Margm

George, sometimes we are our best doctors. We don't have a prescription pad, but I have my whole history typed out in front of my purse in zipped compartment . I am not supposed to have things done that they would do to me ordinarily. I'm glad you are on top of things. It was sweet of you to read the letter to your sister. We have to make a comfortable existence for ourselves. I am so happy you were aware of your health and symptoms.

I really let things slip up but when you have to pay a deposit "again" on things and the ball is already rolling downhill you forget about important things, and I have to count my blessings when I think that paper towels are so important. The Dollar Tree took my last dollars but how can I complain. It goes back to the man who cried because he had no shoes, until he saw the man with no feet. So many blessings left uncounted. My crosses are not up in my house yet, don't know which box they are in, but somehow without my crosses I forget tto pray. Silly of me. I've put my rolls out to rise, have to make the cornbread and boil the chicken, put the two frozen rotisserie chicks in the oven to warm. So much to do. Please be safe my friends and please be thankful for what we have. Our loss hangs around our neck and in our heart. Coming from a huge ole country family with two different sides of the creeks to travel, from the Bodcau Bayou, my mom's huge boisterous family to the closer to Dorcheat Bayou,, my dad's quiet, sweet family, and now all gone, including Billy's fighting family along the Dorcheat Bayou. We will do our best. And we will list what we are thankful for, even to our dwindling few and all the others with their smaller families. We once were a formidable large crew scattered through two parishes (counties), and now we are so few. New families, new customs. Have as happy a Thanksgiving as you can.

Lynda, I had my plan to follow along behind Billy and we had had 54 years. We still had plans and dying was not in those plans. It went fast, (am I glad or did I want him to hurt longer?), and four years later I did not want him to hurt longer but I told him, refused to listen to him when he pitifully let me know he was leaving. I turned my back on him. Three days later I wrote to this group. I think it saved me to know I was not alone. In between those three days I was going to drive the truck into the "Muddy Wilderness" where there were no trucks or cars. I would go down a path into the woods and on a beautiful autumn day that was the most horrible time in my life I would take the 50 morphine pills left and would not be found until hunting season. I knew what would happen to my body out in the depths of the wild animal woods and was glad. I never once thought of my children, my grandchildren, my sister, only following the man who said "I am you and you are me" and we were. It has been four years and today for just a few minutes, I pretended I was driving with Billy, I put my hand on my purse like I used to put it on his leg. We hurt. Like Rose Kennedy said, we build up scar tissue and it can be ripped off too. Your younger than I am. I'm sorry we have to hurt so bad but young or old, six months or 60 years, it is a terrible ripping apart pain that when you cry until you cannot breathe, it almost seems peaceful not to breathe. I can only advise you to keep reading. Listen to Marty. Listen to Kay and all the others that are still hurting after years. And yes, at the moment we want to follow them. And missing them does not quit, but one spring will come when you will see the flowers again, one autumn when you will see the many colored leaves. It will still be muted, but you will see them again. I'm so sorry, and that is the only thing we can say..................but keep reading these people who have lost their most important friend, a part of themselves.

Yep, I saw it. I have also seen 2-3 of her little movies and it tickles me that all my sweet, tight-laced friends will watch them thinking they are a similar to Hallmark show. Dolly takes controversial subjects and splats them right on out. I admire her for being married 53-years, I admire her husband for hanging in there and not going to any of her shows and probably not having any jealousy. I just plain love Dolly, and she can still wear those outfits at over 70-years old, still sing, and I admire her. Yes, I am tired. Surprised I am so much more tired than before and sorta sad. Well, that goes without saying, but it is almost too much memory to go back through. So many of my friends have passed away and so many have dementia. So many I need to go see, but again, I am selfish. I protect me as much as possible. Really, I hope you all have as good a Thanksgiving as you can. Will make my regular dressing (stuffing), but this year I bought two rotisserie chickens to go along with it instead of turkey. Instant Thanksgiving. My sister has filled my refrigerator with pies and sweets (we don't do much cooking) except the dressing and mashed/creamed (to me) potatoes. I bought canned turkey gravy if the dressing is too dry, and also cranberry sauce. Seems we have to carry on tradition, even if it is instant tradition. My aunt used to use 12 whole eggs in her dressing (stuffing) and I use egg beaters. (I hate cooking. Y'all do your best. I think Kay might be snowed in. Thinking about y'all.

