Margm

I read it Marty. Can this old dog learn new tricks? I don't do things because I want to leave a good memory. I have no need for any of that, when I'm gone, I'm gone. Grandma was not a good housekeeper, not a good cook, but I used to have lots of love to give. Billy's gone and I am sort of at a loss for all the love I used to have to give. I cannot feel it. My granddaughter knows I love her, my kids, my sister, but I am not demonstrative, it is like I have lost it somewhere along the way, and I hate that. The feelings I have for my granddaughter is that I will do anything for her so she can have a life. She asks for nothing. She knows I love her but I just feel I have lost the ability to show love. It is gone. It has been mentioned by the family, and I have apologized to them but I know its there, I just cannot show it, and I guess I have been taken advantage of. I Just think I feel half of what I used to feel. I don't know why. I wonder if maybe that might be why Billy's family never said "I love you" to any of them. On the day their little girl started school she died with one of the childhood diseases they didn't even know she had. The others were born after she died. Maybe that took the love out of them.. Maybe they were scared to love. I didn't lose it after my Daddy died. But I've sure lost feeling after Billy left. I don't think I have faced that before. I truly am half a person.

Oh, I'm not through. Gotta throw a little blue cheese on this word salad. Sometimes thoughts that some might think are "normal" run through my head. We all know "normal" is a fallacy. (I had to look up the spelling). I read this written below. “There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.”― Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind I thought back to the 1980's when my shrink told me about the same thing. With the cancer, Billy being in ICU and trying to work three jobs, my little ole mind took wing. Scared the heck out of me at first and two times driving in my car I got out of having accidents that were impossible to get out of. But I did. I was so shook up I called my shrink and then I could not find my way to her office (that I visited at least twice a month, sometimes more often.. I came to the end of a road that jumped over into interstate. I finally made it there (we had no cell phones at that time), and I told her I knew I was totally bats__t crazy. I was not crying. I had experienced the most mind bending, impossible things and I did not want them to end. I think it was called disassociation. Unfortunately, now that I need it, it has deserted me. She told me the brain in protecting itself allows these things to happen. And, this mimicked what Rose Kennedy said. I am depended on, a whole lot. More than I want to be, but I cannot let these people down. I am griping about something that some of you people need. I have PT for my granddaughter now two times a week and also school. My son will come and stay August, mainly cause he misses his mother. But, he has a part-time job he has to go to also, so it might not be for long.. I have rearranging to do in this apartment because Bri's friend is coming for a week. One part of me says "I cannot do this" and the other says "of course you can, the truth is, you have to and there is no "I can't do this." (One good thing. I will retire to my room and read, read for long lengths of time, a pleasure I have not had in a long time. Billy's pleasure, he had to have his reading time. And, when we first got married he was jealous of my reading and not paying attention to him. I miss his loving to read.

Kay, for some reason this year was harder. So, it does not always get easier with time. I'm sorry folks. I got to keep him for so much longer than most of you. I am selfish, I wanted longer. I do hope you get help with your medical care. I know you have two children that you worry about too. Bipolar does its little lifts and then being thrown down and stomped on. Their minds are happy one minute, abject depression the next. There are no happy mediums. My daughter is asleep right now. The chemo makes her bones hurt terribly. She cannot take the steroids that will help this pain, it causes her to have seizures. Her moods range from planning her next wild trip (and she will do it if someone can finance it), to being so low that only the pain patches and the oral pain medicine can put her out. The bipolar with both of them is terrible enough, but the physical illnesses compound the problems. My granddaughter is here because she cannot handle the extreme ups and the terrible downs where words are very hurtful. Yes sticks and stones can break bones, but unfortunately words can bend little minds completely out of shape, and knowing the one saying them is mentally disturbed does not help. And, I'm in the middle, my child hurts, but the innocent one needs protected as she has seen too much. I'm doing what Billy would do, without Billy. He was such a wonderful father and grandfather. More people than just me hurts for him. My "close relative" has a tremendous education, yet knowing all the knowledge in books does not cover living now. This person won't ask for anything and my mind is pulled so many ways I am afraid at one time or the other, someone suffers. We used to have someone on here that I would call her WW for Wonder Woman and she would call me SW for Super Woman. I don't know where she is now. I hope she has found some measure of happiness. We seldom hear from Brad either anymore, and maybe that is the point we all need to reach for. Unfortunately, addiction is in my DNA/genes/or whatever part of me that lives, and this forum is it.

