Margm

Kelli goes fishing by herself. I'm not happy with that. I went with her close to where I live, but most of these places are about 15 miles away from me and I still have to be close to my necessity. Her dad used to go often, but I could go then. I am going to put the places (some of them) that she takes pictures with her phone. She puts it on video sometimes just because I get pleasure out of watching a red and white "bobber" bob up and down catching a fish. Especially when they take it under. She puts the video on FB and I follow her. She takes her mace with her, still frightens me. Those cypress stumps used to be used by the boys in "shop" in school to make lamps with. They would be the base and were sorta redneck pretty with a coat of shellac, wired for a light bulb and a pretty lamp shades. Hey, some of us like hokey stuff. .

As I said, Kelli had to go for her shot this morning and it makes her sick, but is necessary. I copied her note to me and will print it. "I came home. My bones are aching so bad. It's miserable. I got my blood results from last week. She is so happy. The bone marrow is working again. Platelets are up. That might be the last injection today. She drew blood again today. We will wait for those results to see if we can stop" I cannot stand for my kids to hurt, or Brianna either, but the note she wrote me above does give us some hope.

I really think this pandemic has changed medicine as we once knew it. I would imagine when Marty's dad was practicing he would even go to homes. I had our family doctor out one night when I was 15 and had decided my fair freckled self would do like my friends always did. I spread the towel out, lay on the pier for hours. I had ? degree burns, but clear blisters were all over my shoulders and back. I was running a fever, and after hours Dr. Gray came to the house. Oh, when the blistering went away I had freckles in places I had never had them. A friend I had met when Billy was playing ball came one season without freckles on her face. I asked how. She said straight urine. Needless to say I liked my freckles more than that. I read a poem about Louisiana this morning. We have bad weather from any direction, often. It is so humid sometimes you think you will drown just breathing the air, but this late in my life, it has always been home, even before Billy. I was home with Billy even in a tent beside the river (would have been a stream in Louisiana), in whatever state we were in. This was home before Billy, and it was his home before me. I don't want to be anywhere else if he is not with me. ~LOUISIANA PRIDE~ She is a Lady; Her Treasures I've seen... Steamboats and Bonfires and Creole Cuisine! Strawberries and Seafood, Sugarcane and Rice, Mardi Gras, Cotton and Hot Cajun Spice! Marshlands and Campgrounds, Bayous and Beaches, Melons, Pecans and don't forget peaches! She's the Belle of the Ball! What else can I say? She's magic and music and Cafe au Lait! Down by the levee near a plantation gate... Where pirogues drift and festivals wait! She's Spanish-Moss Mornings, A place I know well... A walk by the River, a distant church bell! She's Zydeco, Gospel, She's Blues and She's Jazz... Just something about her no other state has! It goes without saying; It's a feeling inside... Louisiana MY HOMELAND... Louisiana MY PRIDE!!! By Todd~Michael St. Pierre And we do speak a different language.

When it is something serious, something that needs followup, don't we have home care workers that are magically added onto Medicare or to one of our insurances? They come to Kelli when she needs it. I am so proud of her. She was living 40 miles from me, she went by herself for her radiation treatments, all the treatments she has had, she made herself go to them. I don't know where she got her toughness. She is always there to help when any one of us is sick, but this morning she went the 30 or so miles to get her enzyme shots. She has to go to bed as soon as she gets home. The shots make her throw up. The platelets cause her pain so they are trying this new treatment. Yes, she is still fighting her blood disease, her tumors have not shown back up. Yes she is young, but somehow my thinking she is a kid, she will be 53 this month. She inherited my blood disorder and while I am asymptomatic, she has been symptomatic since she was a teenager. I feel guilty with her going by herself, her dad would have been with her, always was, either middle aged kid, he drove them the 100 miles to Little Rock Hospitals for their treatments, Scott's hep-C, both of their trips to the psychiatrists. But he drove his brother also, was with him till his last breath. Some of my doctor visits I wanted to go it alone. Sometimes he didn't understand. But at his sickest, the very short time, we had home health visits. Don't they still do that? When something is serious, don't they still provide home health? They are used to driving great distances. That is what they are for. If a person is too sick to make the many visits, don't they have home health? I know Louisiana and Arkansas are not the only ones. Someone was at my mom's house all the time. If a wound needs taken care of, they provide the care. Maybe that was before this virus took over all our healthcare. I don't go often, but if I go (and Brianna the same), they take their temperature outside the office and then call us in. We go directly to blood draw, or office. Maybe this coronavirus has changed medical care as we once knew it. If you need help though, some help should be provided. Maybe they stopped home health visits.

