Margm

Friday is the 1st. I get to buy my August birthday present September 1st. This is one to myself. A new PC. I hated the Dell laptop. My fingers don't fit the keys. (Gave it to Scott).I actually unscrewed things on my other PC (it was old), and that part of the PC fell down into the computer. I could not get it back up so I used my big Kindle. It had a keyboard attached until I sat on it. Honestly, when these hips sit on something, you have to know some damage is going to be done. I broke the keyboard. I had bought a very nice cover for it when I first got it. Do you know after months time I walked straight to it. Must have had divine guidance. I think green was Billy's favorite color. Now, isn't that pitiful. I cannot remember for sure. Now I have put it in the nice cover and it is beautiful and I will use it for reading, only. My friend gave me her extra PC. You do not look a gift horse in the mouth, and I am typing on it right now, but last night it would not type.........I....don't.....know. I am not computer literate. I am like that chicken that plays the piano. Put a piece of corn on the keys and I will hit them. You all have a good night, I hope, as much as can be had, please. Do whatever it is that makes you feel good right now cause there is not much. I had gained four more pounds, so I guess you know what I like. I made a trip up to a strange town in Arkansas, had to go for business. Wrote down directions and went straight to it. Well, actually that is a lie. I made two wrong turns but was able to turn around in the middle of the road in that Yaris. No traffic, flat roads here in Louisiana. Ditches can be boggy, but that Yaris turns on a dime. All-in-all, pretty good. Now, I like to get on the road and just head out, but if there is an appointment time, I cannot enjoy the ride at all. My word salad offering tonight. You all, I wish you peace, just a little space in time of peace. My heart is with you.

I will never forget breaking down in J.C. Penney's, in front of the clerk, and I was inconsolable. I had bought a purse with our (our) first retirement check, and he was not here for me to show it to. It is big enough that I have his compartment. Everything they sent home from the hospital is in that compartment. His socks. Even his billfold with $1 in it. I felt so guilty that I only let him carry $1. He always depended on me to buy it if it was bought, except his Copenhagen. He would buy a six pack at a time (or 5, I don't remember), but this one was never opened, he had quit wanting it and then had no need for it. First thing I got rid of. I know this is off subject. This damn PC makes me change my password every time I go into anything. A friend gave me hers until I get my new one.

We are all different Karen. My friend cannot afford to move from the home her husband built. It is huge, on three levels, built into, on top of, and all around one of the small mountains. Beautiful, but to her, leaving it would mean leaving him. I never was sentimental about any but one RV we lived in and had to leave to help take care of family in a stix and brix house again. I wish now I had rented an apartment where I had a washer and dryer, but I don't want to see the house again. We are all so different. Being right is only what is right for us.

Gwen, it feels like my "golden" years are not golden after all. My friend Hettie told me, when another of my classmates passed, "we are at the age when we will lose our friends." She had just lost a classmate the week before. We remember them as "full of life" young people, and they were, but so were we. "The old order changeth, giving way to the new." I used to hear my mama say that. It is true. Does not help to know that.

Cookie, don't ever follow my lead. It still works for me, but I am certifiable.

I think the quote is from Gwen actually, but when they left us they took part of us with them. On my part, it is hard for me to feel love. I feel worry, so maybe that is akin to love. When you say "I am you and you are me" enough, the "am" becomes "was" and the "are" becomes "were." Something/someone gets lost in its translation.

We are human. Sometimes I have difficulty moving my "feet of clay." I typed a young man's death summary when I first started work in the early 1970's. He had leukemia and even back then we did not have the things we have now. He possibly could have been saved if he had lived in this time zone. At the end the doctor dictated they came in and the wife had her husband cradled in her arms like a baby and he was gone. That was the saddest, yet most loving thing I ever typed. I just knew, if it ever happened to me/or Billy, we would do the same thing. Billy reached out his hands to me. I inhumanly slapped his hands down. I was not going to let him give up. But he did, and I missed my chance to repeat what that young woman knew to do. There is no forgiveness from myself for that lack of compassion. It was an opportunity I would not accept. My grandmother, in a coma, but mumbling on her deathbed, me sitting by her, this was 25-30 years after my grandfather had passed away. She mumbled "I couldn't be a wife to him" and I could not understand. At around 29 she had a stillborn baby and cancer was found. They did surgery and radiation. They left an instrument inside her during the operation and she had sepsis, actually recovered and lived until she was 84. I knew she had had seven children in 10 years, so I did not understand her mumbling. Within a short while, I understood because I had the same kind of cancer and the radiation, as much as thy could humanly give, I remembered what my grandma said, and I understood. Yet, all those years she carried that guilt to her grave. I know Billy forgave me. I really cannot forgive myself, but it is my cross to bear. We all carry guilt and "what if's" and anger at the medical establishment. My doctors have all retired and I have not found but one young "whippersnapper" to take their place and she is over 150 miles away. That won't work out. I have to find another one. We have to keep shopping. And Gwen and Kay, all you guys who carry the weight of this loss with you forever, I hope the load gets lighter and I hope you build up a lot of scar tissue to cover this open wound. My heart is with all of you.