Wonderful family, wonderful country. I only have two more to watch of this season's "Heartland" but it truly is God's country.

I'm also sorry. I gripe because I have to drive 49 miles one way for Brianna's medical care. I am sorry insurance and medical has to be so hard. So many of you have to carry such loads to even get medical care. I understand, my sister has to do the same. All I have to do is find someone to take care of me and I've never had such a hard time doing this, but all I have to do is phone, reach out and go. Just dragging my heels. I wish this government medical care could be taken care of, but as long as we have a puppet "Punch and Judy" government, things will only be taken care of for the rich, which none of us are. Words do not stop pain or cause the wheels to run.

Thank you Joyce. I had to go by the credit union, we have a new widow as the woman I have talked to more than once. It has only been a year for her. She told me to put my faith and sorrows in God. I showed her my mustard seed necklace. I told her I was unable to move mountains or even small stones yet. She grabbed my hand and said I would. I can cry if you point your finger at me, but am able to keep it down in public. When she grabbed my hand and I left I turned on the car for the AC because I could not breathe I was crying so hard. I became sorta alarmed because I could not quit and could not breathe good. I got control. I got two birthday greetings for him (he used my email) from two of his forums. I am not going to tell them he is gone. He had 2-3 forums he wrote to, a fly fishing forum and a "smallie's" forum for small mouth bass. He used to write to them all the time. His name was "wingbonebilly" for the turkey calling whistles he made out of turkey wingbones. He did not sell any of these, just part of his hobby, and he did not kill turkeys but did call them up for our son-in-law when our daughter was married. We always released the fish too. I got to where I could not kill those big nightcrawler worms as fish bait, so I finally quit fishing. Mama said I was baiting my own hook at two years old, so this ole gal has been a creek fishergirl for a long time. Don't have the heart anymore. I remember going to sleep and could see the bobber just a bobbing while I went to sleep. Strange phenomenon. ADDENDUM: Had to get my daughter a birthday card for next week, so, I bought Billy one for today and put it next to his wooden urn. Did not cry.

Happy Birthday. I don't know if it will help, it actually does not help me, but mine and Billy's song was "A Time for Us" and we would just look at each other then. We had lots of time together, but somehow, we only had one year that was "a time for us" but we sure enjoyed the family also. I have grown to appreciate it more now. Sure a lot of worries, but they make it where I just have..........a lot more worries, so that takes up a lot of time. Not griping now. I miss him. Happy Birthday tomorrow Gin. Words.

Probably not important, I just finished reading Jessi Coulter's autobiography. Yes, I kinda did pick it out to see how she reacted after Waylon passed away. Do you realize that was 2002. Her new book came out this year. Well, she has not remarried by the end of the book but is open to relationships. Did you know after Waylon passed away, Jessie (real name Mirriam) read books written by other widows, widowers like most all of us do. We are looking how other people handle this pain. And guess what, we all handle it the same way, one day at a time, or one step at a time. And we just don't "quit" hurting. I still cannot believe Billy is gone most of the time. Tomorrow he would have been 77. He was born in 1940. Mama and Daddy got married the month before he was born. And that has nothing to do with anything except Mama could always remember how old he was. None of his family got past the early 70's, late 60's. He got to 75. Lots of things I wish. But, his mama taught me if you wish in one hand and S___T in the other one, see which fills up the fastest. Mama taught me magical, imaginative stuff, if wishes were horses beggars would ride. I miss that part of my life, but Billy's mom was right.

Well girl, think your gonna make it. Know you don't really care, but I see the humorous Gwen slipping through. That is why Grace and Frankie helped me so, I figured if I could laugh then maybe I might make it. And, they are not everyone's cup of tea. My son has watched "My Name is Earl" all the way through, all the episodes about 3-4 times. I think we are all a bit depressed because tomorrow is Billy's birthday and everyone would have to fill the list he made out from Father's Day. We didn't call him Billy the Kid for nothing.