Karen, I do not know how you made it. There were times when I was very ill, not knowing from day to day, (and I had Billy then), but my mind took all the little things it could take and it said "Tough gal, I'm gone, find your own way" and one time I got lost going to my psychiatrist's office. No cell phones. This truly was something I didn't know how to handle. I knew these places like I knew my own hands. I was lost. I found my way to the office, not my appointment time. These were my friends though (receptionist and doc) and I could depend on them. Billy didn't know the real reason I needed a psychiatrist, but after the cancer, the guilt eating away at me, my dad and friends dying, the amphetamine withdrawal, he sort of left me alone. He could not understand why I could not talk things out with him. If I had, he would have packed his bags. My little pea sized brain had taken all it could. I actually escaped things I could have been hurt and hurt others. My doc told me that sometimes your brain takes all it can and to protect itself and you too, it will go into dissociation. I had so much fear, guilt, withdrawals from the amphetamines, my mind just said "to heck with you." Years later, losing Billy, I never had the dissociation (unless forgetting my last surgery might have been.) I needed it years ago, I accepted it gladly. Now, at 78 next month, I don't think I better call it back.

I tried screaming into a pillow when no one was around. I did not want company. I wanted Billy and I could not have him. I tried that twice, the pain in my head was so bad from doing that I figured I was hurting enough and did not want that. Then I discovered a strange phenomenon, I could cry so hard that when I finished, or came to a time I needed to breathe, I found a peace in not breathing. I could just let go and it would be so easy. It was not long after this I found this forum and for the at least 100th time, I will tell you this. We had roamed the Ouachita Forest, all the back roads, and all those back roads had small roads off of them. In the Muddy Wilderness part we could drive all day and walk and we would never see another car. I had a plan. I could not live without Billy. I just could not. For 54 years we had been each other, I did not know where I began and he ended. Well, now I knew where he ended. I had 50 morphine pills left. A plan was made. A place was chosen. No one could find my truck. But fear did not start, I wanted to be with Billy and my religion made me wonder if I would be with him. My family got the feeling what I was going to do. My children had been angry with me sometimes as is natural for parents, but I thought I had unleashed God's wrath. I had let them down. You do not want to do that. I found this forum and I lived. I learned to take care of myself and I talked with Billy every day. I stuffed a king size pillow sham with his clothes and I still sleep with it. The wound is not healed. It never will be. Scar tissue forms and will fall off, then form again. I think of my grandmothers, my mama, and I carry on just like I hope they would expect me to do. I am him and he is me. We still are. I just cannot see him. Cannot stop the pain, you actually develop healing properties with the tears. They hurt, but you cry until you cannot anymore. And, don't give in to that final feeling of being so easy to just not take that breath. One day you will see spring, you will see autumn. They are not as pretty without our mate, but one day you will see the beauty. Until then, read on.

What was it the Dixie Chicks sang? "Did you like those black eyed peas Earl?" Of course they are just the "Chicks" now, we have to stay proper politically minded. Sometimes God does laugh at me, sometimes I get punished, but he does it in a way I can joke about it. Taking Billy was no joke, taught me independence though. I really didn't want to be independent, so I'm not laughing. I do know "vengeance is mine said the Lord" but many a time I've begged him to let me watch, or just think up a way that maybe he had not thought of. He told me to "be still."

