Margm

I'm not feeling good about the "hell" part of this because he is waiting for me in Heaven (even if his old girlfriends did beat me there). He was just two years older than this when we married and this is his last birthday cake before we lost him in October. He will always be 75. He will always be 18, he will always be ageless. We miss him, I miss him terribly, especially after that nanosecond that I don't wake him up each morning. I think that will go on the rest of my days.

No thanks needed. Your fur babies are your families. I don't have one, but I have a half-human grand-fur-baby. In fact, I would like to see more humans be as "human" as Kelli's Nawlin's is. She is 10 years old and when Kelli shears her fur down to where most pups wear theirs, Nawlin's looks up to me like "see what she did, now please wrap me in a blanket." I talk about my kids, my grandkids, your fur babies are your family. We talk family here.

I'm sorry that you feel that others don't care Jim. I'm sure they still care. I think we are living in some other dimension in 2020, and I do not like to watch the kind of movies that have us living in a world that we do not know, but don't you feel that this is some other dimension, like a bad dream? One of my "acquaintances" this morning led off her speech on Facebook that this was all a political ploy (to what outcome, I sure don't understand). They had colon cancer written on Billy's death certificate, and I think it was liver cancer, but in the big picture, he is still gone and any other diagnosis would not bring him back. I'm not sure people are shying away from you because you lost Nancy. They are shying away from everyone. Both of my middle aged children are "down" with positive Covid diagnoses. They will be until the diagnosis comes back clear of Covid. I don't know how long that will take. People are fighting about wearing masks, that making us do this is taking away one of our "rights." Well, my son works at the VA Hospital, he and other medical care people come down with Covid in spite of masks (double), head gear, gloves and in some cases a hazmat suit. My kids have friends and relatives (including me) that leave things at their door. We knock and we wave. Maybe it is not "coldness" on the part of your friends. I know you miss Nancy. I am living among people that are relatives and lifelong friends, but we are all afraid to congregate together, no church, no restaurant eating. We order and we pick up on the outside if we order from a restaurant. My granddaughter and I sat through 12 years of watching "Bones" and I was so glad to get that show over with. I am more of a reader. The first few months, years, forever, that is the hardest. It is almost impossible to come to terms with. I actually made plans to "follow" Billy with no thoughts of anyone but myself being with the person I could not live without. I'm living. And, I've got to say this, one year, it might take 2-3 years, but one year you will notice that the seasons have changed. You will actually see the beauty of daffodils and spring flowers I do not know the names of, the Bradford pear tree will blossom in a white flourish, you will see the new fluorescent greens of new leaves after a world only seen as dead trees and dried dead leaves. You will see the different colors of the clover they plant along interstate highways, and somehow or other you will later on see the leaves of autumn turning colors. You won't feel as free and happy as you felt with Nancy by your side, but you can tell Nancy how pretty they are, and believe that Nancy sees them too. I still, after nearly five years talk to the night sky and Billy, especially when I can see the moon. They have not all left you, we are all just going through this year 2020 craziness that has touched all of us. My best to you my friend. I have a habit of writing something and then not submitting. When I go to look for it, I did not "submit" it. I'm sorry.

You post it where "your family" can read it. We are your family. You posted it where it belonged.

