Margm

I won't put any pictures, but I followed his history and know he probably suffered from bipolar disorder just as my dad and two kids have it. They said in his manic times he wanted to take over the world and he had advisers that pulled him "off the chandeliers." My daughter will have a radiation and immunotherapy session and that evening, after the throwing up, she will be out partying, taking photographs with her Mardi Gras krewe of choice. Sometimes it makes her so sick she will sleep for two days. I think September 6th is last therapy day and the MRI has come up clear, with only some scarring. Every three months followup, then six months, etc. Her doc at the Cleveland Clinic was in surgery when they brought in her most recent MRI's and she told her "Baby girl, we got rid of that thing." But, back to Winston and his bipolar, his many witticisms, his telling the lady that "mamn, I will be sober in the morning and you will still be ugly" and many more. I followed him mainly for his naming my black dog of depression. I did not get any exotic gifts that some bipolar people get because I just suffer from chronic depression, which I have learned to live with. Antidepressants will just kill me sooner. (Been there and I have done that too). We all have to fight our own battles. Some we win, some we lose. My daughter has won hers for the time being, and I hope forever.

Kay, my last fur baby "Bear," after he was gone, when I would go walking down the dirt road for fitness exercise, I could always hear Bear behind me, panting, because a Chow should never be raised in this hot humid climate. He was always our protector. He had to be with us and chase those big horses behind the fence that went along the little road. Strange phenomenon, he was gone, but I could still hear him. It is like I hear a sound in another room of this apartment and "Billy" pops into my head. Foolish girl, Billy would have never lived in an apartment.

Arkansas is one of the states where the leaves in autumn are famous. Every October we were out with Billy taking the pictures. All of these pictures are stored on another computer, where I am told I can get them out.. If I live long enough I will. He had some beauties, but the "scar tissue" has not grown thick enough to get them. I did not cry going back to the little mountain town with the "rivers running through it" this time at all. No clouds on the way up there, only one tiny soft looking one and reminded me of Johnnie Ray's song "The Little White Cloud That Cried" but I didn't. Huge white fluffy ones coming home. Nothing as spectacular as the rainbow collapsing beside my car. Always gonna be bittersweet reminders. I think it a sad tradition I long ago started by riding around, my little trips, looking at countryside, always been lucky enough to have country right close to where I lived, but lived in the country with Billy. My roots go so far down in this soil a few miles from where I live that on one side of the highway in two different highways the Haynes Road is on one side and the Wise Road is on the other. A few blocks from where I live, in downtown Minden is the tiny cemetery of the first settlers with my great-great-great grandfather having the newest tombstone that another GGGgrandson had placed there. Would have to look at the genealogy page to follow through, daughter named Almedia, lived in a mansion that burned, where the funeral home is now located on the street named after him. Billy's distant relatives owned a plantation up on an old road that takes you to the big bayou waterways the families had used, close to the Red River that empties into the Mighty Mississippi. I am here, they are not, just like Billy, my other relatives and his, only the ghosts remain. I had/have a picture of that old mansion somewhere. So, I am not far away from my family here, some still living, but old like me. New generations sprouted from that tree that I do not know, and they had a celebration and posters made up to the original 6-8 "bridge sitters club" in the little town where Billy came from, his picture is on it and one or two of them are still living. Reminds me of that old Kansas song "Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea All we do crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see Dust in the wind All we are is dust in the wind Do not know why being around all the ghosts gives me some degree of comfort. I still pass by farms and houses that I think "we ought to try living there" and the sad fact hits me in the face, "been there, done that" and I wish for another 54 years with him of promises and dreams. How could our time run out, it was just yesterday.