I was thinking how we could get through anything without our mate. I kept having swelling in my left jaw. (Five years ago). I went to ENT who found a piece of tooth or chipped bone that had been cut out so many years ago, probably when I was 19-20. It had become inflamed, after all these years. I had forgot about this entirely and cannot place the time zone on it. I know he had to do surgery in the hospital and Billy (and as usual, the kids) were with us. He scheduled a follow-up to remove the stitches (I guess), and now I remember going in by myself after I had gotten Billy's cremains. The same week. I remember sitting in the chair, being examined and telling him Billy had passed. So, i went without Billy with me. I must have been in some sort of daze. I am just now remembering it. I sort of wished I hadn't. Surely we did not know Billy was sick when I had the surgery, and then all of a sudden he was gone. No more trouble with it. (the neck).

I have not read all of the posts, but this crying is a special one to me. I keep soft paper towels by my chair, by the computer, by my bed, in my car. I carry some in my pocket when I shop. Of course with the virus now, we do not go as many places. I cry whenever I feel like it. I walk anywhere through Walmart and I might start crying at any time. It will be five years in October. I cry at Progressive Insurance commercials. If they show puppies or big dogs, I will cry. (Somehow do not cry about cats). I talk to Billy sometimes and I will cry. If I am driving down the road, I find a good place to stop if it bothers my driving. I have not read the psychological reasons for the crying, somehow I don't care. Just carry tissues with you. If anyone asks if you are okay, just tell them "memories" and you do not owe them anything else, of course you can say "thank you" but if you pause too long, you get people that want to give you advice, or worse yet..........hug you. We don't need to get close. No need to start a conversation either. I cry nearly every time I go by the toy section in Walmart's. (Sporting goods). I used to leave Billy there while I shopped. He was such a good boy he usually would not have left the aisle I left him in. And the anger. I have to repeat my grandfather's harangue at God, cursing him in words Mama, as a tiny little girl, thought they would be hit with lightening. Your not supposed to curse God, ya know. Well, his personally talking, yelling, cursing a God who heard him somehow was recognition of his belief. The family was gathering because my Grandma was dying, seven kids, cancer, surgery for left in instrument, and sepsis. She wasn't even 30. She outlived my grandfather between 25-30 years. So cry and voice your anger. I have, I do. Sometimes I even get angry at Billy. Just do what comes naturally, no apology, no embarrassment, no explanation. You owe nothing to anyone.

My church was a different Baptist than Southern Baptist. They were a fire and brimstone bunch. I had to toe the line. And, I did (until I graduated, then it was Katie bar the door). I'm glad I was taught some things strictly. But saying C.S. Lewis was bad took away some of my obedience. (Oh, I had already discarded obedience period). I don't go to church now because my stomach sounds like a lumber mill, anytime, anyplace. I do watch a non-denominational service each Sunday. Personally, if I was made to go to church, I would pick a church that was mostly a black church. They have a good time with their religion and I like that.

My granddaughter likes to tease me and say I am "woke" and I have not always been. I came from a small "mill-town" where many still live that grew up there. Billy and I grew up in the 50's and 60's. Our son's best friend in the first grade was a person of color. We did not know that until his dad sent us pictures of their Christmas party and I loved it. My son became a Mason in this small place. He quietly quit going to the meetings. I asked why and he said the people had told him that the black people had their own meetings. My dad was a Mason. My granddaughter is Amerasian. We lived in a small town in Arkansas where 99.9% of the people were vanilla. They threw rocks at my granddaughter. She got along with all the young boys but the girls very much disliked her. She is beautiful. Not just a grandma's sight, but she really is beautiful. Because of the hate they demonstrated we home schooled her. We would go up town and her "boy" friends would have her come sit with them in the pizza shop. She was a tween, but she has seen more ugly in the world than I ever did at her age. Come to find out, it was a "sundowner" town. Billy and me, we both were putting the house on the market to come back to the bigger towns we came from.. I just carried through with it, he came along in an urn. I cannot speak of all the injustice we have seen, not just for her but other members of our family. Maybe sometimes God gives us his best. I think we got the best.