In July of 1981, I was sitting by the bedside of my little grandmother, who was in the morphine coma that supposedly helps with the pain of dying. She was restless and instead of heading off into the unknown with good memories or dreams, she was still laden down with guilt that "I couldn't be a wife to him." She kept murmuring this in her coma. Grandma married at 15. (She outlived him 25 years). She had read about the prince rescuing the princess on a white horse. (Those words were written in the "book" she left us family members), only he was on a brown and white horse. I've repeated all her illnesses she had, but while she was dying, she was feeling guilty about not being able to be a wife to him, and I knew she meant in the sexual sense of the words. I adored my grandfather. He was the kind that could tell you that you were his favorite grandchild, and you believed him. (As I am sure all 7-8 other ones felt the same). After he had passed on in 1956, I heard about all his "other women." You see, he had five daughters who "talked." I know Grandma knew also, but the cancer, radiation, surgery and having seven children in ten years had taken away her ability to be "a wife to him" in every sense of the word. And God bless her heart, she felt guilty all the rest of her life. It was all her fault, she thought. Less than a year later I was at M.D. Anderson with the same cancer my grandmother had had, only I had a more complicated double cancer. Actually treatment was the same as it had been that many years ago, but no surgery, they were afraid it would spread. You don't give hormones to female cancer patients. I had probably had a little too much "fun" and at 39, I was pretty much ready to be put out to pasture. Now, you marry "in sickness and in health" and after listening to my grandmother's dying words, I damn sure was not going to die of guilt because "life" had happened to me. I chalked it up as "I had a good time while it lasted, and I probably had more fun than was lawful" and I had had as much radiation as was humanly tolerated. They did not even like to do chest x-rays on me. I would like to say I put it all in God's hands, but I think God is a man. At any rate, how Billy handled things from there on was his business. By the wedding vows, it was mine too, but Grandma taught me something. My life was not going to end with the murmurs in a coma "I couldn't be a wife to him." I might be a lot of things, but having someone feel sorry for me because life happened, that is the last thing I want. To be a martyr, to me, is something I never wanted, but I wear it a lot easier than sympathy. And, I think if you write "Grace and Frankie" they might have a place you can order their toys, even for arthritic hands. As an addendum, I knew Kelli would have it, she cleaned Scott's room, sprayed the Lysol, cooked for him, cleaned the upstairs bathroom. She had 102 temp in doctor's office. They did the fast Covid test, but we all knew she had it. It comes on fast after you have been exposed. They gave her a Celestone shot. This morning at 2:00 a.m. I was her phone prisoner. Then she was writing that she never knew being sick felt so good. At 2:00 a.m. I was tired of talking but that shot ran on until about daylight. She is sleeping now, so is Scott. I wish I could go take care of both of them, but know I can't.

A tiny bit slower, I gingerly protect myself, but other than that they are still able to pick my behind up from sitting down. That takes strong............something.

Our house was in a Garden of Eden, no crime, circle/end of street, houses were in a valley, behind trees on a hill, but we were hidden away. I think 10 houses, all hidden. I spent a few nights without Billy. That was the loudest quiet I have ever heard. We were gypsies. We lived the longest in a house so the kids could start school, graduate same system, then we were ready to leave. (17 years). Had the lake house, which was tiny, so we built a bigger one. Our retirement home. RV in back.. We hopped in that 19 foot 5th wheel, sold the house, I think we burned clothes and furniture. The big stuff was in the city house, which we left and before we retired, we lived in four RV's traveling around to the parks until we retired. Then all hell broke loose and to save our son we got off the road. Things worked out good. Everybody wanted to buy our house. (I gave it away, as few papers to sign as I could get out of.) Got a new RV in March, Billy left in October. I make too much for a government apartment. Billy was smart, together we worked 80 years and had retirement and could live as good as if we were working. When he left, I did everything that he would not do. I moved into an apartment. No roofing, plumbing, A/C, heat, yard to mow to worry about. I cannot go back where we were. I came to where he was born, grew up, graduated and met a girl that lived about 30 miles or less away and she had been born, graduated, and started technical school in the town he lived in. The kids were born within 30 miles from here, graduated, and we all are back home, all but Billy, and I have as much of him as I could keep and sleep on pillows on the side of the bed, king sized ones, his regular clothes, his ever day clothes, they are on the side of the bed with me. But move into an apartment? That boy would never have done that. I did not do it to meet people, I make excuses (not while Covid is here) to keep from eating out and going places. I have friends and family close.. I want to live long enough to do a couple of things. I don't know if I will. If I don't, I won't worry about it. I'm as happy and as close to Billy as I can get in this world and my nanosecond of waking up and thinking he is still there, it just dissolves as soon as it is thought. There are prettier states. But I'm kin to most everyone that was born in these parts, both sides of ancestors founded it. Most are rooted in the soil around here. If it sounds wild, I feel the people. I have their genealogical history and my Grandma's book. It is not home, but it is as close as I can get without Billy. My friend/cousin has lived in the same house 50 years. She is not leaving. My other friend who lost two husbands since 2000, she lives in the house she bought after first husband passed. It floods there often. She won't leave. We all have reasons for going where we go or staying where we are. It will never be the same so we make do with how we are the most satisfied living without the one who mattered the most. We do the best we can with what we have left. Scott got sent home from work with high fever. He has Covid. Kelli is his nurse. Tonight Scott is temperature free but Kelli has 102. I take all the Lysol I can find, Lysol wipes, paper towels, everything required to keep them in the house, and I leave it at the door and knock. I'm a Mama. I want to take care of my kids. I don't care if they are 58 and 53. But I cannot go near them. They are handling it okay. Scott coughs and is hoarse, Kelli will sleep hers off. They actually take care of each other. But I'm a mama till I die. I tripped today and fell on my knees. Brianna got angry because I would not let her help me up. My knees were hurting. I had to sit it out until I could bend them good and then I got up. I pulled my little buggy full of garbage bags to the dumpster. No pain. They will be sore tomorrow, but I am okay. Nothing broken. Just imagine, if I was skinny, I would not have had any cushion to protect them.