Thursday is Billy the Kid's birthday and our foremost thoughts would have been buying "the kid" the newest toy to play with. They all know I am a stuff shirt, (not sure what that means), but I sincerely do not want presents, to the point of "no, I don't want anything." Selfish of me, because Billy always wanted something. He could get so excited over line for his fly rod, and new flies were always welcome. Everyone loved buying for him. He started his "want list" right after the last gift giving holiday. I have a huge box of homemade and bought flies he never used. I will let the kids get rid of them cause I cannot. The two year mark is rapidly approaching in October. I marvel at the morning fear, terror I face just looking at the clouds. This has intensified, if anything. I have quit looking up so often and saying Billy please help me, cause I know I have to do it alone. My dad was the furthest thing from lazy of any man I have ever known, yet, he would teach Mama how to do things around the house. The pipes, wrenches, screw drivers, Phillips screw drivers and all other things. If I hit the nail on the head with the hammer, I think I need some sort of award. This morning I took a half a Xanax because I had to get out of the house. I did okay. I found the places I had to go. I even found a $7 check from something that I put in savings at the bank. Hooray, I now have $12 in savings. One of my close relatives is living in abject poverty, did get food stamps and I give $50 often. It takes about $3000 that I cannot come up with to get her on her feet. Legal fees. In the meantime she won't ask for nothing, her dog got out and later she heard gunshots and knows she is dead. Animals when they are ill will go off by themselves and she cannot afford to take her to the vet. I know she is sad. If I could get her on her feet she could do the rest. I have got to come up with some idea, some help. She does not take free help from others very well, will turn them down. Will take it from me. I cannot save it, someone else strips/needs it first. (Not my granddaughter). Son has CT on the 31st. They have to watch him close for liver cancer. Daughter still having chemo for teratomas on her brain. If Billy was here he could share the worry, but he could not do anymore than I can, but just having him hold me would help. ..........promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep. RF

Crying to me is a constant. I have many ways that I do it. They come on without thought, they just happen, anywhere, anytime. Walking in Walmart, driving in the car, looking at clouds, always the moon, dog food commercials, any movie, any song, any time of the day or night. Probably why I quit wearing mascara, although I know about all the water proofs, they still burn my eyes. And, I still talk to Billy, although not like the first few months. Strangely, today is the 21st month. I feel like a pro. I'd rather not feel that way.

I decided to go through the box I use for the "coffee table" and the first thing I saw was a plaque that Billy had bought me on our 33rd anniversary. I closed the box. Not going through any more of them. I might not ever go through them. They are really nice plastic buckets/boxes with latching lids. I don't mind looking at them. He had written on the back. After 54 years, there are too many things in those boxes. I'm through.

Knew it was something, still, don't get to where you have to run from any of them. Good looking family and hope your having a great time. I just love that name Atlas.

I love the name Atlas, but he has a lot to live up to. You all have lots of testosterone in this family. Don't get them angry at you, didn't you just have knee surgery? Looks like you all enjoyed yourselves. Proud for you. Atlas is so sweet.

