Margm

Kay, I was hurt by two couples that had been mine and Billy's friends in the early years, then we all moved on and lived our own lives. We may have seen each other sometimes or the other in all those years but they are not remembered. Yet they were very cold to me when I returned "home." In fact, my hugger, Billy's friend who should have been a politician, he did not even act like he remembered me, certainly did not acknowledge I was even there. What did I want from them? Maybe just to validate that we had lived and been friends for over 50 years. Later on I figured out my "hugger" friend has dementia. I doubt he remembered me. The other husband had one stroke, then had another. I went to see them both, he and his wife, in the nursing home across town. I saw her at the grocery store and asked how he was. She was rather flippant, but we all take things different. Her flippancy only hid the sorrow inside she had for well over 50 years of marriage and "he will never leave the nursing home alive." She suffers the loss of him every day, over and over. I have sorrow for my friends. One cousin posts things on FB that show she is a prisoner in her own home, sometimes I hear resentment, she is now a caretaker to the man she married over 50 years ago. We are in grief, she is imprisoned in grief and in actuality all we can do is tell them we care. This is their path. Your friends that ignored the funeral, death will touch them too. They will not notice that you do not come to the funeral. I've never believed in funerals, but that is just me. Now, the way the Irish do it with drinks and partying at a pub to "honor" the life that is now gone, but we will remember with a drink and a laugh about the happy times, that sounds more like what I would want, but like the story of the bug who lived in the water, the ones who noticed other bugs were leaving to never return, when he left he developed wings that would not allow him to return to the world below, so he flew off care free. A child's story but my hope and faith. And finally, a childhood friend that is dying, he returns an answer to my letter to him. I do not tell him about losing my husband to cancer, as he has it also. They were all told when I lost Billy, so all my friends knew. When he signed it "I love you, Billy" I knew it was from my friend, but I held it to my heart as if it was a secret message from my Billy. But this Billy, married many years, his wife will suffer the grief we all suffer. I do not know her, but I hope she finds the help of friends and people we have never met, the people who understand, our friends on this forum who know "what to say."

Among the Shuswaps of British Columbia widows and widowers in mourning are secluded and forbidden to touch their own head or body; the cups and cooking vessels which they use may be used by no one else. [...] No hunter would come near such mourners, for their presence is unlucky. If their shadow were to fall on anyone, he would be taken ill at once. They employ thorn-bushes for bed and pillow, in order to keep away the ghost of the deceased; and thorn bushes are also laid all around their beds.[1] Among the Agutainos, who inhabit Palawan, the Philippines, a widow may not leave her hut for seven or eight days after the death; and even then she may only go out at an hour when is not likely to meet anybody, for whoever looks upon her dies a sudden death. To prevent this fatal catastrophe, the widow knocks with a wooden peg on the trees as she goes along, thus warning people of her dangerous proximity; and the very trees on which she knocks soon die."[2] I read a lot of Native American mysteries. I have to thank God we do not meet these people in Walmart. (Of course this came from Wikipedia, or I would not be writing, I would have thrown myself on Billy's burning pirogue as it was pushed into Dorcheat Bayou. Our maintenance man's son passed away last week. (another story I hope I'm not repeating). He was in his 30's. We most all had incidences with hospitals, ER's, physicians, that if things had been different, we know our loved one would still be here. Our insurance/health system is so messed up that I got saved when by all rights, I should have died, and Billy died when he should/could have been saved. This young man, because of lack of money, I am almost sure, let a regular old cut turn into an infection that killed him. With just a tiny bit of proper care he would be alive. I worked for two "not for profit" hospitals though, and people do not think they can afford care. In all actuality, they cannot. You have your "proud" people that will not ask, so they die. I'm getting a little political here, so I will quit. But, in a real equal society, that boy would have received medical care. I do not know Canadian medical care, and I am sure there are instances even in free care for everyone that mistakes happen. What I am getting at, what I am saying is this, and I think Ana repeated something I had said a long time ago. Your friends, your psychologists, your psychiatrists, your counselors, and your neighbors, if their own feet have not touched the flames of death/grief, they do not know what to say, so forgive them. No book teaches you what life/death teaches you. I am speaking from experience of something I said to a friend/cousin, after her husband died suddenly in his sleep. I can still remember what I said to her, but she is one of my best friends these 20 years later. She forgave my bad choice of words, seems to have forgotten, but I have not forgotten and will not bring it up. I had lost aunts, cousins, grandparents, my father, but I did not know true grief until I lost Billy, and for the people on here who have lost children also, my feet have only felt the flames, I have not walked on the burning coals, but you have. You can only hold out your arms and hold these friends and say "I'm sorry" because no words from any book on grief etiquette will tell you what to say that will help. It takes time to see the changes of the seasons even. I still will not watch a movie from 2015, will not read a book published in 2015, and a lot more taboo's I impose upon myself. I did my DNA and had no Native American blood. But, my ancestors were the Vikings, so I will have to remember I do not live in either of those civilizations and will just say "I'm sorry." (And to those who have been here awhile, I still know how to write those word salads). And to those that are new, I learned what a word salad was after 15 years of psychotherapy. And this was a long time before I knew what grief really was. (Written at 1:49 a.m. Sunday). My little ole fellow was sitting at his wife's grave today in his lawn chair. I didn't stop this time. I was married 54 years, and I consider myself lucky. He was married 61 years, she passed away three years ago and he is there often. We all walk above those flames but we still feel the pain. I did not inquire, but he may have walked on the coals also. I will not interrupt his visit again. It is his time with his wife.

