring. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. (Robert Frost) naturally.

We (some friends/relatives) had plans to go have dinner someplace awhile back and now you seem to think "what friends?" They don't want to do that any more than you do. No one wants to get out among people except when absolutely necessary. The strange thing is, when asked to go out you thought "oh, I don't want the bother." Human nature.

I just told Kay by email this quote: “Everybody has got to die, but I have always believed an exception would be made in my case.” ― William Saroyan I think seeing my aunt give up on life had a more profound effect than Billy's passing. I don't miss her as much, but to a new family starting out, the only grandchild, only niece for many years, my aunt was not just my aunt, she was like a sister. We grew up together. You think 84 is a good age to die. Well, I know and you know we have lost them way before 84 years old, but she was not just an aunt, we were sisters, even though not close since marriage. The last time I saw her in spring she told me "Margaret, I've always loved you and I always will." Then Covid came and she started shutting herself off from everyone. She has lost so much, the natural order of things. She was very hard to get along with and I think came up against an immovable object that moved next door in her sister's house. She could not run this person off like she did her daughter's husband. She was a very hard to get along with person, but to me it was "just her" and I accepted it and knew she was not really bad. She was beautiful in c countenance but personality-wise, not so much. Billy didn't give up. I was angry at him for giving up but it was all of a sudden, like a heart attack, and he could do nothing, but when someone quits eating, quits living, just because they want to, it is a type of suicide that hits you hard, and I know we have all been hit hard. On my little riding trip I tried to find her grave. There were so many new graves I could not stay and search. I knew I had to leave. And, it has thrown me into the depression I used to have, and there is no getting out of it but to quit digging the hole. My son has my temperament and he tried going back to the city we left. He had money to stay in the nicest place this time, but because of the Covid, places were shut down and the next morning he was knocking on my door. I understood. Sometimes you really "can't go home again." "Home" has many meanings after we lose what amounts to our reason for living. Now I am afraid I might not live long enough to help my granddaughter and this Covid is not helping. The 17th, Billy will be gone five years. In my "memories" on FB was a picture of him visited by his nephews two days before he passed away. Billy never was "bedridden" and though it got to the wheelchair stage very fast, even that didn't last long. In the picture his eyes are very sick looking and red and it just tore me up to see him like that again. And still, five years later, when I go to open one of the storage boxes my granddaughter hates, I open it up and there he is and I just silently close it and walk away. I don't think I can do it. I know my aunt had all of her affairs in order. My kids know where to find my "affairs" but I want to pick out the stone, I want to put a stone for his brother and sister. Her little concrete block with her name on it has silt covering it and no relatives nearby. Billy's mom would not have any of the other family buried in that cemetery. I want to buy a stone that just sits enough above ground that it will never be covered by silt. I didn't know her, "Jessie Nell" but Billy's brother was 11 years old when she passed away on her first day of school to one of the deadly childhood diseases in 1939. I want a stone with sister on one side and brother on the other side (to put Billy's brother's ashes along beside her. I know she and he are not there, but I want to be. It is something I've not completed yet, or our stone either. I still have reason to live. I'm not real happy doing anything, but I have things I hope I live long enough to complete. We are not promised another day, and I know my aunt had everything taken care of before she essentially gave up on life. I am very depressed, and chronic depression is the only diagnosis they could make after 15 years of therapy, so I accept that. This COVID is holding us back so much. When I went for my six month visit, the little town was really just shut down. This COVID still astounds me, but I wear my mask every time I go out, change clothes and shower when I come in. Both my kids have had it. Both just slept it off, Kelli has bronchitis now, but she has it once or twice a year and we have to watch her platelets . She is a nurse and I do trust her to take care of herself. I do feel guilt for her inheriting the blood disorder from me, but she fights it and it has never bothered me. I just carry the gene. I have no more reason to be depressed than anyone else. I can handle the pain and "disability" that goes along with it and knowing there is nothing they can do, I live with it. It is what it is. I'll quit digging the hole.

Do the thing you think you cannot do: “You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.” (Eleanor Roosevelt). I don't like political labels, but one of my post on FB came back to watch out for democrats with guns. Okay, we have killer bees, murderous hornets, now poisonous caterpillars, COVID, and all I want to do is go to Walmart. I am not feeling strong and unafraid. I'm feeling vulnerable. Walmart is almost a mile away. I would say "be safe" my friends, but we do what we gotta do. Kay, I know your teasing, but your still pretty with your bruise, just don't try the dating places anyhow. Might get a hold of someone that likes bruising.

Kay, I'm just glad you were not in your car. Right now, if it was not for bad luck, you'd have no luck at all. My heart is with you.

Kay, we can only wait, I'm so sorry.

My sister has always relied on melatonin. They have them in gummies too. I could not take it because it caused nightmares. Does not do everyone that way. It is over the counter too. The meditation apps are actually good. Your frame of mind will have to decide if they are good for you. It seems on 2-3, maybe more, there is a man or woman who will say something that just aggravates me so much I quit listening. They say something like "now isn't that correct" or, "now what do you think of this" and the timbre of their voice will throw off any relaxation I have settled into and I'm wanting to find that person and fight them. You, of course, know I reached for anything the few nights after Billy left. Imagine me, hair stuck out everywhere (I have a habit of running my hands through my hair when I am reading, when I am trying to go to sleep. I think I hear someone at the front door. I unstick the soft ear buds, look out the window, it is past 2:00 a.m., I go to the door just before they knock it down. Three police cars, lights flashing, one ambulance, lights flashing, at least three people standing at my door, me with ear buds hanging down my neck. My gosh, I could not hear my cell phone, could not hear the house phone, I'm so sorry small town police force, ambulance from just down the road, I'm trying to control my emotions. (My sister, my daughter, my son, they were all scared because I could not hear my phone.) This was before Covid and I would be asleep before midnight. Now, I could use the meditation apps but those irritating phrases just make it where I can't. I honestly could (when I had cancer) concentrate so much on the tapes (a long time ago, cassette tapes) I remember the cool breeze and floating on the soft, moist, white cloud over the far off island's blue lagoon. I really could. You know I was not in my right mind, on a cloud over a blue lagoon, and I cannot swim.

Karen, I was talking about over the counter Tylenol PM. My shrink told me as far as she knew it would be okay to take it forever. You can get the acetaminophen PM generic. No scripts.

Karen, I'm sorry, I have not been following as close as I should have been. I don't know what you've tried and not tried. For years, the Tylenol PM did me good. I took two a night. The liquid PM solution seems to do Brianna good. Well, maybe not that good, but she is afraid of pills. She is hypothyroid, and she does take those pills. But, of course, not to sleep. Since Billy has been gone, I need my sleep. One time I got a little over tired, was out for quite awhile, and the next morning my meds were still in my med cup. I take a baby aspirin even though I have the Factor IX in my blood and am not supposed to take aspirins. Also, they tend to (can we think up a nice word for constipate?), anyhow, no more than I take, they have not done that. My classmate just passed away from a stroke, and I guess we have to go someway, some how, some time. I always wondered why I was not the one taken, but maybe there is something I have to do. I certainly know of a few things. I think of my aunt who passed away a couple off weeks ago, and she had everything in order, in writing, and was insistent this was what she wanted. She may have weighed between 60-80 pounds, but she always wanted to be skinny. She was ready. This has nothing to do with ways to go to sleep, but on and on I go. I'll stop.