Karen, this is a type of hurt that many experience and it is one that is unimaginable to form words of comfort. There are no words. I know this is weird, but you all know weird is what holds me together. I don't think they sell that glue in stores. Each morning, every morning (well, actually sometimes when I sleep till 2:00 p.m.) my first thought is to get out of bed easy so as not to wake Billy up. Then, I remember, he is not there, but for a nanosecond in my mind he was. So each day I have that second with him. For losing a child, I have no words and am selfish enough to hope I go before that happens. My dad was 65 when he passed. My Mammaw, his mom, was 83 or 84. After Daddy left, we never had Mammaw again either. Her little mind left. I understand. We love you Karen. Our hearts are with you.

I love you two women, I admire you two women, but I'm not sure I want to finish everything I start. Of course cooking, unfortunately I have to finish. After almost five years, I am getting to where I am curious as to what is in those 15 boxes that have not been opened in over four years. I certainly have not needed anything. I do start things and 2-3 days, weeks go by and I might remember "I should finish that now" and then I think, "oh heck no, I want to raid the refrigerator." I'm sorry, I don't feel guilty, I just plain am old "Moonbeam McSwine" just like Mama named me. I don't want to change. But, I did get a vacuum cleaner I like. I collect them. (Not on purpose). I do like doing laundry though. I love my washer and dryer. I'm just really no good......at anything. Which I kinda like.

I have a deep basket, not plastic, metal. It has two big back wheels, two smaller ones in front. I carry my trash out with it, I can pack at least five on it. (We are very trashy females) and I use it to bring my groceries in. A large size water will fit on the bottom (biggest) and sacks on top. Sometimes it might make two trips, but I can tip the buggy and pull it with two fingers. It folds. Now, there is a trick. Scott put it together and I kept losing those "thingys" that hold the wheels (back wheels) and finally I looked in my office drawer and I had some huge metal paper clips. I stuck them in the holes that hold the wheels on and used pliers to twist them round and round. The tires might wear out one of these days, but they will never come off again. Kinda like putting Gorilla glue in the screw holes on my commode. Poor Billy. He had to get me new commode seats all the time. These will never strip. (Got the basket from Walmart laundry supplies, hangers, etc.). I cannot lift anything heavy. Don't need to break anything inside loose. I can shove things into the buggy and still move it with just fingers. Any of you women need help lifting, I would look into this. But-you-will-have-to-make-it-sturdy, because it does not come sturdy. But it folds sideways and you can put it in your closet, against the wall, behind the couch. This is like mine, but I saw some more that I might retire mine and order after Scott gets well and can do little mechanical things. (My hands shake too much).