George, I never faced the DNR meaning in all my years of working medical. When Billy was gone, I saw his death mask, they felt a faint pulse. What did I want to do. The kids were not there to say goodbye, my mind was the most numb, cold, ineffective, insane it had ever been. I had them bring him back to life. How cruel. OMGosh I hope I did not hurt him terribly. He was not conscious. He could not speak. He knew no one. He was for all intents and purposes already dead. I cannot look back. I was wrong, but I have to forgive that part of me that was not me, I was an unperson at that moment in time. I saw them working on his body and I was immobile. I was gone too. My mother had thyroid problems. In her 80's they did a biopsy. They did not get enough tissue and wanted to do it again. She begged us no. So, we obeyed her wishes. No more invasive tests on my mama. I do not want anything else done for me. They threw my naked body on the MRI table, No drapes or sheets for modesty. I felt like a slab of beef hanging in a cooler, waiting to be cut into steaks, etc. I was thinking with all the people coming in and out, they would not want their mother to be treated like this. There has to be some sort of decorum for us old folks. They have to let us have some dignity. My poor Billy did not have any dignity allowed him by me. I cannot keep second guessing myself on that. I was totally insane at those moments. Talking to me made no sense to me or them. We old people need some peace and dignity in our last days. If your dad does not want these tests, if you think his body would not take all the wear and tear that the tests would terrorize him, please do not let him have to face them. On one of my x-rays/MRI's it came back showing seeding of what they felt was colon cancer, or seeding from my old cancer. The oncologist, who had come to tell me the oddity of the Factor IX in my blood (no death sentence, an oddity he had found and was there to discuss it. He was proud of himself, and me). But, when they were telling me this, he was in the room. He told the interventional radiologists, there must have been three of them in my room, he told them "no, that is not possible" so I underwent no more tests and three years and four months later, I am none the worse for wear than when I began this journey. Dignity to old people is very important. I know I have mentioned my mom and her loud, boisterous, crude talking sisters. One had lost her husband to prostate cancer. Daddy had just had the radical surgery and my aunt came down the hall of the hospital in her loud voice entering the room "Did they cut your ______ off yet, Elvie?" And we talk about rude and insensitive people. I knew the queens of rude and insensitive.

Kay, I so appreciate my family. They drive me crazy. It is something new every day. I wonder often what Billy would do in my circumstances. I do know he would not be living in an apartment. I do know my granddaughter could not live in that 23 foot RV that one of us was to live in at the close of life. I do think the granddaughter would be his top priority. I still have the little poem I wrote to myself, the silly little poem that I wrote when I was sure I was dying of cancer in my early 40's. The stress from everything was tearing me apart. It still is. I say I am not tough but my system of nerve tissue could provide electrical energy for NYC till the end of time. I've got to learn not to care/I've got to accept I can't be there/I'm not that important, life does go on/If I was not here then I'd be gone. I've carried that little silly ditty with me for over 30 years. I was so stressed out then and I am no less stressed now. As much as Billy tried to help me then, there was no help, and I knew it. I know it now.

Gwen, I have written volumes, reread through them and deleted them. (I hope). Sometimes I serve the same word salad. I think I am getting better and then I get that urge to dig that hole, or hide the car behind a seedy motel in some faraway place, but they would find me and probably have a silver alert out. I cannot get the picture of the three police cars and the ambulance all with lights flashing in my front yard at 2:00 a.m. (fixing to break the door in) all because I had gone to sleep with earbuds in my ears. Damn, I don't think any of us are gonna get outta this world alive. This life is tough but I can still hear that sneaky humorous side of you and also I hope you got to watch that plumber bend over just for the hell of it.

My daughter finds solace in posting her dad's picture. They have moved back to where we retired. Gets angry with me because I cannot go back. We just do not all handle things the same way. I even bought new everything, nothing that Billy has used or seen. Why? I have no idea. I have all of his things in boxes, have not opened them. I do sleep with his clothes between my pillows. My cousin used to come up to where we retired. It is a vacation heaven. It is a paradise. When Billy left, it was hell. I never understood why my cousin could not return to where she and her husband had the most fun, their vacation every year, something they looked forward to. Then he passed away. Now 20 years later she cannot return even now. I never understood. I now understand.

I commend yours and my sister's sobriety. Addiction has plagued my family far too long.

That is why I stay in the shallow end. I always have so much to say, if my mouth was moving I would be taking in water and drowning. I won't mention anything keeping me afloat.

It is a wonderful organization. My friend had gone to it and belongs to the church that sponsors it. Sometimes things don't fit all sizes. After cancer I tried going to a cancer survivors group. I went one time. Could not handle it. My son said when he went to the drug anonymous group like AA, he came away from there wanting drugs while my sister's lifeline was AA to help her get sober. Like I said, one size does not fit all. I very seldom get off the "spouses" section of this forum. There are a lot of other topics that cover a lot of things that might help me also. I can't swim, so sometimes I stay in the shallow end of the pool. I better put an addendum to that. What I mean is I stay in the section I understand. One night or day I might wear my floaties and get a little deeper in the pool.