Yesterday I had to travel back up to old town I moved from. I passed the campground on the river we had began our RV retirement. I remember it was this time of year, we left on the 31st and I think that was the day Princess Diana had died. But on the 29th, yesterday in 1997, we had just arrived. Arkansas had a dry summer and the leaves were falling, from just dying on the tree, not changing color, but at the time it seemed like it was an early autumn. Retirement, RV, me and Billy on a cool moving river that was so clear and coming out of the RV I had the last pure feeling of joy that I can remember having. I was brought up on fairy tales and happily ever after. I had been married long enough to know that was not true, but it truly was smooth sailing for a number of years and then we had to "stand up" and take control of things that could have endangered our grown children. And, that is what we did the rest of our lives. Not just the grown children but other relatives also. Ongoing things. But, I remember that one moment, minutes of pure joy. I don't think I will ever see that again and I am resigned to that fact of life and death. You just keep doing and going until you can't. I'm okay, I'm fat and sassy, but have to figure out how to move to new apartment that has a washer and dryer hookups and two baths as soon as one opens. Just a mile from where I live now, run by the same company, and NO STEPS leading into the apartment. Steps scare me. I can do it, but don't like to. Another word salad served up. Would love to feel joy once more. Marty, I don't know where you are located, but be safe. I think our other forum member has moved out of Florida. If it shifts any, the rest of you be safe too.

I could not believe it. I have never seen this happen, or even hear of it. All of a sudden all strips of color dissolved into the pavement, but it was a wide strip of all the colors.

That is one thing that bothers me, starting all over again after you have done everything they say and obviously you don't know what "department" you are to go to and they tell you "goodbye" and your connection is lost. Then you start all over, if it is that big of an issue and if not, just hang up and forget it. My granddaughter keeps telling me "they can't hear you" when I yell at a robot that tells you "you can tell me your problem, I will help you." I heard my sister have to give her home phone number four times because they could not understand her. They would repeat an off the wall number she had not said. She is an English teacher and her pronunciation of words and numbers is spot on. But, remember, computer "voice recognition" took over my medical transcriptionist job. And, I have to tell this again and again because it is so typical of what computer robots "hear." Doctor says "parentheses" and computer robot types out "bull flatus." Why didn't I just leave it. Why did I clean up the bull crap? After 43 years it was time to retire. No, I edited it because I was no longer a transcriptionist, I was an editor. Well at least the world throws these irritations at us, anger helps sometimes and of course is part of grief. I repeated something to my sister that aggravated me about Billy, and she said, "don't go making yourself angry now, it is all in the past." Yep, it is, but sometimes anger does help a tiny bit. A double rainbow appeared yesterday coming out of Walmart, to the east. The bottom one was such beautiful colors. Then the gray clouds and rain deluge took the rainbow away and something about nature I had never seen before. The bottom rainbow came down and the vapor dissolved in front of and beside my car while I was waiting to turn. That kept the vibrant color and width until it hit the ground. It was like magic. I looked to the Heavens and I said "you did that just for me, didn't you Billy." (No pot of gold though).

“If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans. You’ve nothing to worry about there.” ― James Herriot, All Creatures Great and Small I'm just now reading this Kay, and like with all the other, no words help. I am so sorry.

I read Martin Short's autobiography a couple of years ago. It struck me in a way that I was feeling things. I felt like I could reach over and touch Billy's arm, knowing the feel of his anatomy more than my own. I remembered the scars, he was tall and not really skinny, but I could feel his bones and touch his high cheek bones above his beard, and I can still feel him, but yet he is not there.......but he is. I talk to him, less really than I did. Perhaps my widow friend was right, "your still young in your grief." Her husband had been gone over 10 years. Yesterday a "friend" from my "before Billy" days was mentioned and my only action/feeling was a recoil, a disgust, and that made me sort of sad. He was a good guy, but there had already been and always would be only one "good guy." In Martin Short's book he was still having imaginary cocktails with his deceased wife after she was gone. He carried on his regular witty conversations with her, imagined her replies and he said he knew the conversation would end, but he had to ask it, "where are you Nancy" and she quit talking to him until the next evening. This morning, the king sized bed, the old fashioned real king sized bed, I had the comforter on that Billy had loved. He thought it was beautiful. I reached over and a part of the cover was doubled over and I could feel his arm with the scar from an old accident, then I felt the comforter. In my belief, he is waiting on me. My son had been shot and coded twice on the OR table to be revived, taken back to his room to await surgery when he was stronger. He had a NDE that showed him light, people he knew, but did not know how he knew them, they were all loving to him and he wanted to stay, but they said he couldn't. He told me his dad (Billy) was waiting for me and I would know him, and I "want to feel" he will be there for me. As he used to ask "why do you believe like you do" and he was satisfied with my answer "because I have to." He had helped me so many times with my faith, and now at age 77, I feel I am closer to him than I was shortly after he left. I have to believe that. I have noticed I did some things in shock after Billy left. It has to be a shock akin to losing the use of your anatomy after a stroke. It is a shock I cannot explain, and do not try to. I won't find him in a coverlet on my bed, I feel closer to him when the moon is full, I talk to the moon, I feel closer in the white billowing clouds. I have no real explanation. We find solace where we can. All of us different, all of us the same, and after nearly four years, the shock is still with me. Will be the rest of my days. And yes, I still cry. Sometimes when I am alone it seems endless and I don't want to quit. Other times I cry, cannot talk, during a TV show or ridiculous commercial. I keep a roll of paper towels by the recliner, and my family, all of them, are used to this. I was telling my sister (and she has a new car, hooray), about something that had made me so angry at Billy. She said it was no use to me to get angry at him now, he was not here. I told her it did not help him, but it helped me sometimes to get angry at him. I cannot stay that way, but sometimes we do things that do not make any sense at all just to protect ourselves.......for a moment.