I really hated to call Scott. Kelli turns her phone down to where it will move some, (vibrate) but won't ring. When ever I ask Scott how he is, his answer is "Oh, I'm okay." So I called him and got "Oh, I'm okay" and he did not sound hoarse. He said he was sweating, so I guess his fever had topped and was coming down. This "conspiracy illness" hits people different ways. And yes, you can get it again. My nurse friend, her coworker had it, minor fever, no taste or smell, then it was gone and she is cleared and back working. Yes, I believe there are Angels among us. Some we call friend. Some we call teacher. Some we call by many different names. Some are on this forum. I asked for help yesterday, I said a prayer, and sometimes mine do not feel like they go further than the ceiling. Yesterday was a rough day to leave my "necessity." My kids needed new masks. They each had a cloth mask. They are not cheap and they did not have the money. I get my SS tomorrow and I had enough and gas for my car. I found the masks, two boxes, so they have 50. I found three cans/holders of sanitizers. (They go so fast it is a miracle to find them), I found hand wash, big refillable bottle to refill all the little ones and it said "antibacterial" on it. A new 12 pack of paper towels and was met at the door. Do any of you buy the TJ Maxx sacks just because they are pretty? I buy at least five every time I go in the store. I love the pictures and they are $1 each. Well, eventually you get more than you really need, but they will sure hold a lot of groceries. Oh, and God listened to me. I was in the car talking straight to him. No ceiling between us. Did not need my "necessity" until it was time. And I did drive some after dark and I was still okay. (except my sister fussed).

Marty, it was no problem. You just "X" out what you don't want. He didn't alarm me or surprise me, just deleted. No biggy.

We will know in two days if Scott has Covid. He has the fever, lack of smell and taste and the cough. No trouble breathing yet. His sister sleeps right across the hall from him and will listen, and then he will take care of her when she gets it or the hospital. And I keep getting messages from "friends" about this doctor in Texas who has discovered the cure. Texas doctor for 29 years. It is a sniffing steroid. So, he has the cure. Tell me why people are not listening. I dropped two of my forums today because the masks are seen as a gestapo method and we will be living in conservation camps. This is just a sickness that has been "made up" as a ploy to overthrow the government. Said in Taiwan they live on top of each other, 20 to apartment 10 to a vehicle and are free of Covid. It is all in our heads. We are being, for a good old my word "hoodwinked." Four nights ago Scott on the midnight shift cleaned a room where one of these imaginary patients had died, body fluids on the floor. He suited up hazmat, head gear, double masked double clothed, one pair of gloves, jacket on that and another glove pulled on. The incubation period is 2 to 14 days. He did everything right. This virus that is in our imagination managed to get on him. Scott is working VA so that he can get off military disability. He went through a long program for this and all the supervisors wanted him on their shifts. He is bipolar/vampire, so he sleeps better in the daytime and actually this (I thought) would keep him away from patients. Unfortunately, TB showed up as having been exposed at one time or the other so he was off for two weeks and the only job that was left was nights. (He loves working nights). Scott was a DJ in a topless bar for many, many years and actually could go back, but that was where the drugs were. He prefers this. And, I cannot tell you how proud of him I am and how proud of him his dad would be/probably is too. As long as the cough remains, he will stay off any covid floor. I am so proud of him for being so dependable. We went through so many bad years, his dad and I, and he never was a bad person, just an addicted one. (I've been there). Now later in life he is the man, the dependable one, but we have this imaginary illness out there that has him right now. When he was taking his hep-C treatments he stayed with us for the year of treatments. They were very rough. Depression was bad. He snores loudly (he has a machine but won't use it), but those loud snores sounded wonderful to me. One of my very good friends is a nurse practitioner. She works with Covid patients. One of her coworkers didn't even run a fever, just a cough and loss of smell and taste for awhile. She is back at work. I will let you know how it goes. We have all been exposed. I'm not afraid except for my kids. Besides so many believe it is just a conspiracy. (That is just so stupid).