I am repeating, I am old, I am ancient, but this old heart still beats. I see older folks holding hands and where I used to think "that is so sweet" now I think "oh no, they are gonna hurt so bad" and I want to cry. The other day (and please, I hope I am not repeating this, I do this sometimes, often), I kept seeing this man in his lawn chair sitting in front of a grave. (A graveyard up the road from where I live) I stopped. It turns out she had been gone three years, like Billy, and he still comes and talks to her. He was not ashamed. They had been married 61 years. I hugged him and told him "thank you, I still talk to my Billy" and then I left.

Y'all all, the temperatures are variable down south, we actually had snow flakes the other day. (Don't even need a jacket today). Our education systems sometimes are at the bottom of the 50 states but I actually think we have a good group of people, some are locked into old fashioned ways (me included.) One friend/cousin (yeah, like my granddaughter said, "she's probably your cousin") went to see "A Star is Born." Folks, even some of us slower humans knows this is the 4th remake of this movie. Well, she criticized some of the words/speech and love scenes. I am so jaded I did not hear anything bad, or see anything bad. I knew the ending. I went for the music. And, yes, I did have to get bitchy and say "you realize it was R rated." From the way the news is going, I don't think your in danger of having a scene from "Deliverance" happen. I think that is happening everywhere but here (and please God, don't make me eat those words.) I actually think you have to be born here though. It might be like traveling to a foreign country. Somehow it is gentle, although some people still do not accept the Confederacy lost the war.. We are (some of us) really kinda backward, but traveling from North Louisiana to South Louisiana is like going to another state, and I get kinda scared around alligator hunters and if I eat Gumbo and Jambalaya, I would prefer to make it so I know what animal I am eating. On second thought, maybe y'all better stay where you are. But, I love you all anyhow. Bless your hearts.

I realize the majority of you are so much younger than I am. I joined a society of women and men from friends, neighbors and old classmates. The majority of these people had lost their mate and some had remarried. I know I have had things said to me, probably the cruelest was "you are still young in your grief." That was the only thing I was young in though. We have two women that keep in touch with all the classmates they can find that are still alive. We have lost so many. As Hettie, my neighbor widow, in Arkansas told me "We are both at the age we will lose our classmates." I was crying for the little boy I remembered at age 17-18, and who passed away probably in his early 70's, all those years later. Strange, I remembered the boy. I went to the grave of an old boyfriend who was killed in an accident 57 years ago. Most of you are not even 57 years old now, and if he had lived, he would be 75 now. But in my mind I still see him catching passes on the football field and being named all state in three sports. We were told of one of our classmates with his cancer returned and for us to write him. I told him who I was, in case he forgot not having seen each other in 58 years. I wanted to tell him of the battle I had fought with my cancer, the many years, the many fights and how the treatment I had received gave me many years of life but nearly killed me four years ago, and another battle fought and won. He wrote back that of course he remembered me and my freckles. He told me of his battle with his cancer. His name is Billy. He signed it "I love you, Billy" and just those words. I did not think I would quit crying. If someone stops you and insists on talking, on asking you questions, smile and lie like hell to them and say "I'm just fine." Of course you will never be that kind of "just fine" again, but it certainly stops questions. If they keep asking questions, unless they are magicians, and even if they are magicians, they have nothing to offer you. A shoulder to cry on??? That is why we come to this forum. Maybe being old has its imperfections, but somehow other people's responses are not one of them. We simply do not care. Walk away or do like I do and say "I'm fine" while passing by.