Really not a time for me to write about my past fur babies. I am sorry Kay and I know this is tearing you up. My heart is with you..

Kay, it is so hard to let go. I was not letting go of Billy. That is why I hit his hands down when they reached for me. He was hurting so bad. I don't know if I can ever let go, but how much more humane to save your loved fur babies from the extreme pain we humans have to go through. They just go into a peaceful sleep that we also wish we could do. Daddy had prostate cancer. My pastor's dad had prostate cancer and he told Mama it would be a cruel inhumane death. Mama got angry at the pastor (and frankly, I did not blame her). We suffer along with our loved ones. I held Billy in my arms while he puked his insides out. In the ER they did nothing for him. He was sitting in a corner with me surrounding him, holding him, putting as much morphine into him I could get him to keep down, yet when we take our fur babies in, they slip them a shot and they leave us in a painless way. So unselfish of us to want their peace. How selfish of humanity to let our loved ones hurt in the most impossible way. My dad had decubitus ulcers on his heels where he had dug down against the pain. We kept vigil by their bed because they could not give enough morphine to kill them, just enough that we sitting by their sides would pray to God, please let that be the last breath, but no, moments later a deep breath and we would start all over again. My mama said something very humane, very intelligent, "why can't we give our loved ones Heroin, they will still meet the same end, but possibly they would not hurt so bad, possibly their waking moments would have a more "feel good" high than the laborious Cheyne-Stokes breathing that we can only hope is their last. You will miss your fur baby terribly, but he will not leave you hurting himself, he will just sleep. I have heard of them, now I know of one case they brought in one of the "Angels of Mercy" for a friend of mine, for her husband. Who am I to judge?

And, what business is it for anyone to criticize you for anything you do for you or yours, anything of yours? Murmurings are just things said when people put their foot in their mouth, or maybe in this case type with their toes. You take care of your house, your fur baby, your life like you would do if no one ever said anything. No one else but your business. Like our grieving, that is the path that we walk and no one else can do it for us. No recommendations to you for your fur baby, he has a big smile on his face, he is well fed, it is your property, and I hope he lives out his life with all the love that you give, with as little pain as possible. For two years, on my back road to Walmart there is a small black dog that runs between three roads. I cannot have animals here, and he has a collar on him. I do know the traffic is slow for the country setting of the big nice homes on those roads and I have to believe he belongs to one of these houses. If he didn't, he would have his ribs showing and he is very well fed. I can only surmise he belongs to one of these families and probably gets out of the yard, and they are all fenced yards, nice homes. But, he is going to be hit by a car, I'm afraid, yet he has been doing this for 2-3 so I can only hope he is traffic savvy. You also are gossip savvy, and I am sure you take such things with a grain of salt, so to speak. No one's business. Your fur baby is well fed, has a beautiful smile, and you know to ignore stupid people.

He looks like he has a permanent smile. Good pictures Kay.