I will not make fun of religion (well, I might sometimes), but these are the very people that yelled the loudest at Jerry Ford's wife having been married before and he was one term. Slipping into politics, so I will shut up. Some people have a narrow view on the world and I think it is because they never left their comfort zone. They never left the perimeter of 200 miles from their original home, but when you return after leaving and living among humans, your view of the world in general changes. One woman could not accept her daughter being gay. Her daughter thought she was an evil person and killed herself. That same mother went on the lecture circuit (too late for her daughter), but not too late for other parents. You accept your grown/young children's way of life, even if you do not agree with it. You worry about the people "out there" that would hurt them. But, at least we do not live in a country that it would be automatic death if the truth came out of the closet. Many still do not accept this, but when it hits your friends and home more than once, you think of all the people who off'ed themselves because they were different. Vive la difference. Just my opinion, if I had a tremendous mansion, I would ask the "Queer Eye" fellows to move in. Especially Antoni. (He cooks) It really is not hard to accept "different."

My dad and I followed blue grass and country music festivals, they would have concerts traveling to high school auditoriums and gyms. We would see Red Souvine, Red Foley, Slim Whitman, Faron Young, and we would follow the religious singing quartets in all the little towns around. I did not/have not/will never have a music corpuscle in my body. I took two years of chorus and would pantomime my words. I loved the music, I had the beat, just not the pure music, not even a harmonica. My kids have all kinds of talents, my dad did also, my sister is a poet, my mom could have done anything (but music), and thinking I must have something, years of psychoanalysis taught me I just have chronic depression. Anyone can have that. Well, the way I shake, can you imagine how my feelings would be if my life's ambition was to be a neurosurgeon?

Karen, I have not looked, but seem to remember that being a Zane Grey book. If you have Kindle, I think you can get all his free (might be wrong), (maybe only if you belong to the book club). I use the heck out of that book club. I put them on my Kindle and know I don't have time to read them all, so I will delete them periodically.

Yes, with Nawlins, we can not even spell the words "g-o o-u-t-s-i-d-e. Just the way we worded something. We had a Boykin Spaniel that would go get his own leash and bring it to Billy. He would sit between me and Billy and if we passed anything that looked like a Dairy Queen he would whimper and cry like a baby. So smart.

As much as I know, and all I know I heard from my mama quoting the Bible, he will be there. "We will know as we are known" to me might mean also that maybe in talking to him I can absorb every word. And my Billy, he was so jealous of my books and the time and attention he lost from my reading them, I turned him into a book monster and I know he would sit with me and listen to every word C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien would say. But I think he would look for those old mountain men who lived "the life" he was born too late to take part in, I would sit with him and listen to their stories too.. I cannot do anything but wonder about my Baptist friends who acted like I was going to see a demon movie in watching "Narnia." I still feel strangely toward them. They obviously were not as smart as I was. 😁