I think there are eight apartments in this complex that have fireplaces. Mine is one of them, but I took it because it was the first to come open. The last two houses we had had fireplaces with electric fans (of some sort) that would blow the heat into the house. You could build a huge fire in them though and somehow, if the electricity went off, without that electric apparatus, you just as well have a steel wall in front of you because they would not keep the house warm. In New Mexico, my brother-in-law put one log in the wood burning heater and it kept the room warm all night. I have not lit a fire in this fire place here, we have central heat, and probably if I had Billy, I might, but I don't without him. Funny/odd/ironic/sad how some things make you remember, "we were going to get a place with a wood burning stove." That sort of hit me the other night in questioning my granddaughter about the future and she mentioned "dreams." That made me remember, we still had dreams, but now they are called memories.

Why. I'd be plum insulted if someone tried to top my brand of mentality. Brianna seems to Think we have too many cousins marrying. She says she was glad to be adopted and most of her cousins were still in Thailand. She laughs cause my first "crush" was a 4th cousin named Homer. He did not share same feelings.

Kay, my granddaughter has been hypothyroid since age 8, probably even before. She will say "Mamol, are you cold?" "Mamol, are you hot?" My temperature actually remains about the same. If I am too cool, I will put on a sweater, if I am too hot, will pull it off. Living with her is like living with a menopausal woman year round. She takes levothyroxine and has her levels checked often. Just one of the joys of hypothyroidism. This thermostat has something to push on top with numbers resulting and something on bottom, with numbers resulting. I miss Billy for so many reasons. I could not find anything to switch it from cold to heat and kept poking things with my finger. Viola, a punch in the middle kind of opened a little door. I pulled on it and now we have heat or cool. (That was when we first moved in.) Sometimes in summer I will pull the icicles off my nose and Brianna has punched numbers. I do have her an electric throw blanket, one for Kelli too, because Kelli is hypothyroid also.

My magical thinking mother would say "if wishes were horses, beggars would ride." My more down to earth mother-in-law would say "wish in one hand and _______t in the other and see which one fills up the fastest". I would hope if that was possible, after three years, I would sure try perfecting that picture, but since I have a hard time with a thermostat, I cannot even conjure up feeling him close to me in the past few months. I looked up at the clouds today, they were hanging heavy and cold like my heart and I told Billy that he is only a wishful memory and I missed him terribly. He used to be able to pinch with big toe and next toe. I wear socks in winter. So many things to miss.

Katie-girl, please listen to Ana. Ask for help, you deserve it. Life is hard but one day you will see the sun, you will see the flowers and the aspens changing colors. I don't know how many years it will take, but please just hang on and when it gets too hard ask for help. Please.

Tom, I guess anyone with my low intelligence should be able to operate a thermostat. This is true. Billy would explain (he was so gentle), but I was going to understand!!! Only, I never could. Billy took the time to draw me a picture and tape it beside the thermostat. I don't have that picture anymore.....either.

It will not stay. I will wallow in this mud until I get tired of me. Then color will replace this dark gray.

We had one Halloweenie. My light was off. We did not answer the door. I had forgot to buy candy and if it is laying around, it is usually mine. Dee, I'm sorry about your fur baby. I hope things turn out okay. Do not like to see babies or fur babies hurt. Changed the clocks. That was Billy's job but he has quit doing "his jobs." He used to would say about dishes, trash, etc. "That's my job" and woe to anyone who stacked dishes in left sink. He would fuss. Left sink clean, dishes in right. I find myself doing the same, but he used dishwasher, I don't.