I got it but I immediately deleted it and in fact, in the process I removed all my past messages too. Didn't know I could do that. Don't know if I can do it again. I just read a tiny bit of it and deleted it. He was wanting to "interview" people on grief forums. That was what I got out of it. I just deleted it.

Gwen, my son turned 58 on the 25th of June. So, you are close in age. His high school sweetheart was beautiful, her folks were our acquaintances, she was an only child, but she did not get the attention she needed, I guess, and at 16 was sleeping around for whatever attention she needed. My husband and her mother took her to the clinic to have an abortion. Scott was in the army and was not home. I knew nothing about it. He had "slept" with her and I "sort of" forced a marriage. They stayed together nine years, two babies. It was never a marriage and was something I should not have pushed. I could not stand the idea of losing a grandchild. She was more my daughter than his wife and in later years she told him she always wished Billy and I had been her parents. There were some hard years for my son afterwards as she remarried and moved the kids to the Pacific Coast. Bad, hurting times. Later on he found a young girl (I knew she did not have all her tools in the tool-shed) and they never could live together, but he had found someone who would not run around on him. I knew that was too innocent of him but again, after nine years one of his friends (and he was a friend) waited until Scott had broke up with this one, and he showed him the texts she had been texting. Twice burned, I hope he will find happiness. I know he does not trust, he is not looking, but know there is someone out there for him. Women are not that different than man. It still takes two. Although a close relative of mine admitted to being "bi" and she said she just thought she had the best of both worlds. Right now she is alone and will stay that way. Some things are not meant for me to understand. I do accept things I don't understand though and just live my life.

This woman would not let them help her up.. She got up on her own. I knew that would not have been me. Nah, I think I could have got up but it wouldn't be pretty. I still think they are silly memes..

Same as above. Do not think they should use people's names as memes. They have John Doe and Jane Doe they can use instead of proper names as memes. It really is a form of poly-ticks and man's inhumanity to man.

I'm taking the whole thing down. Do not think they should use names as memes. I'm sure by now y'all have googled it. I read the reasons they use some names as memes. I have a lot of friends with all the names and they are human people not jokes. None of them.

I am watching Gordon Ramsey and his bad talking self on National Geographic. He is traveling and trying out foods we would not touch. He was drinking camel's milk and Kelli was over here. She gagged and I told her that they drank camel's milk like we do cow's milk. Only, now we drink almond milk. I don't know how they ever found the little teats on those almonds. Mama switched goat's milk on me one time. (Daddy had milk goats), he thought it would help his stomach. (Anxiety from living with my mom). That was back when they brought milk bottles to the door. Mama had put the goat's milk in a cow's milk bottle. I drank it and actually it was very good. But, the idea itself gagged me. So, another step into being a vegetarian. She had already fooled me with venison steaks. They were great, but the idea of eating wild meat as a teenager was repulsive. (And Mama's family used to fight over who got the squirrel brains.). To each his own. Anyhow, am enjoying watching National Geographic. Karen, I think I would write someone and tell them you are offended and it is politically incorrect to call that woman a "Costco Karen." Sorry I put this under the wrong post. Oh well, my sanity needed venting anyhow, but that is an everyday problem with me.

Certainly we are. I get it from my sister all the time that since 2014, medicine has come a long way. I know it has. I know they have discovered so many new things, but after laying buck naked like a side of beef ready to slice up, I choose not to lay on these tables for their poking and probing unless I am unconscious. I realize she has only my health and not losing her sister as her concern, but I'm tired. I have been probed and cut and poked too many times and I honestly would rather just go ahead and die, unless they catch me unconscious. We all have different ways we approach things and if it does not please everyone, then it does not concern them. So, anything they say matters not at all. I do think age has a lot to do with not caring what people think. I did used to care............I think..........I'm not sure I remember.