The move and expenses left me with almost a minus amount in checking and a 12 dollar savings. Scott went over with me to finish up. No electricity, so I could not vacuum, had already done it once. They have a large deposit that I had heard they do not give back, so it was pretty darn clean and they will go in and completely clean it. The drive to the new apartment, again, like I said, is less than half a mile. But, I had a sadness leaving this place. I made it down those four wide, deep concrete steps the last time. It was a feeling I had fled away from the sorrow of the other home where Billy left me to this safe place. On the half mile back to the driveway I sat my purse on the passenger side and pretended it was Billy's leg, like we used to ride. That place seemed to protect me even though it would have killed me with the steps and the nasty washing machines and dryers that tore up our clothes. It was such a job going and finding a washer that worked and a dryer (5 out of 10) that worked and fighting 105 units for a machine, not knowing what germs you were washing with and the hassle of finding a vacant machine. People would wash on the week end and just leave them till Monday. I don't have to do that anymore, but it was still a place that seemed to protect me. Kinda sad, but it is for the best. We do what we can. I do not know where anything is. My daughter and granddaughter have set things up that we need and Kelli has decorated. I think I have been more morose though, not even wanting to shower. (I guess I figured people would not come around me). Staying in one place for 100 years or moving twice in four years. Does not matter. Does not bring them back, we know that is not going to happen, so we do whatever we can to try to make it easier on us right now. I cannot take another move (alive), I am just now quitting hurting everywhere. Bitch, bitch, bitch. I've learned how to do that very well. (Somehow, I think it was always there waiting to explode). I hope you all have the happiest Thanksgiving you can have under all the circumstances. Family, no family, solitary, go buy that "Big Man" turkey dinner, open a can of cranberry sauce and watch all Dolly's little movies. My heart is with you all.

My close friend (since childhood) and I married boys from the same little town. Billy and I got these two together and he was best man at their wedding three days before ours. They had two girls and our kids grew up together. My kids still refer to her as "aunt." Her first husband passed away in early 2000's. Two years later she married again, he had a heart attack on their honeymoon (his wife had passed away also, he was a couple of years younger than my friend) and she took care of a progressively worse disease process for 12-14 years. I don't know how many really. She never complained. She did say she was sore one time when she fell on the stairs and hurt her ribs, but she had a husband to take care of. At the end of last year she lost the second husband and the problems she was supposed to take care of in her own body, she had ignored them. This morning she had the aortic valve replaced. She did mention that her legs were swelling where it was hard to get around and yes, she knew about the problem years ago, but she was a caretaker and ignored her symptoms. Happily, this was able to be corrected this morning and maybe she might need a little more care, but now she has time to take care of them, and I think she will. I wondered why I avoid the things that Billy and I found so much pleasure in together and found out my friend avoided the same things, only now she grieves two husbands, the one she lost the first time, her children's dad, the one she was angry at for leaving (why do we do this when we know they would not have left if they could have helped it?) Both were good men and both were lucky to have my friend as their wife. I am happy to report she is doing very good after heart surgery. I woke up this morning thinking I had to be quiet getting up so as not to wake up Billy. (He would not have complained), but I knew he read into the a.m. each morning. Usually, this phenomenon of feeling him beside me disappears as soon as it enters my mind, I don't dwell on it, but this morning it stayed with me long enough to look and he was not beside me, of course. I do have to get rid of this king sized bed and get possibly a big twin (I saw they came in that size). I don't mind feeling him close to me, but I do mind that he is really not there. To Kay, and those in the northern areas, I just opened my windows. We are at the time where we turned the heat on the other night, turned the A/C on for a few minutes yesterday, and it is supposed to rain and a cold front come in this week end. This is swamp weather (even though these are the piney hills of Louisiana). This is the first time we have had windows to open. In the house and then the other apartment), it was easier to use the A/C and heat rather than the humid weather we have in this area. Stay warm my friends, or stay cool (those in Florida and coastal areas). But one thing I enjoyed about the hills of Arkansas) was the seasonal weather. Although, this is seasonal for Louisiana.