You know me, I still have to have my fairy tales. I only quit watching "Sleepy Hollow" because a major person died. (Yes, I read "spoilers.") Brianna cannot understand, and it aggravates her to no end, that I want to know what happens before it happens. People used to ask me why I loved fairy tales so much, the TV series and movies depict life as it is. And that is why I like fairy tales. I live life. (That used to be a "given" but we know we lose our zest for life sometimes). I keep the movie "Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole" on my Netflix when I am not watching TV because the colors and sounds comfort me. I would be remiss if I didn't mention "The Spider Chronicles" movie and books. I loved it. Truth be known, I think I was the only one. But, I've always dreamed of finding the wood nymphs, the tiny fairies making homes in the woods, the life they live staying away from the monsters like tiny animals. There are five books written by Holly Black and Tony DiTerlizz (sp?) I have only seen the movie, but think I will go and read the five books now. I live in a part of the country called the Bible Belt. That's okay, I'm part of it. The Bible can actually be a magical book also. I won't preach on that though, I'm not that good a person. But, I was warned in many places not to go see the series of movies, books written by C.S. Lewis named "The Chronicles of Narnia" and I so really enjoyed them. For some reason they thought they sent a message of the devil, not books for children. I disagreed with all my being. I had followed C.S. Lewis and know his trials with Christianity and also know his friend J.R.R. Tolkien had an influence on him. I have his book "A Grief Observed" and for you people only married a short while, he was only married four years and it had such a life lesson on him, he shared it, I understood it, and he was one man I would have liked to have known. I felt I did, just like I felt I knew Edward Abbey and a woman that wrote her autobiography, Agnes Morley Cleaveland, "No Life for a Lady." Some books you live along with the writers and when you are through, you go back and read them again, just so you can be close to that person you admire. Edward Abbey was a scoundrel, but a lovable one. I have all his books, but because Billy and I tried to follow his path when we were RVing, I cannot read them now. As to C.S. Lewis: "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else." Now why do people want to doubt this man? And yes Karen, I recommend "Once Upon a Time." And, for the real historical parts, for the magical part of time travel using the big round circle of stones in various places, (the author is a very intelligent woman, Diana Gabaldon) you cannot beat the "Outlander" series of eight books of around 7,500 pages. They take place in present day (unsure of the years) and switch to the 1700's. I will tell you ahead of time, she might use up 25-30 pages on one sexual meeting, and so you can skip those) if you want to. I did. The guy playing "Jamie" on the series is Sam Heughan, a Scottish actor and probably the only person I would go looking for a circle of big rocks and wishing I was 50 years younger. To the elderly ones, these books are our "Peyton Place" books. I read all 8 before Billy left. The TV series follows it closely. I wrote a critique to Amazon and told them (I was 72 at the time) that the books would be shorter and not waste so many pages if they would leave off the 25-30 pages for sexual activities. They printed it on their critiques. Right underneath my critique was one from another 72-year-old woman who enjoyed the sexual pars of the book the most. Maybe she was still taking her hormones. I wasn't.

They put new signs up for no fireworks on apartment complex so they go out in the road in front of the apartments. Kelli's pup is 9-10 years old and really fragile. She jumps out of the chair and yelps. She doesn't weigh anything hardly. She got a young male cat at the pound and had it fixed. Nawlin's could play with him when he was a kitten. He is not a kitten anymore. He hurts her with his claws. Not a good time to have him. But, I've been through this before and it is not pretty. I'm glad Scott is there now. Of course Nawlins does not have a mean bone in her body, just melting eyes that understand everything you say. She still eats and has to be right on Kelli constantly. If Kelli leaves her with me she stands at the door and makes the most pitiful sound. I can get her to come up and sit next to me and that is about all I can do. I'm not Kelli.

Gwen, I'm so sorry. And, that is really all I can say. No words help. Again though, I am so sorry you have to go through this.

Anything that was published or new movie of 2015, I avoid like the plague. That year is my demon year. If it says 2015, I don't have it.

Billy would not let me get old. He would get angry if anyone called him old. I have totally let myself go and only do the things that keep me alive and this excess weight is not good. No exercise is bad too. I know all that. Karen, I never wore my dress again. I think it was put in Mama's cedar chest and somehow a lot of my things got thrown away or destroyed. Does me no good now anyhow. At least you could wear your suit again. I'm so sorry for your loss. I'm so sorry for all of our losses. It is now July 3rd, my 59th wedding anniversary. I'm still here and my imagination cannot conjure him up in cardinals, Angels I am familiar with, and he had three old girlfriends that went on before me. I told you sometimes God laughs at me. It is really just another day. It meant something together. It was a long time. And, yes I wanted more.

I tried on my belt to the dress after Scott was born and no matter if I got to below my weight at high school, I could never pull it together again.