I'm so sorry about the fur babies. Kelli's Nawlin's had a high fever, had a seizure, tiny poodle that is getting on up there in age. Kelli having the radiation every day and it making her ill, throwing up, sores in her mouth. Nawlin's would just die if she was away from Kelli, has to be touching her at all times. The vet gave her medicine, think a steroid, and it caused reactions. At least now she is sleeping it off, both of them. We went to see "Mamma Mia" at the big city theater and none of us got to bed until the a.m. hours so everyone slept it off except Brianna who could not sleep. Just want Kelli to sleep all day, Nawlin's too. Kelli got 24 red roses from an anonymous source (for her birthday) so she gave a rose to everyone in her apartment that meet downstairs each night. I never remember July having but 31 days, but I swear this month has 61. I hope for peace for all of you. Things really get hectic.

He was called "Billy the Kid" because he loved to get presents. The kids loved celebrating his birthday more than their own. They miss him terribly. I see them nearly every day. They are only a little over a mile from me. Kelli washes my clothes, they have W/D in their apartments. Somewhere along the way in life the celebrations of my own dates became a bother for me. I think I am like my mom's mother. She is famous for going through the motions and keeping all the gifts she got in one chest of drawers. Next Christmas she wrapped each gift (already given to her, never taken out of the box, or however it was wrapped, and she would just re-gift it back to them. She didn't have to shop and there were so many grandchildren sometimes she would run out of gift wrap and finish up with toilet paper, and a bow. More than one time one of the girls was heard to say "she gave me the gift I gave her last year." One day is the same as the others, you feel the absence each day. I know we all do.

Trying not to be too dramatic today. This was his last birthday cake and he was gone less than three months later. Even at this time we didn't know he was even sick. Doc twice a year, more if I detected anything wrong. Lab work obviously was looked at nothing but urinary function, but full lab work. By this time his liver was gone. His back hurt enough we did go to the doctor, we knew he had herniated disks. We were ready for the fast surgery that he gets out of hospital overnight. No fear. My mind would not accept what I heard and would tell him nothing but we would have another miracle, we both had stood on the precipice of death more than three times and did not fall off. He fell this time fast. My old slow man, slow walking, slow moving, he just disappeared...........and I am getting dramatic. He is gone. I'm still here for right now. I have a picture somewhere on this blog with us both standing on a bridge, him on one side, me on the other. All I have to do is move to his side. This is just another day, just like yesterday, just like tomorrow, but we are not promised tomorrow, are we?

Today is my husband's birthday. Yes, this is a club no one wants to join. Please browse all the posts in all the column's, your twin is here, you have never met her/him, but she/he is here in hundreds of different forms and posts. My heart is with you. We loved so much, we grieve so much harder. I'm sorry. No words can comfort, but you have many fellow grievers walking the path right beside yours, because we cannot walk the same one. We cannot see you, but we can reach out and touch you.

Kay, you were restrained away from him. I have no excuse except disbelief. I'm so sorry you were kept away. It was just me and Billy and God in that room and God decided to show me I was not boss. I think shock made me think I was in charge. One time a road mower threw a rock into Billy's side window. The glass shattered but stayed in one place, and I learned the meaning of safety glass. It shook me up so bad, he would have been killed. He knew how much he meant to me. His little tall, lanky body had taken all it could in the ER and he was puking his guts out with me feeding him the morphine. I hope it helped him. Any pain our partners felt at that time of leaving us, we have felt every day since. I see my sister hating marriage (she lived with my folks a lot longer than I did), and her determination not to have a mate of any sort, now she is alone with only me and my kids. Her disposition repels close friendship, like my mom's did. And I don't remember which poet said it, (not gonna google it), but it is so much better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. We miss them, we loved them, we feel guilt, we feel loneliness, sometimes anger, but at one time our life was full, we knew happiness of love and being loved in return. Some do not have that ever. I was talking about reading on another forum and mentioned that my new husband was jealous of my books at first, until I got him to reading. Innocent statement, but I had to go back and put in parentheses (new husband in 1961), and thought it rather comical that someone at my age, depth of my marriage would be mistaken to have a "new" husband. I even heard from a long lost relative. After so many years, good and bad, how could you marry again without unfair comparison. Some do, but they are a lot younger than I am and did not marry as a child and grow up into an adult along with that husband. I'll quit backtracking and say some can, some cannot.

