Wedding Song - God Knew That I Needed You

Monday, October 12, 2020

GHOST TOWN

 

It’s been a few days since I last posted to this Blog.

I’ve been visiting with friends, hiking, and changing inside Summer dΓ©cor out for Fall eye-catchers.

Taking a slow-mo walk through my life.

Trying to get through the 106 days of suffering this time of year always drags with it.

If I could, I’d fast-forward those 106 painful memory days as fast as I could.

But I can’t: Father Time moves at his own speed; taking my thoughts wherever the wind blows him.

In the rare moments I was out and about, I was informed of friends’ great-grandchildren: 3 born recently. And once again, had to tell them, “No, I don’t see great-grandchildren in my future”; all 3 of my granddaughters have been very clear they will not be reproducing – Bob and my genes will die out with this generation. If our grandson, Azariah, decides to have children further down the line … I will probably not be here to see it; he is only 6, and I am coming up on 64.

We only have now: the future is not guaranteed.

I also walked 10 miles, and worked up two good sized blisters – the one on the back heel being the most troublesome:

And I noticed, when I put the silk Fall flowers out, that my White Christmas Cactus was blooming. I bought this cactus in Scappoose Fred Meyer two years ago when Bob and I passed through there on our way back from Portland.

I’m glad it is thriving – I’m tired of things dying.

Fall Mantle. At a Bazaar Bob and I set up at 4 years ago, he saw the owl planter with a nice Christmas arrangement in it, and encouraged me to enter the lottery call for it. I was surprised when I won! But I’m glad I have it now, as a fun and loving memory.

I was cooking this afternoon, and listening to some Youtube music videos; preparing Supper and trying to run down a few seasonal tunes to post that would not be in direct conflict with my Faith.

I like spectacular weather-beaten Victorian houses set on hill shadowed by naked tree silhouettes – there was such an unordinary house on a backroad out of La Center: I loved looking at that house when we drove past it. Then it got a new owner that remodeled it … and made it ruinously ordinary.

I like the B.I.G. Yellow Harvest Moon when it appears. I am used to it now, but when I first saw it as a new bride, come up over the Columbia River one night Bob and I were driving home to Cathlamet from Longview, I was a bit overwhelmed: it took up most of the sky and looked like it was literally rising out of the river itself. I’ll never forget that moon scene.

I don’t mind bats – as long as they stay outside; I’m not keen on having them dive-bomb me, finding one in the toilet in the morning, or hiding in my curtain folds.

I like making a scarecrow for my garden … I know he is going to stay put: he will not be jumping off his stake and galivanting all over the countryside when I turn the lights out and turn in.

Gnarled naked trees are kinda cool: in a safe-creepy-sorta-way πŸ˜‰

And graveyards don’t bug me: I knew most of the people in those I visit, and I know they aren’t rising and roaming … the dead are good and buried.

While I do believe the spirit lives on after the body dies – I do not believe ghosts roam Earth haunting, or terrorizing people. I did personally see my Grandfather Ball’s face in the window after he died, but I was not ‘haunted’, nor was I terrified – I was born with ‘second sight’ and knew he was just saying goodbye since he did not see us before he suddenly died of a heart attack on the golf course green. It only happened once, and never was a repeat.

That said … Bob hasn’t ‘visited’ me, and I don’t expect him to: we were able to personally say our farewells those 106 days of Fall & Winter 2018, when Bob was preparing to exit life on Earth. I was present when his spirit passed from this life to the next, and he now resides with Yeshua. There is no reason for Bob’s spirit to linger; there were no loose ends, and he is perfectly happy and content to be where he is now.

And though I miss him very much, I would not call him back ((1) – that is forbidden by our Faith & (2) – Heaven is what we strive towards; Bob has achieved that goal).

So

I found a few tunes I can safely post without stepping out of line.

This one song title ‘Ghost Town’ caught my eye while I was scrolling songs because I like ghost towns.

I like ghost towns. They have character – and “staying power”: they are still standing. They shelter stories untold.