A beautiful baby and a beautiful Mama. Thanks Butch. You all deserve a bit of happiness and I want to see Gracie too.

I am using someone's old computer at home. You don't look a gift horse in the mouth. I am so sorry for what seems like an incomplete life. Mine was long and I am really grateful for that. My problem was I, inside my mind, considered we were immortal. We had escaped death more than once and I would not accept him giving up. He was my life and my strength. I showed anger at him for giving up. What kind of partner, what kind of person does that? This was a nightmare inside another nightmare, but I have to live that. We all have a cross to bear and a lot of forgiveness for our own mind.

Gin, gonna be those reminders slap us in the face. I have all the boxes I won't open. Yet, I kept this piece of furniture, a desk, that is one he picked out at a yard sale. It was not cheap, but he liked it, and we never went to yard sales. He saw the desk from the road. I was looking for a phone number and came across two of his many, many lists. He was a math wizard and as much as I hated numbers, he loved them. One list was a series of lifts and squats of exercising and their names. Another was a list of health foods. Could not quit the liquid tobacco poisoning, but we ordered vitamins in bulk from a vitamin company. He was so calm and laid back, the only time I saw him get in a hurry was to die. I was positive my radiated, cancer survivor, colon ruptured, septic, anxiety ridden body would go first. Death respects no one.

Please ignore the mistakes. This keyboard is small and like a smart phone, sometimes it tries to read my mind, which is impossible even for me. I did look at PC's yesterday at Walmart and have one picked out. Sept 1st I will get it before anyone else needs help. My birthday present to me. Kay, do not think that you are not appreciated. You have walked through the flames, and your memory of the heat helps us all. My daughter got on facebook fussing at friends that do not remember her often and the trials she is going through. I am ashamed for her. One of those friends posts often of the good times she is having with her church AA group, although it is not officially called that. She does not write about the personal demon that haunts her when she is alone. I want to write to please forgive her, besides her inherited mental illness, she actually is fighting pain from the chemo to shrink the teratomas in her brain. I cannot do that. We all walk a different path. Sometimes it is straight forward. Sometimes it is over great mountains that cut our souls and leave large gaping bleeding wounds. I would mention swimming great oceans, but because I cannot swim and I am still walking, I don't go near the water. Marty and Kay, and all you experienced travelers, we appreciate any help or insight we may obtain. Sometimes we are like my neighbor, "terrible" and might growl often.

I had to go back to Hot Springs today, and just made a day of it. Back home now. Why do I have such a sad, negative reaction to a place that was so beautiful, and we were so happy. It just plain hurts. I cannot feel the beauty anymore. Probably why I left as fast as I could. I am not happy, but I am not as haunted here in this apartment with the boxes still unpacked, and I have no plans to unpack them.

Cookie, my neighbor still has his wife. He cannot get around much without his scooter, he is a very large man, not really fat, but anytime anyone asks him how he is doing, the only word he can ever say, and does not wait around for conversation. He only knows one word, "TERRIBLE. He does not want to talk about it so I only say "hello" His little wife has serious heart trouble, but sometimes I think she calls the ambulance to get away. Words are all loud and although no cursing, I cannot imagine our golden years so miserable.

Ana, when I came back home, I touched base with our old friends. When Billy was around, we were all hugging and having a good time. Billy (at that time) was unsure of me and it became necessary for me to not be around my lifelong friends and even saw my family less. I liked my new friends and we were all young and just starting a new life. Go forward 54-55 years and "our" friends do not know I exist. I am not hurt, I know I am a reminder now of their own mortality. One has already had a stroke. I am not sure of the oldest one's mental state, and some of the others have gone before Billy. The thing is, I have former coworkers, and the years disappeared for my teenaged years friends and former classmates. We are all close, mainly because most of us are widows and like on this forum, we have all been "touched by the flames". I can truly say I love my friends and as much as I miss Billy, "our" friends were really hi s friends. They were very sweet to our son, but he is more Billy-like" than I am. One strange thing is I am "hearing gossip" and I had forgot a bunch of women did that. It actually makes me uncomfortable. I wish everyone could find a drop of happiness. I was not old till Billy left.

I simply think these people have not had real tragedy. Or they are robots with no heart.