I'm writing this on the 2nd, because I will be out of town on the 3rd. In 1961, on the morning of July 3rd, my lifelong friends and classmates Bonnie and Marilynne made the trip down highway 371 from our small town to the village at the end of the road (at that time), which was 31.2 miles away. We made sure the garage apartment I was moving into that night had all the new things set up and ready for a wedding destination ending. As we were leaving, I called Billy just to make sure he was gonna be there. The grocery store in front of the apartment had a pay phone, no cell phones in 1961.) Then we traveled to my home, a new place my folks had moved in after my graduation. Twelve years at same school, 17 years, birth town. Billy lived at the very end of the parish (county), I lived on the Arkansas line. Because of my mom and I not getting along, we moved the date up from the 7th to the 3rd. Could not get my folks pastor (who had already signed on) for the 7th, but got my pastor in my lifelong church in my hometown. Picture had been in the paper for the 7th. Didn't expect many people, and that was what we wanted. We had all our "couple" friends with us. I got ready in my short white dress with the lace boudice that Mama had made. We had found material for 42 cents a yard. (I'm remembering things that were unimportant, just easy to remember). We didn't make any pictures of the wedding. Did not even think about it. Billy got paid on the 7th, so he sold a gun to his friend to pay the preacher. I had groceries in the refrigerator. Bacon, eggs, bread, butter, Miracle Whip (what else did we need?) I had never been on my own to do anything. I was standing on my porch, waiting for Mama and my sister and Daddy and I were standing.......just waiting. A gentleman friend of Daddy's came up (and I won't mention any names), he was the future lead singer in a family bluegrass band that made a pretty big splash among bluegrass fans. Yes, my dad was a banjo, mandolin, fiddle, and anything else that made musical sounds player and played with some bands (local only). We all talked, he teased me some. I saw where he had passed away last month or so. Just shows how many years ago this was. He was a young man then. My own dad was an old man of 42. We got to the church, which was in the old hometown and all of a sudden it was filled up with people. My hand signature on the marriage certificate is very shaky, Billy's strong and bold. Then he told me marriage was 75/25 and to guess what part was mine. Uh-ho, that kid of 20 thought he was my boss. We straightened all that out over the years. That night, way up into the morning, till daylight, he and I, along with two other couples (may have been three for part of night) stayed up and played Rook and dominoes and talked. Then they left us. That marriage was the biggest feather bed (although we didn't have one) to fall into and though we had lots of rough times, it was a feather bed life I was not ready for him to leave. We had only just begun. On the 3rd, it would have been 59 years, and I would have liked 59 more. To quote Kris Kristofferson "Loving him was easier than anything I'll ever do again." Lots of water rolled under that bridge and a few times it was shaky, but was stronger than when it first began, at the end. I can remember every thing from so many years ago, but cannot remember what I walk into a room to get, sometimes. I will be gone most of tomorrow. I sure do miss him, and he was also "good to ride the river with." I am him, and he is still me. Pictures around that time are still packed away. I might get to them eventually.

I think I put this on the wrong post. No, I put the one by Emily Dickinson on the right post. It was the one where the young man saw his wife as the bird who came to talk to him. I had to find another with the same words, but maybe this one is small enough. I hope so, because it meant much to me four-or-so years ago.

Kay, I had posted one with a cardinal, which I had saved for about four years in my pictures, but it proved too big for the space and I didn't know how to make it smaller, so I had to find another. It was one I found after I saw the cardinal perch on the porch railing. Used to see innumerable cardinals on my porch in Arkansas. I don't see as many down here, but watching and naming birds was a hobby for both of us since we retired, and before. We kept bird feeders out. He loved the hummingbird and waiting for the first of the season and the last to leave. We saw so many different birds. And, I think watching for the birds is something I shy away from because it was his and my hobby, and somehow just being mine lacks something. So, I don't watch for them anymore. That single cardinal, and the cardinal special meanings, was my answer from Billy. (I love my imagination). Who knows? HE knows when a sparrow drops. (Matthew) and I don't know where to find it and am not going to google it. The hummingbird will come right up to you and sit on your shoulder. They make me nervous with that long bill though. In New Mexico, up on the high plains were doves or pigeons of beautiful colors. Billy was fascinated by them. I don't watch for them anymore either.