Today was my Naselle Coffee Hour.
And though I am pinching pennies, I refuse to give up these friendship
gatherings: they are necessities to me. They are relationships I am
determined to cultivate. So, I got dressed, grabbed a coke at baker’s Corner …
and headed off to Naselle. Surprisingly, I actually arrived on time 😊
On the way out of town; I saw there was
construction going on between Baker’s Corner, and where I live – there is
conflicting information about the {why}. I hope this will be a good thing. Time
will tell.
Rumor has it that another mobile home park is being built; there's still some confusion about the TYPE that will be there.
Coffee hour went well, and when it was time to
head back home, I was asked if I’d like to meet with them for their weekly
Super hour at the Duck Inn in Skamokawa: I said, “not this time because I need
to figure the bills tally … and hope to sock some $$$ away for new glasses.”
They asked if I’d be joining them for chit-chat tomorrow, and I declined for
the same reason. E.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. frivolous is being put on hold
until I have the funds for new eyewear 😉 I’ll make the weekly Naselle Coffee Hour, and
the weekly Thursday Jam Sessions – but other than those two {outings}, I need
to be frugal about gas usage for the time being.
On my way back home, I decided to make a right
at Rosburg Store … and visit Eden Valley. It’s been a while since I’ve done
that. While driving along, I made a snap decision to hang a right at the Eden
Valley Road, and visit the place where Bob was conceived and spent his early
childhood.
I was not prepared for any of the changes that
had taken place!
A hot summer day along the Altoona-Pillar Rock Road; farmers get right-of-way.
It’s A Beautiful Day – ‘Hot Summer Day’ song:
May as well make it a full remembrance day; Eden Valley ... the last time I was out this road was with Bob in the Summer of 2016.
Totally different layout - and the name on the mailbox isn't who bought Bob's childhood home in the 1970's. ALL different from 2016.
Bob would drive out here every once in a while; just to remember his childhood days.
Kygo, Rita Ora – ‘Carry On’ song:
Bob Sr., Rose, BOB, 2 yo.
1953. Herbie (Bob's Uncle), Bob & Ralph (Bob's brother); Eden Valley.
Bob; Eden Valley.
These are narrow roads ... holdovers from horse and buggy, and early put-put-automobile days.
The entire length of road was being scraped smooth, and possibly widened along the edges with gravel.
Bob's marker was MOVED; I hope I correctly put it back where it had been.
I was very distressed ... and trying to tamp down panic mode. I had stopped by Eden Valley Cemetery: and
saw that someone had moved the wrought iron placement marker that I had
placed next to Bob's cremains
placement (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/09/mind-at-ease.html).
They had moved it to the top of the headstones
... and stuck plastic flowers there, too. The flowers, I don't mind; but to take
it upon themselves to move both markers was disrespectful – and hurtful to me
today when I saw the wrought iron marker where it did not belong … and the
steel pipe marker was totally gone. I had a real moment of panic. I cried
(kinda wailed, actually). I yanked that marker out of where it had been moved
to and prayed to God that I would remember where it had been before;
when the freshly dug sod made it simple. Now, the grass had grown strong there,
and it is not so easy to remember; so I mentally measured 6' between headstone
and where I stood as I stuck the prongs in the earth and stomped it into place
... but I am not sure it is where I placed my husband's cremains ☹
(((((WHY))))) would someone DO THAT????? It is
inexcusable.
I've made arrangements with Steele's Funeral Home
to ferry my remains to Eden Valley Cemetery when I pass. The arrangements
were that they were to take note of that wrought iron marker, and place
my remains by Bob's. Now I am not sure that will ever happen.
My heart felt shattered into a million pieces
all over again.
Leaving the cemetery, I decided to drive to
the Smalley house at the end of Eden Valley Road and find out why. I wasn’t
angry anymore. I was just confused as to why someone felt perfectly free to
rearrange our Burial Plot to suit their satisfaction. At the end of the County
Road, I learned that Heather was no longer dealing with Cemetery issues (this was wrong info); and
the caretakers lived a bit further up the hill (follow the gravel road …).
Off to make my request ...
The caretakers were not home, so I wrote my request (hastily;
as I could hear a BIG dog barking wildly and didn’t know where it was, or how
close it was); and left it where I hoped they’d see it. And understand what
my chicken scratch was conveying.
Caretakers weren't home - so I wrote my request; sloppy because I was upset and shaky.
And placed it where I am hoping they will see it.
I hope my request will not be viewed offensively. That is not my intent. I just want the marker left alone.
Bob's cremains are not where people assume them to be - that marker identifies WHERE they actually ARE.
I've done what I can do; I can't let this upset rule my day.
I'll need to wash the car this weekend.
But I wanted to get as much of this thing settled as I possibly could, today.
People need to respect widowhood and
understand that PTSD is a very real thing with widows ... it is hard to come to grips with. It is
hard to live with. It is triggered by even the smallest thing someone else
would think, " Why are you upset about that?"
Widowhood affects every aspect of our life – especially our
emotions. We don’t feel the same way we used to. We don’t
think the same way we used to. We don’t speak the same way. We don’t react the
same way. We respond differently. We’re not the same as we were before: we
are different people. Half of us is missing! We are doing the
best we can to walk through this life with an amputated heart and an altered
state of being. We don’t need people messing with our stuff, or messing
with our head. We learn to accept the life that we have – now, in the moment
– but it’s seriously altered.
We move in it, in a different way.
We are now different people.
We need everyone else to respect our boundaries, and not set
us back a pace … or two … by actions, such as what I experienced this
afternoon.
Widowhood catapults one into a PTSD state of being - and I have to work extra hard to win the victory, because I don’t use drugs, or seek outside 'help'.
Thank God I have Yeshua in my life; thank God for the friends He places in my life.
NOTE: Later in the day, I was given a number to call to request the
mowers leave the stake where it is, in the future. An explanation was given as to {why}: to make
room for the mower. Apologies were given – and accepted. And next time I
am in that area, I will take a tape measure with me, and set the marker accurately.
The person who moved it didn’t understand the significance of it being where
it was: now they do.
A dicey situation was resolved (all the people involved
are Bob’s cousins; 2nd cousins & Family Cemetery). And, my
mind eased; I was able to enjoy my weekly Jam Session 😊