Ah girls, you are so sweet. Listen y'all, it was so easy to move the RV. Even 3-1/2 years in the other apartment, I collected so much junk. When I moved out of the house, the reason they tell you not to do anything for awhile is because there really is something called "widow's brain" for the men also. All I can remember is the man running around picking up things that were not even offered. My son was with me then and he was in shock too. I settled down for awhile and this move I am doing now is tiring, painful, but that is physical. Something I have come to terms with. All those boxes I have not unpacked, moving opened up my closed mind. I have boxes of pictures and boxes of Billy's hobbies, some clothes. I cannot take these things with me. My kids want to make shadow boxes with the flies he tied. I know they will enjoy the pictures we have not looked at in years and they can have what they want. Also found our old movie films (videos), not sure what you call them. I will have one of the stores make them into CD's, but know I'm not ready to see them. I was still selfish with one thing. For our last adventure, and even at our age we had plans for more RVing. I had ordered a stainless steel percolator from Amazon, this for times we would "boondock" without power for the RV. I don't know why, but other than my ring, I think it is my prized possession (just an inanimate object.) It is some sort of letting go. This move has shown me you definitely cannot take it with you, and we have nothing of monetary value anyhow. I had hovered over the house generator because my brother-in-law had given it to Billy in case we ran out of power and needed a generator. He bought it for him, then we lost Billy's brother, and I cared deeply for him. He was 11 years older than Billy and was like a father and grandfather to Billy and our kids. Now tell me, in reality, what am I going to do with a large generator? I gave it to the movers. They wanted it, I gave it and have not regretted it. I have a washer and dryer (and probably in six months will have the flood of clothes we have near drowned in, we will be caught up. Lots of comforters to wash. I do feel like I have crossed some unseen place in time and possibly have come out on the other side. No happier, but not as weighted down either. (Just part of my word salad, my body is still weighted down.) All that talk above and the fact is that I have to do a lot more work. I worked for 43 years and was very good at my job. I don't like anything connected with "work" of any kind anymore. But, granddaughter is decorating, so is my daughter, and I am letting them. A lot of words about nothing. My kids spent today with me cleaning the apartment. We have to clean the refrigerator now and clear the pantry out. I have to the 30th and my most persistent fault has always been procrastinating............and I type too much.

Kay, as I have mentioned so many times, both of my kids suffer from bipolar. Billy had faults, but he loved his children and grandchildren like no man I was associated with, and by that I mean my dad and uncles and grandfathers and even friends. He was the "go to" person for them all. No task turned down unless it was an impossibility. Their grief is palpable and they express it in different ways. Scott feels wrong wearing Billy's coats, etc. Kelli feels left out if she is not provided whatever part of his belongings that she wants. After he left I put everything in boxes and she honored my actions. But, she wants so much of his things I am finally ready. I have to tell myself, Billy will never wear them, he will not fish with the flies he has tied, and neither will I. There is the old story of "The Dog in the Manger" and I have been that person. Billy and I never have been rich. But she wants to make a shadow box with his flies and Billy cannot use them. I have been so selfish. They miss their dad, in their own way, as much as I do. They keep close to me and I could not have moved without them. They seemed burdens early on, and sometimes they are, but now they don't only take, they help. My son is here every football game. He watches TV with us. His sister moved from across the hall and he is lonesome. She moves so easily and often, she will be back over close as soon as she can find a place. They need each other. My sister is literally around the turn of the apartments, I am apartment #105, she is #210. It was scary moving things after dark (small necessities) and I mentioned the lack of lighting (there are motion lights that were not working) and last night we had lights. My washer and dryer are working very often. Water is paid for here, but not electricity, and I pay more than the other apartment, but it is a place to live in comfort. And, I tend to do the things Billy would not do. He would never have lived in an apartment and my little car, his 6'3" frame would have been his biggest dislike. He was a truck man. I got tired of crawling up to the cab. I keep hoping both will find partners that will make them happy, but I hoped that for my sister also. Both have been "burned" and like my sister, do not want to get close to the flames. I know when I am gone that I will not care, but while I'm here I do care.

About 16 years ago we moved to the Mount Ida house. I thought I was too old then. I was just a young chick. This time I hurt all over. And the guys had the things out of the apartment into this one less than half a mile away in less than an hour probably. The work was in the packing. Apartments are not for everybody. The boxes are all piled in my room. Boxes of memories. Boxes of memories I did not want to face, or look at either. Just put off the obvious, so many boxes, I can hardly make up the bed. Just boxes of memories that someone else will have to deal with............and as much as I hurt this morning, (physically and mentally) still cannot go through them. Four years later I am pushed into a corner literally, have to deal with them.