Really, I have felt quite smug about things. I talk to Billy in the clouds, I conjure up a picture of him standing where I can see him, I am surrounded by family and friends, I am doing great. Then I meet someone new. No, not some other person, I meet myself right now and I do not know me. I am angry often. Daughter wants to know if she has said something. Granddaughter sorta stays clear of "me." I feel empty. Not grieved, just numb empty. I feel totally useless. I do not want to do anything. I am a voracious reader, just finished seven books in a series of fiction taken in the historic 800's. Found lots of fault and had to make myself finish this series. Bought Sally Field's autobiography, which (to me) was a self-centered piece of trash. I have to give it to her, she was ridding herself of her demons. She did, and it was a waste of 400 pages, but maybe it made her feel better, and perhaps I should have not read Burt Reynold's autobiography first. I am biased. Cannot get started on another book. (All on Kindle). Can I change my mad dog personality? I'm not sure I know how. I don't even talk to Billy. As per usual, I looked it up on Google and came up with this below from something called "Grief in Common" and delayed grief. "Prior to loss you probably experienced the healing nature of time. After a surgery or illness, after a fight with a friend, following a traumatic event…in almost every one of those cases we can say that while other things may have contributed to the recovery, it was time itself that ultimately made the difference. But the rules are different in grief. Rather than experiencing improvement as a steady climb that could be charted on a graph, most grievers will say their emotions and coping are predictable only in that they are totally unpredictable. While there is no predictable path for coping after loss, there is a whole section of grievers who face the unexpected experience of delayed grief…and for them the question becomes “why?”. As in “why am I having a harder time coping now than I did before?”. It has been three years in October. I thought I was doing good but I do not seem to know this person in my body. Seems dramatic. Maybe they will make me lose weight, but I do not seem to have the impetus to make myself move/ambulate. I knew to get the physical therapy scheduled through my clinic, though with my insurance I think I could have had it scheduled myself, but then I would not go. And the grief.........I don't know if I am grieving Billy or grieving myself. Just an empty, fat, hollow body. Let me go eat some more ice cream.

I cannot swim and my responsibilities just keep my head above water. The bipolar moods of my kids frighten me, for them, but honestly, bipolar is not all that it is made out to be on TV. With Scott it has always been the depression. With Kelli, it is her temper sometimes but leaving the situation she has been in for 11 years, leaving a known habit (not drugs) but abusive person (and my daughter could dish it out also. ) Dealing with my granddaughter's fears (and this world provides many) down to "what if" and I finally hit the wall yesterday and said "what if on our way to Shreveport we were broadsided in that little car" "what if, what if what if." I don't think I helped. I try to leave that to the counselor and yes, it was caused by my daughters many moves, taking her out of schools, Billy (her daddy) dying, and the world as a whole. I had wanted to leave, I cannot keep myself from leaving, but it seems it is necessary to stay. My little poem "I'm not that important, life does go on, if I was not here, then I'd be gone" simplistically comes into play. And, I cannot leave out my sister, who I know lost her nearly paid for car through her fog of alcohol. (2003 until six months ago), and I didn't even have my head screwed on enough to know this. She gets her 6 month chip tomorrow (at least I think it was that). I am heartless, my mama was mean and she would have been in a nursing home if I was an only child. But, we finalized the papers of Mama's succession and my signing everything over to her last week or so, and if she can get a car will go back to work in January. The house is falling down around her with neither of us strong enough to fix anything and not enough money to hire it done. Same things most of us are facing, some differences. My daughter takes my clothes, washes them, folds them up, brings them home to me. Can I fuss???? My son moves here tomorrow. I pray things go smooth. Money is all I can do to help, and I put back money to help with his move. Sometimes at the end of the month we are barely hanging on. But we are still here. There are those with a lot more problems. On this forum, there are those that are not as blessed as I am yet all day yesterday I was like an angry person. It was just like I was an empty person, depended on, maybe needing to be depended on, but of limited funds both financially and mentally.

Gwen, I am on a "low residue diet" because of the colon rupture. I can have all the bad things but no fresh or canned veggies, no salads, plenty of white bread, cakes, ice cream, just nothing with fiber count. But still, I could lose weight, I've done it before. One paranoid idea I had was if I was losing weight the cancer had returned. Now I think I can control it if I just get a hold of it. I am not on a walker or cane yet and if I get an elliptical, I can lose the weight. I just have not cared about anything enough to try to. Lots of reasons to try but sometimes the emptiness fills up the time more than anything else, like not opening any of these boxes and not knowing what is in them. I just bought what I needed as I needed it to keep from using anything "we" used. Guess we all have our eccentricities. Thanks for making me feel better about the vaccines. My clinician was waiting for me to okay it.

I have been so cranky and mean lately. I don't know what to say "I'm sorry" for except just being. Been needing more and more sleep. Finally went in about the pneumonia vaccine I have never had and will get it Monday, the first one. Next year I will get the Pneumovax 23. Monday the Prevnar 13. I guess having the bronchitis scared me. Also signed up for physical therapy since I have "tin man syndrome" from Wizard of Oz. I have my Ensure in the morning, take my supplements, but even if I just eat a sandwich and nothing else I will gain weight because I am not burning up more calories than I'm taking in and It has me worried, so I have literally got to get up off my fat behind and do something. I let my elliptical go to someone who just scooped it up, free, and my mind was on nothing I was doing. Okay, will be my Christmas present to me. Walking is good, but if I get too far from the house and things happen that I am too far away to do anything about............well, TMI. If I have to stay, just as well give it a whirl. Clouds out everywhere today but I did not talk to my Billy. Have you ever just felt unnecessary?