You try to think the best of people and then you encounter ignoramuses (sp?) like the idiots that think "make America great again" means bringing back 1958 life. You find out we are headed backwards. Your former friend will remember how wrong they were when it happens to them. Gives a whole new meaning to walking a mile in "my" shoes.

Kevin, maybe that "outer shell" is the "scar tissue" that Rose Kennedy wrote about. I think it confounds my family. I don't hurt myself and I don't bother them with any attempts to get their attention. I was not old until Billy left, and that is one thing that made him angry, if anyone called him "old man." Honestly, I don't require their attention for money worries, and even my 18 year-old requires more medical attention than I do. My daughter is ill, but her whole life she has required constant medical attention. I think it comes from all the doctors who have all prescribed a different psychopharmaceutical at all the different ones she visited. She definitely has diabetes from one of the medications. My son has a partially functioning liver from all the drugs and alcohol that required hep-C treatments. He does not complain, but my sister is also very sick from COPD, but cannot give up the cigarettes. I could pass away at any time, but I don't worry them with anything but my memory. It really does not bother me unless I lose something. If something breaks in my apartment, I have someone to fix it, so that is not a worry mentally or financially.

I somehow cannot remember what people say. Sometimes it worries my family how separate from them all I can be. "Mama, I just told you that yesterday and you have already forgotten?" They are bordering on alarm. They don't understand, if I want to remember something, I can. I choose not to hear. They are gonna have to get used to it. I was aggravated over a year ago when a friend/former widow said that now I can find myself. I think I have done that. I am "me, myself and I" and all three of us get along very good. It is a shame that none of the three of us hear anything but what we want to remember. We are actually doing okay for the shape we are in.

Gin, I know that anxiety. We didn't even take pictures of our wedding. It was scheduled for the 7th. (We got married on the 3rd). My mom and I fussed constantly. She had the type of mental illness called borderline personality disorder. It was described in a book, not real sure of the title, but think it was called "I Hate You, Please Don't Leave." I tried reading it, but it was like reliving my time with my mom. She really did not want me to leave, so she ran me off. There was no time to plan. Billy sold a gun to pay the preacher. No flowers, etc. But word got out anyhow, even though the official announcement in the paper said the 7th. Also, the original preacher was gone, so we switched churches to my hometown church and pastor. Still, the church was full. I have the pictures in my mind from 56 years ago. I still break down, so I will rely on memory. Mama could take all the air out of a room and I cannot remember anything but my dress anyhow. But I do know the anxiety of not remembering where I put something, and sometimes, I never remember. I don't like to tax my brain. It is almost like a physical pain, so I don't do it. (will get computer in Sept.

George, I signed everything over to my sister. There was nothing in that house I wanted and if my sister can ever get out from under the debt, she needs it to live. I am taken care of and she needs it. I think your dad sounds a little mixed up. Well now you do not have to let your sister make you feel guilty. I'll bet Glen Campbell's large family wars for years. Glen doesn't have to worry about it. They have been in court for years now. Good luck to you on it. In a way, it is a weight off you.

I am writing on my Kindle. I still buy books to help the grieving. Some how it is like hail bouncing off a frozen highway. Nothing sinks in. Sometimes it is like I will have to face it all over again. I found the 6th edition of "Life After Loss" but the best I can tell from what I read is that this edition comes after the death of his wife. Even without this loss, this must be a leading book about loss. This hit my heart because "June Deits -, the only girlfriend, wife, life partner I ever had. For 69 years she was the center of my life beginning at age 14." Somehow I saw the little funeral director with his painted on smile, he had just lost his wife of 66 years and went every evening to sit at her grave. I know I will read at this book. I wake each morning and my first thought is "no, he is not here." When Scott is here it is such a reminder that he is part of Billy. Bri is here with me and I am busy all the time. I did manage to read one of Billy's novels. I usually could finish one fast. Concentration is still shallow. I'm scared to read this book, afraid it will disrupt the scar tissue, might melt that wax protecting my brain.

All my Amazon is still in Billy's name. This one's name is Billy's 5th Kindle.

I sign our cards the same way I always did. I usually signed for both of us all those years, I still do. Will keep on, his retirement was bigger than mine, so I figure the only difference is he is not bodily here. I always picked out the cards and presents. He would do it if I asked him to, but it just kind of was one of "my jobs." Still is.

Love it. On my way home yesterday I saw a most beautiful garden.............with a very high electric fence around it. They ate everything where we lived in AR. We had four in our backyard at morning and evening. New babies all the time.

Kay, I bought a Dell laptop and gave it to my son. I got Bri the HP laptop last winter and a new desktop for my sister last month. My time is coming.