I think the Xanax makes me have dream amnesia. I can remember dreaming while I am in a dream and thinking I am going to remember it. I don't. But I do wake up most nearly every morning thinking someone is in bed with me, nothing sensual, just a moment of memory, then I sit up and it is gone. Kinda wish they would stay awhile. One thing Billy hated, and I learned early-on, not to mention a fellow being nice looking. Now I say it all the time, and I think Billy probably laughs. Yeah, my youngest grandson is 34, my only grandson, and he is so handsome, just wish we could get him into rehab. I'm in my apartment. I have Billy right next to the fiberoptic Christmas tree I run all year. It is a pretty nightlight. My daughter hung all his hats on the wall above the little tree. Will never forget his "Do you like my hat?" and he was not teasing. He liked straw hats and those Australian looking outback hats. Scott said "this seems more homey than the other place." So did my daughter and granddaughter. Now I have to go back and clean up the other one. Lease is not up till the 30th and I'm tired y'all.

My dad was a bluegrass/old country music fan and participant. Daddy had the tremor like I inherited from him. He would sing me to sleep with Jimmie Rodgers's "All Around the Watertank" and that probably is not the name. He knew all his old songs. Daddy could play any musical instrument and his music came from a genre of old country, blues, folk and bluegrass. On Monday nights (before A/C) we had our own little town "Louisiana Hayride" music for years at our house. People would sit in their yards and on our big front porch to hear the music. His favorite was, of course, Jimmie Rodgers from Meridian, Mississippi. He was called "The Singing Brakeman" and "The Blue Yodeler" and my daddy could yodel with the best. Jimmie Rodgers lived from 1897 to 1933. My dad lived from 1919 to 1984. I awoke every morning to the red and black plastic radio on top of the refrigerator turned to KWKH, Shreveport which carried the country format until the 2000's. Then it switched to sports radio. (Daddy was gone by then.) Before that though, all us country kids woke up each school morning listening to Red Souvine, Webb Pierce, Hank Williams, Kitty Wells, Faron Young, and we had the famous Louisiana Hayride in Shreveport. I knew nothing but country, so I am, had to be, country. .On my wedding day a man named Willard Cox came to the front of the house and talked to Daddy and me. (He was a friend of my dad's). He was the patriarch of "The Cox Family" and you can hear them on movies that play bluegrass in the background. Willard passed away last week. Billy liked music, to listen to. Was not a big music fan. My dad was the only one in a close family that had the talent to play any instrument "by ear" which meant he picked it up and he played and sang not really knowing the notes. Did not keep him from playing with bands in the area and in later years they entertained the residents of the nursing homes. I was very aware of Elvis, The Everly Brothers, and some like that, but the Beatles never hit home with me. My dad's friend would sing Elvis songs for me and an old Bob Luman song called "Red Cadillac and a Black Mustache" So you see where my down to earth countryness comes from. My granddaughter is a music aficionado. She knows popular music back to Sinatra, and loves it. (She very much dislikes country music) In my elderly years I listen to one song of Led Zeppelin, all of Queen, Journey, all the old groups from the 80's, 90's and now. I listen to old country when I am by myself going back up into Arkansas. Would like to hear Slim Whitman again. George Jones and Merle Haggard make me cry, so I don't listen to them. Living now, we lose something in the interpretation.

“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” ― C.S. Lewis I am old, but am not sure I have reached the age for C.S. Lewis's thoughts, and having read his book, I know why he wrote the above, and the conditions he wrote it from. I do know the esteemed Billy Graham believed in Angels. No, I don't think they are happy all the time. I think they grieve with us. I know that most people who make their life taking care of the dying have to be special Angels. Still they come, taking care of the living until they do not live anymore. I think they have to learn each day to "let go" when the patient has to leave. I do not think they show us wings, they just administer good when and where they can............like you do with your volunteering. They do not want to let any of their friends "go" but they try to make the leaving as mentally painless as is possible.......which must be an intolerable task. We had two that worked with Billy and both called to set up their appointments after he had "left." They were surprised he left so soon. So was I.