Cannot imagine your pain. I found this place three days after Billy left, and since I had a plan to carry out that sounded like my only way out, I'm glad I found this place. You have people that are not looking into your eyes, you can say anything you want to and we will be here for you. Losing more than one loved one is unfathomable, but please read more. You have our support, even though you cannot see us, and you can tell it like you feel it. This is a special place. Cannot say welcome, but will say I'm glad you found us........and I am so sorry for your loss.💗💗💗

Katie-girl, none of us can imagine the pain you are going through. None of us can take the load off your young shoulders with words or with deeds. All we can do is be here for you to share your hurt, and I am sure even the amount of hurt you have gone through, we cannot take any of that hurt away. Please, I hope you have friends and close family that are there with you. There is a poem written by someone about footsteps on the beach and walking along with Jesus. The person asks why did Jesus desert them when all they saw was one set of foot prints. Jesus said he had not deserted them, that was the time when he was carrying them. My prayer is that Jesus will carry you now. And, I know some people believe this is a fairy tale, but I am one with loss of faith that got some relief from thinking Jesus was carrying me. I am not a religious fanatic, I have lost so much of my faith, but I know it is there waiting for me. I cannot even imagine your loss, it is so far out of the realm of my understanding, but I hope some pastor can make you feel Jesus carrying you. At one time in my life I felt totally adrift from my faith. There was a bar in the motel we were staying in for my treatments at the big cancer hospital. I was so frightened, I was not a drinker, but I told my husband I had to have liquid courage because God had forsaken me. Then my husband, who once questioned my reasons for my faith, he reminded me of the shepherd who had 100 sheep. He lost one and he left those 99 other sheep to go after the one. God had sent me an Angel in the form of my own Billy. Sometimes I struggle with my faith, but know if I could talk to Billy I would find it again. But I cannot talk to him and have him answer. And, when I need it the most, it is not there, and talking to pastors has not helped. I know this is about religion, and we are not supposed to discuss religion or politics, but these are just my honest feelings. My mom would mention the "Peace that passes all understanding" and we all need that, some want it, some do not believe in it. Some of us try to hold on to it. "I'm struggling" was just two words and we humans cannot understand the depths of your struggles, we do know it must be 10-fold the amount we are struggling. I wish you peace our Katie girl. We love you.

You have come to a good place. I found it three days after Billy left. I knew I had to have people that understood. I had understanding friends and family, but the people here on this forum understand grief. Keep talking. Sometimes it helps not to be seen but just pour your heart out. We are here. 💗

My heart is with you and all our other lonely, empty thoughts. I went to pick up my sister and she was talking about the clouds shape. I did not even look. I did not talk to Billy. The other day all I could see was blue sky and I said, well, guess i won't talk to you today, and then today I was oblivious. I hope the nursing home treats you better, they are being mean to their patients

I started in a group, it involved all grief and mine hurt but somehow the other grief shared from the others made me feel worse. I talked to two separate pastors of two separate churches, cannot say separate faith because we shared that. I saw their lips moving. I didn't hear anything. I have not searched any more yet. Until I am ready to listen there is no need to go. My son moves back down here this week. I am glad of that. When he calls I hear Billy. When he talks I hear Billy. My daughter took after her Nanny, her Maw, and her aunt. But everyone says she looks like me. Poor kid. Middle aged kid. Gosh I am ancient.

Hobby??? Do you get paid for all these years of volunteering? No, you seem to get annoyance from staff instead of an appreciation.. You are taken for granted and really, if you wanted to show them, then you and your fellow volunteers do not show up for 2-3 days in a row. How would you have time for a hobby, you already give your time away to a staff that owes you more appreciation than you get. But, if you did not volunteer, you would be letting the patients that only have one relief during the day and that is seeing you and your fellow volunteers. Someone, somewhere (not this forum) was talking about appreciating silence. I hate silence, that is why I love my apartment. I try to fill that huge void in my head and heart with words from books, I do not want to think, I do not want silence. Heart still with y'all. 💗💗💗

We cannot get rid of months, days, or hours, not even seconds. We can get through them and treat them any way that makes us feel defiant, better, or no feeling at all. We do what each of us has to do, what each of us can handle, and there is certainly no making us feel good about it other than another day is gone. No rhyme, lots of reason.

Katie-girl, so proud of your fighting spirit. Very happy you are with your two boys. Thank you for letting us hear from you.