Solitude appeals to me – it always has. I’d be perfectly happy living as far away from civilization as I could … but, Bob liked lots of busy activity around him, and because he gave me so much of my wishes, desires, and wants while he walked beside me and loved me as a flesh and blood man, I agreed to live in Longview area for the past 24¾ years; 3 years ago we bought the house I am currently living in: smack dab in the hustle and bustle of Longview (it’s on the outskirts, but 5 shakes of a lamb’s tail from downtown; and on a very busy highway): 2020 consensus gave a population count of 39,240. Needless to say, I escape to backroads, backcountry, and ghost town communities at every opportunity – and Bob got me out of Longview once a month too, when he was still here.

Bob knew a happy wife was a happy life πŸ˜‰

Bob liked me happy – I liked Bob happy: we both compromised on our preferences to build a good, happy, strong, and stable marriage: we loved each other 😊

House repainted last May. Bob would be happy I am taking care of business. As you can see, in a 814 ct. home Mobile Home Park, there are people all around me: very little privacy.

Middle ground was a good place to be standing.

Middle ground is still a good place to be standing.

I like all 4 of these Ghost Town songs.

All 4 of these Ghost Town songs {fit} my life right now.

Not just for this month, in particular: I can identify: 24/7/365.

Ghost Town (Cheap Trick): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vAZ3in619ak

It’s raining here.

Longview is a busy small-town-city; I live in an 814 ct. Mobile Home Park … the streets are always busy with car, truck, bike, skateboard, foot, and neighbor activity.

I play music all day long – vehicles passing the house are playing music, people walking past are listening to music; but the music of Bob’s lyrical voice and sunny laughter is missing. The music I hear is disjointed, and unsatisfactory, now. I could go to some night spot and listen to live music … but I don’t want to without Bob. That may change at some point, but for now, that option is off the table; I just can’t.

Life goes on around me every day, and I’ve been trying to enjoy some of it for about 11½ months now, but busy Longview feels like a ghost town to me since Bob’s presence is no longer here; my days are empty and my nights are lonely. Especially with the ridiculous and hysterical demonrat nonsense going on about covid-19. And though I like ghost towns – and would probably live in one if I had the chance … I am sinking my roots into my small corner of Longview trying to fit in and build a life here without him: Bob gave me a life and a home here, he asked me to “keep the house, Val” – so that is what I am doing.

Admittedly, I did try to sell this house several times since December 14th, 2018; and I would have gotten a fairly descent selling price for it, but I am learning the hard way in this widowhood life, that what seems like a good idea … can all too often be very bad ideas when well-meaning people prove to be fickle flakes.

There is no place for a widow except the place she makes for herself.

So, I am sinking my roots deep and building a life where I am welcome in it.

Ghost Town (The Specials): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqZ8428GSrI

I like black and white movies … and this music score kinda fits that mood πŸ˜‰

This song also fits life in today’s life lane: nothing much happening since insleeze’s nazi mandates. Pretty much ALL of Washington State, now, is like a ghost town.

Longview used to be a ‘hoppin happening place’ … now it’s just like other sleepy struggling small-town-cities fighting to stay alive and vital in lockdown mode; It was struggling before covid mandates, but it is really struggling now. And though Longview has not been torched (or businesses broken into and vandalized), people openly and brazenly murdered because they are white Trump supporters, or overthrown by a self-appointed and mayor sanctioned warlord (like portland and seattle have been), there are paid rabble rousers that have migrated from portland and seattle to stir up strife in Longview and Castle Rock: and Longview and Castle Rock residents are not having any of that mindset/activity forced on us – those people can go right back to their cities and raise hell there – we don’t want it, or need it here.

Cathlamet and Skamokawa were overtaken by new york and california rabble rousers 4 decades ago: those two little sleepy river hamlets are now hotbeds of big city mentality {leadership} that caters to hard-core prison parolees, and turns a blind eye to meth labs and sex trafficking: Longview is starting to go that route with it’s ever-spreading hard-core prison parolee tent city openly engaging in drug dealing and prostitution. There are shelters available with toilets/showers, running water, laundry availability, hot meals, beds, clothing, ect.; but these people do not want to follow house rules.

It is sad what takes place in Washington State ruled by demonrats – some homebred, others caravanned in, to undermine and overtake.

Longview used to be “the place to be!”

Now, this small-town-city is becoming a ghost town; the city is gasping for life, and the inhabitants move around it like dazed zombies. Jobs are few and scarce, and most of those have been in a perpetual state of lockdown since March 2020.