I'm sorry you spent the day in pain, but knowing Gwen (which I really do not, but feel I do), you gave a present to a person you had missed and who you knew must have needed to see you. So, the patient/resident that you missed in your volunteering, you gave the present of your presence. That must have meant so much to this person. I heard something on "CBS This Morning" that reminded me of you. I wrote it down. (It is hard for me to remember verbatim a sentence/quote without writing it down. ) They finished up a human interest story with these words:"Any medical professional can make you healthy, but only an Angel can make you all better." You represent that Angel to many nursing home residents. And, I hope that Angel is out there that will make you "all better." Your in my heart this morning.

Then you have a birthday coming up. Gotta let us know date. I think I can find a card. Won't be a gnat's worth compared to the one you want. And, we are your family here. I feel like I am in Haiti most of the time, I'm that many miles away, and sometimes we speak another language down in this country. But, I seem to remember a couple of people from South Africa. They didn't stay long though. And, we are here until we aren't. Couple of week stay in the hospital with ruptured colon and overall sepsis. Would not let them take me to the hospital, but then my body gave in on its own and they got the ambulance. I was out most of that first week. Never will forget a technician showing a new technician (he was trying to impress her), he impressed me. He did a cut-down without deadening and I became very verbal (and I was in a Catholic hospital). He said "uh-oh, I hit a bleeder" and by that time I had someone in with me who was not trying to impress a new tech. I think Billy thought I was a goner, and the kids too.. They forgot to tell me though. We love you Gwen, you are who you say you are and do not try to be anything else. And that is what we all do here, we unload our depression/anger (and sometimes they are the same) and our pain, and we all have pain, physical and mental, hard to tell the difference. Okay, three paragraphs, I will stop. I could write 12, but I would just be saying the same thing. (And I have taught transcription to some young girls before also.)

My sister will live literally around the corner apartment from me. Good??? Bad??? Who knows, and it is not like either one of us has that much time to find out. My "sister from another mother" had her heart cath yesterday. She is very likely going to need the aortic valve replaced. She did not take care of herself, did no followup echocardiograms like she was supposed to. (She took care of her semi-invalid new husband for about 12 years). He left her around Christmas and her illness had time to catch up with her. Her feet and legs swelled, it was hard to walk. The doc said he may have some "wiggle room" to maybe not replace the valve. I have been away from medical terminology for about six years now. So many new things. The only women I became semi-close to in these apartments, one moved with her husband to Beaumont, they both had cancer diagnoses and will be close to her son. My neighbor across from me sort of criticized me for wanting to be "home" (no place is home without your significant other), but my neighbor hated it here, wanted to move back to Texas. I explained about this being where my "roots" were. She said, in our very southern language, "why do you care, they are all daid" and I spelled it like she said it. Anyhow, I didn't see her for a few days, not many, and someone came and moved her Jeep. Then her brother and family moved out her apartment. Then I was told she was "back in Texas" at her son's in Fort Worth. She worked as a caretaker. All hours of the day and night. She has been diagnosed to have less time than they gave Billy. Thomas Wolfe said it this way: “Man is born to live, to suffer, and to die, and what befalls him is a tragic lot. There is no denying this in the final end. But we must deny it all along the way.” I guess I am still denying it. But, the denying part had to be built up again. I told Billy, before he left, "you know they tell me my cancer is cured and after over 30 years you would think I believed them." He agreed with me. And before he left me, he thought I had left him, and I guess being comatose I just didn't know, and now I don't remember even my own pain. Billy took my pain, and I now share his. My part of it anyhow, he is free of pain. I am happy for him, I am sad for me. I've said it before. I am very selfish. And, if I have already said all this, please consider the source. I do that often now.

Gwen, we can always be "us" here. And, I believe in the broken heart syndrome. My sister by another mother, we have gone through many years together, raised our kids same time, and she just lost her second husband. She has a leaking aortic valve and was supposed to go for echocardiograms at scheduled times, but she took care of her husband and not herself. Now, Thursday she goes in to find out what they can do. She has kids, grandkids, close neighbors for 30 years, two sisters and a brother and I told her I would be with her if she wanted me to be. She just wants me to be with her two girls if the worse happens. I don't think I am a fatalist, but I sure have been in the past. Your 2000 miles away, but if I could be with you, I would. You have meaning to your life, even if you cannot see it. You have seen patients alone, with no one to help them, no family, no friends, and you have sat with these people for nearly 30 years. Your life has had more meaning to it than the highest CEO of any company. You have come into so many people's life that sitting with them in that nursing home made them have meaning to their life. What you have done, you are a very important person my friend. I admire you so much. My daughter was a nurse in nursing homes and she still helps take care of sick, elderly people who have no one else. It is the first of the month and a man she checks on every other day at age 93, he had a young woman in his house. His two grown children have depended on Kelli to check on him. We have to have people that will take time out of their life to help the person that cannot help themselves. Do not cut yourself down, you have been a very important person to a lot of people with no voice for many years. Not many of us can say how important we have been to people, but you can, just think back on the people you influenced to live another day, to look forward to seeing you each day. And, we are here to tell you that you are important to us, even 2000 miles away. Your reach is tremendous. We care.