Kay, the organization of the group I attended was called GriefShare. I believe it is a wonderful group and provides much care and solace for many people. I do have the workbook, and I do receive their forum missive each night. Sometimes it helps me. We lose many things in our life, how we accept it or don't accept it is a personal feeling. I won't say choice, because if I were given a choice, I would choose no grief period. But this is life. And, this is death. Myself, my own personal opinion, is my grief is too big to reach around it or touch the top. Myself, my own personal opinion, is that losing a child would not be reachable in any shape, form, or matter. Just my own personal belief. And, leaving each meeting after crying because a woman's grown son was missing for so long, then found in the hunter's woods recently, it did not just touch me, it hammered in the times I thought I might come home and find my drug taking son deceased from an overdose or hanging from a tree. He did not want to live. And, I died many times myself from knowing this. Knowing that an organization had sent him to collect money owed from drugs and him getting himself shot and coding on the table so many times they just had to sew him back up until they could try again. I relived these times with these mothers, and at the time I was going to the meetings, I was having a very hard time myself. Selfish, maybe so. I could not bring this home with me when I was already burdened down, and I do not feel ashamed of myself for leaving. You have to do what you have to do. You really do have to think of yourself. Marty and you helping others on here, you both teach that you have to take time for yourself and I could not face finding this young man in the hunter's woods with his mother having his favorite stew waiting at home. I have found, sometimes I do have to be selfish, and I am doing this right now with a relative needing my help, but I just don't have enough money.

Religion spoke here: I will keep searching as long as I do not make a positive movement. When the hospice nurse visited my mom she gave me a book and the whole small pamphlet was how sometimes we have anger with God. For those that are not believing, for those with other religions, this is not important any more than those that live in Canada have to worry about our politics.. I am not knowledgeable about either, I am afraid, but really need my faith. Billy saw over the years that faith was something I needed as much as anything else. And, he was much more help than the mustard seed necklace, although he was with me when I ordered it. I joined the group (cannot think of the name now, maybe "Grief Share?") and thought it would be other widows and widowers (I believe Kay holds these meetings at her church). It mostly was made up with mothers who had lost children, and I came away from the three meetings totally bombed. My grief was such a minor thing to those women grieving their children. I had to quit going. Already with chronic depression and also grief overload, I was not helping myself. My friend who had introduced me to the meeting was perturbed with me, but she is too nice to tell me so. That honestly does not worry me. I still get a missive each night from the Grief Share. Sometimes I save them in my "grief" folder of my emails. They come late at night and I read them/or don't read them in the mornings. Here is the challenge: Do not use your suffering as a time to discover if you believe in God, but focus instead on discovering what you believe about Him. In times of suffering, God does not change, but what you believe about Him, what you understand about Him, may. You will likely have questions to which you will never receive answers. It is human nature to want all the pieces to fit, to want to make sense of things. But there are times when that will not happen. Well, it still has not happened here. Just like the message that the "young me" was no coward, how can there be so many "me's" in this body we inhabit? The thing we are looking for, well, in all honesty, we will never have him/her back. I got "out of sorts" with my friend that told me "now you can find yourself." (I did not let her know, I am not about confrontations, I get too much of that with family.) I do not want to find me. Here I am. This is the person I don't know what to do with.......me. In the meantime, my family pulls me so many different ways I have to file some things in the "remember to do" section of my brain that forgets so easily.

So many new ones. Hate to see that others share our misery, but somehow, and I don't know how, we all come here for some sort of solace. Sometimes we find it. Some are looking for length of time it takes, and there just really is no answer for that one. I just heard from a friend, nothing earth shattering, just took me back too many years to even calculate in my brain. All he said was that the young me, he never knew as a coward, that I was tough. (Of course, this was before I found and lost Billy). That is all, and I started crying and have probably cried almost constantly for 30 minutes. Fixing to be 21 months for me. Where is that tough young girl from so long ago. I have cried because I lost her. I have cried, not just tears, but buckets. Now, I have to pull the old girl together and take my granddaughter to her doctor's appointment. I think the red hair made me tough. It's not red anymore.