I just went through this on the 3rd, it was our anniversary. His birthday is the 20th.. It will be five years in October. He loved people to celebrate every event with presents for him. He was such a child sometimes. We loved that child though and we will miss them till we see them again. It does no good to say words like that. In fact no words help. Just know we feel your loss. And though you say you don't post much anymore, maybe you ought to. Maybe letting your feelings out might help some. What works for one won't work for everyone.

Both grandparents lived in "dog-trot" houses. Might be a southern term. We have one they have saved in a little town called Dubach, Louisiana (if I am remembering right. I guess it might be a southern term. One side of the house was on the left, one on the right. In between was a huge hallway that led to the back porch and usually the well was right there at the porch. They kept a galvanized cup and a wooden bucket that you lowered into the cold water and pulled up a drink. Many a drink out of that galvanized long handled cup. In both of their houses (open from front to back, big high roof covering it all, the kitchen was on the left side and the bedrooms on the right side, heading from the front. The first room was the parlor and held the piano, organ, and in both houses a basket of artificial fruit to add something.. Decor, I guess. There were old calendars with pretty pictures and in one grandparents were studio pictures of each member of the family. Eventually there was a bathroom added on. (Easy to add on to these houses. Neither was painted. I guess they were "dog trot" because the dog could trot from front to back. I just never asked why. But, all that wax fruit had the indentations of many a young grandchild's teeth in it. That was the room we usually had the Christmas tree and the preacher came to visit. 2-3 fire places on each side of the house. I do not remember them being as fancy as the one below.

I know it is terrible to say this, but when they told me there was nothing else they could do for me and if anything went wrong they could not fix it, for some reason I had a feeling of peace. I felt half my life had been suspended in those damn stirrups. One time I had on a new pair of jeans. My gyn doc was not a joking fellow, but when I got back in the room where I put on my clothes I found something sticking to the bottom of my hip "cheek." No way did he not see it. It was a round sticker that very plainly said "examined by #10" in black and white. Just stuck to my hip. I was by myself in the exam room and was laughing out loud. He never mentioned it, and what could I say? He had seen me all the way through the cancer, allowed me not to go back to MD Anderson, and I worked for a hospital, I know he had to call in some favors to have me seen the next morning. But this was back before we had some wonderful equipment we have now and I was so miserable away from my kids.. Billy was able to take off and took every step I took (except in the treatment rooms). I was just so scared being so far away from home, even with Billy. We miss the person that is supposed to be with us. I'm sorry you have to suffer this pain alone and on top of that watching Ally be ill also. Addendum: I think the word was "inspected" and not "examined" but should have been noticed anyhow.

In my home before A/C all we had was an attic fan. Billy's folks house was cool as A/C though, and it was the "swamp" cooler.. Billy's sister, living in Albuquerque, they had swamp coolers and as dry as the air was out there it was very much needed. All those attic fans did was pull in the hot air from outside, but we didn't know the difference. When we went to visit my grandmother's sisters and brothers way out in the country, of course, the houses were old, "dog trot" houses. That let the air go through. Big porches, swings on them, rocking chairs, all sitting and waiting for Sunday visitors. No phone, maybe no electricity??? Rural Louisiana, red dirt roads, no traffic, and big trees around the house making living in the south tolerable. I was lucky enough to live in a time the young people have no idea about. I was also the first grandchild and had the first great grandchildren that got to see how it was to grow sugar cane for syrup (pronounced "surp"). The smoke houses, the cotton and corn fields. Taught them how to crayfish (crawfish), and they went to the Christmas and 4th of July reunions, so I was able to share some of the good life with them. They remember it fondly also. Thanks Dee, we have some good memories before the bad ones came. I miss him terribly, but I've come to the reality I can't have him again...........not right now.

Dee, I thought it interesting that people used to (and down in the Cajun area) might still use the moss with bed ticking material to make their mattresses. Good thing for those that could not afford a goose feather filled bed (or were allergic).