Dee, we were RVer's for so many years, and it is surprising that my "kith and kin" mean so much to me. If he had lived and age had not caught up with us, we might be in a special apple orchard RV park in the Sacramento Mountains in New Mexico. Where ever he was was home. His leaving and us getting too old was the only thing that could hold us down. This is what I have to do, and it will be my final move. I hope I live long enough to see my family just be happy.

When I moved the first time he had just "left." My mind was nowhere. I remember some man confiscating all our outside yard equipment, I saw it, and somehow I knew I would never use it again, Billy could not, the kids couldn't, so why shouldn't that man have it all. He said he helped the elderly people who lived in the senior homes in town. I didn't even remember till lately. Now, I am moving about 1/2 mile from where I live and will have someone move all the big furniture, but getting it all together is something I'm hanging back. They are moving my new W/D this afternoon and I'm in a quandary about what comes first, chicken or the egg. I have electricity on in both places and I guess if I forgot something it would not be hard to return and get it. Gotta have beds and clothes in and the most important........internet and TV, which I will just move the service I have now, but when? I have both grown kids and grown grandkid helping too. Besides, I never unpacked 12-15 of the big plastic boxes I moved in here to begin with. Don't know if I ever will. Told Brianna we can use them to put the TV's on, but she has a decorating bug and I don't. I will just keep them all in my room. They are big, plastic, with lids, so I can just pile them on top of each other. Do not know what is in them and don't want to look. Gotta do this.

I most times believe my children miss the great man, and that is what he was, and each bring up about Daddy driving them somewhere. It was just always if they needed support of any kind, he was there. I try to be, most times I succeed, but I do know it is not the same. And, for all of us, it is never the same again.........how could we hope for anything else. I really physically do not know how to swim and sometimes it feels like I cannot put my feet on the bottom and have my head above the water. I remember getting so angry at him when we lived on the lake. I was in a grove of trees next to the dock, in a pirogue, I stood up and the boat kept moving, the tree knocked me in the water. I went in over my head, lost my custom made fishing rod (he had put my name on it), came up sputtering and angry because he, Scott, and another man were laughing at me, I knew I was going to drown and they were laughing. Then I put my feet on the bottom and it was only waist-high. I felt foolish, still angry, and lost my fishing rod. Life (in the drowning sense) has not changed much. I wonder if he laughs at me. I know God does.