People are getting antsy and angry.

And some people, like me, refuse to run around, hysterically grabbing our ass and screaming, “the sky is falling!”

I resent strangers dictating to me how to live my life.

I generally buck against restraints.

Doesn’t matter how insignificant that restraint appears to others.

I like freedom.

I gotta believe the demonrat insanity will end, and freedom will reign again.

That life will be worth living, again.

Bob is gone.

I must have freedom.

Otherwise there is no point in continuing forward … a hobbled life is no life at all.

I really resent what pelosi and her gang of political terrorists are doing to America and Americans.

Ghost Town Nation (Travis Tritt): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cGDGiLE_Pzo

I know that what is happening is the prophecies of Zechariah, Joel, Jude, and the Book of Revelation unfolding.

Bob knew it too, before he left Earth. He had mentioned one day walking into the kitchen, that he believed “we are in the Last Days.”

Of course, he got outta here before Election year madness, covid-19 insanity, and obamanite race war hell was unleashed.

But, he knew.

In his final days earthbound, Bob worried about leaving me here, alone.

But he also knew that I am strong in my Faith: he knew I would rely on Yeshua, as always.

And I do: Yeshua is my Husband now; I trust Him 100% with my life – I never trusted Bob 100%. I trusted Bob with my life … but not 100%; just 95% πŸ˜‰

I loved Bob more than anyone else.

I love God more than anyone.

I could love them both without shorting either.

And once Bob ‘got it’, he was okay with that.

So, I don’t worry about the sky falling on my head.

What’s happening is alarming because we are losing America to Anti-American philosophy and violent hostilities.

Hell is what people want … Elohim is allowing them their wish. Hopefully sanity will once again take a foothold, and the flames of hell will be put out.

Caution is advised, and knowledgeable warning is wisdom: but there’s no need to panic because what will be will be.

Headlines from political talking heads will shout “DOOM!”

Otherwise civilized neighbors, friends, and family members will ‘turn’ and start howling at the moon in frustrated angsts.

But, people like me – country minded folk – will go where it’s peaceful and serene; escaping if just for a short while, to gain perspective away from the ramped-up chaos.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I61jbgvkGdU)

We’ll load up and take a load off – into the backcountry where fish are jumping in waters running fresh and clear (no overbearing chlorine odor), a picnic is a feast (good food from good homesteading practices), nothing to think about, but the glory of God all around; and the calming knowing that we are in the palm of His hand, loved and cared for. Always.

Making the best of a bad situation.

Getting by just fine in a ghost town nation.

Ghost Town (Adam Lambert): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msO-ZZ9g3SY

I like this song’s tempo, but I believe in God … I don’t think suicide is a cool thing to do – I have family members, friends, and acquaintances that have been destroyed when suicide took its toll; I never could stand elvis (YUK!), and I never cared for cry-baby James Dean – he was always a loud whiner without a real cause.

Jimmy Dean, in the other hand, I do like: I like his music, I like his country sausage (which reminds me, I need to write that on the grocery list) πŸ˜‰

On the other hand …

I carry my ghost town with me, too.

Time, without Bob in it, has been thrown to the wind; and friends and family – for this widow (moi) – had been disaffected. Most are no longer in my life. Their own choice.

Trust, always a major issue with me, appears to be nonexistent. In anyone, at any time: for any reason. It’s a sad reality in society.

It’s disheartening.

I miss the trustworthiness of what I had with my husband.

I’m tired of energy-sucking-vampires.

I really miss Bob.

I miss the presence of my person; the one person in the whole world that was with me.

In my corner; for me.

Our love was not a satire.

Thinking of me, while I was thinking of him.

Another person to smile at; to smile with.

Another person to talk with.

To share life with.

My soul belongs to God, but my heart belongs to Bob.

And Bob isn’t here: Bob will never be here again.

My heart is a ghost town.

My heart has ‘staying power’.

I didn’t fly into a million pieces – though at times, it sure felt like I would.

I survived e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.e.v.e.r.y.b.o.d.y. threw at me all of 2019, and 2020; to date.

I survived e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.e.v.e.r.y.b.o.d.y. used to draw blood with all of 2019, and 2020; to date.

My life is developing character; aside from Bob’s input.

I am a story yet untold.

I carry my ghost town with me.