Billy's whole system was enveloped with cancer. I typed transcription for 43 years. I thought I knew something. I did know black letters typed on white paper somewhere in a million patient's charts. I did not know Billy was leaving me. I even angrily hit his hands when he was telling me he had to go when he had his one big .......I'm at a loss for words. Impossible for me to be at a loss for words. I hit his hands and told him "NO!!!" and he did not listen to me. He left anyhow. I wanted to go first. Dammit, I was always the sickest. He had to take care of me so many times through life or death times. We were going to have another miracle. He could not give up. But he did. He had to, and three years and nine months later I am still here. I think the guilt sometimes is forgot for moments and days at times. Then, there it is and I say to those low hanging clouds "I cannot believe you left me." But he did, and it was not on purpose, and I would not talk about how sick he was with him, he knew. He knew I knew. That man was so slow and lanky with his movements, never in a hurry, always there to take my anxiety away. I really have let up on myself a lot over this time, and you will too. We just miss them so much. You love a lot, you hurt a lot.

I saw it too Gwen. We usually watch good ones twice (sometimes the 2nd time comes kinda new). Goes along with the age I guess.

Kevin, love these pictures. Hope the world is treating you right. Hope your enjoying your new home. Hope springs eternal. (Those children, those eyes, beautiful).

Katie girl, don't ever think any of us forget you. You, my dear, are thought of probably more often than anyone on here. We all suffer, but we recognize your suffering also, and we don't forget. Can never forget. It is seeing your strength that supplies each of us with faith to take the next step.

You are one of the "Angel's Unaware" that should have more honor given them. But we don't do things for honor, that is what makes "Angels Unaware." This was the name of the book written by Dale Evans, wife of Roy Rogers. I also have Billy Graham's book on Angels. I know you do not go by my belief, but you are still an Angel, whether you believe it or not. Graham said angels are a mystery to many people because they do not have physical bodies. However, he said, on occasion angels appear as ordinary humans or glorious celestial beings that reflect the majesty of God. And, I know that is too thick for you to swallow, but Marty is an Angel, also Kay and George, and those many that contribute to help those that need help. They are just unaware of being Angels. Hettie, my neighbor, was my Angel. All this is stated as my opinion.

Tell her you like your anxiety pills just fine. We cannot even get them in Louisiana except to make a visit each month and get a paper script. I go back to my old PCP. I trusted them for 20 years. They are the ones who found my ruptured colon. My daughter wrote up one of the PCP's because she insisted she take a medication she was allergic to. Of course they fired my daughter. She is a former nurse and is difficult to treat, but I'm difficult too. I know what I need and I know what will kill me. My daughter referred to me as Dr. (last name) and her doc said he had never heard of me. She told him I had been a medical transcriptionist for 43 years and thought I knew a little something. He said........"she does." I know how I don't want to be treated and if they have a problem with it, I go back to my old PCP who knows me.

Kay, I never cleaned the fish. That was something Billy always did. My mom cleaned them too. I have two of Billy's fillet knives and he would slice the sides of those big bass and catfish off, but we also ate the various pan fish too. Somehow fishing is a part of our past I cannot continue without him. I read his books and feel closer, but maybe it is because I don't want to clean the fish, and maybe it is because as southerners we put our fish in cornmeal to cover them to fry. I cannot have cornmeal and have used flour once and it is not the same. I was not allergic to peanut butter but got sick when I was pregnant with one of my kids and it would make me nauseated all these many years later, so discarded the eating of peanut butter. Strange, I tried it recently (I am allowed smooth peanut butter), and it did not make me sick. So, another fattening thing my low residue diet allows that I love again. Brianna was allergic to fish when she was younger (shellfish), but orders it occasionally now. Did you know the Royal Family will not eat shellfish because of the possibility of someone getting sick from it. (Just a tidbit of useless knowledge).

Most of the time Gwen. The thing is, I taught him how to fish. He knew about setting out poles on the bank for catfish, but he had never fished with rod and reel. He taught himself the different fly fishing techniques though and tied his own flies. I never cared for that much trouble. One night fishing Toledo Bend, we fished into the morning and I had bruises all over my belly where I had to rest the handle so I could pull in the fish. I did catch more than him sometimes. My mom was funny about fishing, if she did not catch more she would quit fishing. My great grandmother Margaret, when we had fish fries on the creek (yep, I'm country), if she did not catch any fish she would not eat with the rest of us.