He left, I planned on taking the 50 morphine pills and going out into the vast wilderness where I would not be found. Religious questions kept me from it, plus I joined this group three days after Billy left. I have close friends that are new in their grief. The only advice given me, the unasked for advice was "keep busy." I already have to keep a calendar. I do not have enough Xanax for any busier. I am not well, but I cannot be fixed if anything happens, so I try to keep things on an even keel. I am monetarily better off than my family (only because of retirement and a little SS), I have excellent insurance through our jobs, and we worked 80 years between us. We did not put money back, our employment in civil service did that for us. The insurance has not changed since Billy's first 1959 employment and staying with the group insurance, which is 2nd to our Medicare. My family has not been as lucky and I breathe easier when the first of the month comes. "What will they do when I'm gone?" is a question I ask often, and my answer is, "I want be here to worry about it." The short version (and my word salads paint too many boring pictures) is I could not stay where he wasn't. I tried to do things he would not do. He would never have lived in an apartment, but I have so many worries I had to delete as many as I could, and already living under guilt of refusing to let him go, I had to move on. My family needs my help. I wanted it written up that I would go into a nursing home or anything where I would not be a burden on them, but instead, they have become my burden and I don't want to lose any of that burden. I am needed, that is all I can explain, and the two words "what if" have not happened. I am moving about half a mile from these apartments so I can have a washer dryer. There is a laundromat here, in constant use from 105 units, and I moved in haste. Have not unpacked from first move but have accumulated more. The years together were many, and I wanted 54 more. I offer no advice. Advice makes new widows and widowers angry. And we think of them as "You don't know." We are older, but the younger have the same problems. We all had unfinished plans. It is not easy, and I have discovered the panic attacks I had when I had cancer as a much younger woman. I am happier in our old home surroundings and people. Louisiana is not as pretty and in the winter we need heater/furnace/fireplace in mornings and sometimes A/C in afternoons, but it is as close to being home as I will ever be until I am with him again. I try to make it as easy on myself as I can, and I do have my family and friends. We have our 60th year high school reunion in June and have lost many of the original 106 graduates. My roots go deep in my surroundings and even though, at my age, many of my friends and family are part of this soil I grew up on, married on, had my children, spent their childhood here, and grandchildren. I have great grandchildren I have not seen and somehow, I do not have a yearning to see them. He loved his babies so much I do not want to be a part of something he cannot be a part of. Maybe I'm selfish. I do tend to repeat myself. I remember my grandmother doing this. She lived to be 95. I was not really a fan of Rose Kennedy, but I knew her great loss and did seek out any words of wisdom I could cling to. I won't quote exactly, but she said time did not heal the wounds. She said it sometimes provided scar tissue, and sometimes I have felt that scar tissue form over the wound, but it is very precarious. It can be ripped off as fast as it forms and for some reason, for four years now, I relive the day October 17th, 2015, all over again, scar tissue ripped off. We do the best we can manage. I no longer cry until I cannot breathe, but that peace at the end of losing my breath did not scare me. Come here often. Someone, any one of us is having a hard time at nearly any given time. Some have dropped out, and we remember them, and we miss them.

I've taken my sister around midnight and my granddaughter yesterday morning at 6:00 a..m. Both seen fast, Bri possibly has UTI, but could keep no food down so think she had a stomach virus. She had either 101.2 or 102.1 temp (cannot remember) so I figured we better go. Got seen right away both times and they were very nice. Hope you do not have to go so often Gwen, I feel for you. My daughter took herself at 3:00 a.m. last night. She had lifted too much moving. Cannot hold that gal down. I'm not going to let her move a thing when I move starting November 1st. She has that shot every Monday to build her immune system back up and it gives her a headache for days. I'm sure that radiation to her head did not help things. It seems sometimes "all God's chillens got troubles." (Mama used to say that).

Didn't promise us we would have fun.

Joyce, Gwen, all of you, you are on my minds so often. Gin, where is Gin? So many I wonder where they are now. Kevin, you live in a paradise. Kevin, Kay, Gwen, and where is Cookie in the NC mountains, and so many more. Anyhow, have not had to turn our heat on yet. Know y'all are wet and cold. I don't like October.

I'm so sorry. On the 17th, visions of that morning kept moving like a slow film through my mind. I can remember the moment, the thought of "what do people do when this happens" going through my mind, gotta call our kids, don't know what to do, no, he cannot be gone, no, I'm okay, just "you know" leave me alone, let me think, no, I don't want to think, no this cannot be happening. And then..........it's the 17th.......everyone else thinks it is another day. Someone mentioned "gone for good" and you wonder "why is it 'good?" This whole month has been bad. I dreaded my most favorite month of the year. You will do the same. So will we all. You fall in love with someone, you fuss, you have terrible times, sickness, money problems, other insignificant things that at the moment seemed like mountains. I still, when I am just riding around, going from one place to the next, I think, "well, it would be nice to live there wouldn't it Billy?" Then I think, "been there, done that." I miss my best friend ever. I was/am him, he was/is me. I'm sorry if this month provides a bad time. Your in good/bad company.............we do understand, unfortunately.

I am not a dog person nor a cat person. (This is my own opinion and I made it all up in my tiny brain.) We tend to call cats "she" and dogs "he" or at least maybe that is just me. Cats can be so sweet and at the same time sneaky and jump up on cabinets where a pup, even if he could, he would not jump on the cabinet (probably couldn't) and he would mind you. I tell my son to be careful, women are wily creatures, and of course my daughter, myself, my mom are the only women I noticed and perhaps I was warning him. A dog usually (usually) is good-natured, sweet, and kind. So, I better keep to that old saying "when you're in a hole, quit digging."