My life has changed so much since December 2018. I remarried January 7th, 2023 ... we sold the house, sold our vehicles - and bought a new 4x, a puppy, & a 5th Wheel to travel the mainland States and experience life in the slow lane. As always I record e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. happening in my life: I will share lots of pics & vids of our USA travels: I hope you enjoy our Blog.
When she was a little girl they told her she was beautiful but it had no meaning in her world of bicycles and pigtails and adventures in make-believe.
Later, she hoped she was beautiful as boys started taking notice of her friends and phones rang for Saturday night dates.
She felt beautiful on her wedding day, hopeful with her new life partner by her side
but, later, when her children called her beautiful, she was often exhausted, her hair messily tied back, no make up, wide in the waist where it used to be narrow; she just couldn't take it in.
Over the years, as she tried, in fits and starts, to look beautiful, she found other things to take priority, like bills and meals, as she and her life partner worked hard to make a family, to make ends meet, to make children into adults, to make a life.
Now, she sat. Alone. Her children grown, her partner flown, and she couldn't remember the last time she was called beautiful.
But she was.
It was in every line on her face, in the strength of her arthritic hands, the ampleness that had a million hugs imprinted on its very skin, and in the jiggly thighs and thickened ankles that had run her race for her.
She had lived her life with a loving and generous heart, had wrapped her arms around so many to to give them comfort and peace. Her ears had heard both terrible news and lovely songs, and her eyes had brimmed with, oh, so many tears, they were now bright even as they dimmed.
She had lived and she was. And because she was, she was made beautiful.
The other day a not so elderly (I say 75) lady said something to her son about driving a Jalopy; and he looked at her quizzically and said, "What the heck is a Jalopy?" He had never heard of the word jalopy! She knew she was old ... But not that old.
Well, I hope you are Hunky Dory after you read this and chuckle.
About a month ago, I illuminated some old expressions that have become obsolete because of the inexorable march of technology. These phrases included: Don't touch that dial, Carbon copy, You sound like a broken record, and Hung out to dry.
Back in the olden days we had a lot of moxie. We'd put on our best bib and tucker, to straighten up and fly right.
Heavens to Betsy! Gee whillikers! Jumping Jehoshaphat! Holy Moley!
We were in like Flynn and living the life of Riley; and even a regular guy couldn't accuse us of being a knucklehead, a nincompoop or a pill. Not for all the tea in China!
Back in the olden days, life used to be swell, but when's the last time anything was swell? Swell has gone the way of beehives, pageboys and the DA.; of spats, knickers, fedoras, poodle skirts, saddle shoes, and pedal pushers.
Oh, my aching back! Kilroy was here, but he isn't anymore.
We wake up from what surely has been just a short nap, and before we can say, "Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle!" Or, "This is a fine kettle of fish!" We discover that the words we grew up with, the words that seemed omnipresent, as oxygen, have vanished with scarcely a notice from our tongues and our pens and our keyboards.
Poof, go the words of our youth, the words we've left behind. We blink, and they're gone. Where have all those great phrases gone?
Long gone: Pshaw, The milkman did it. Hey! It's your nickel. Don't forget to pull the chain. Knee high to a grasshopper. Well, Fiddlesticks! Going like sixty. I'll see you in the funny papers. Don't take any wooden nickels. Wake up and smell the roses.
It turns out there are more of these lost words and expressions than Carter has liver pills. This can be disturbing stuff! (Carter's Little Liver Pills are gone too!)
We of a certain age have been blessed to live in changeable times.
For a child each new word is like a shiny toy, a toy that has no age. We at the other end of the chronological arc have the advantage of remembering there are words that once did not exist and there were words that once strutted their hour upon the earthly stage and now are heard no more, except in our collective memory. It's one of the greatest advantages of aging!
Leaves us to wonder where Superman will find a phone booth...
See ya later, alligator! After 'while crocodile. Okidoki.
You'll notice they left out "Monkey Business"!!!
We came from another time and childhood. NO ONE WILL EVER HAVE THAT OPPORTUNITY AGAIN ... WE WERE GIVEN ONE OF OUR MOST PRECIOUS GIFTS: LIVING IN THE PEACEFUL AND COMFORTABLE TIMES, CREATED FOR US BY THE "GREATEST GENERATION!" :-D
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Everything I think always leads to a song – this post made me think of this song ;-)
Bob liked Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young.I liked Young ... and Tom Jones. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young are SO STONED.
I am sitting here in my livingroom watching the rain softly fall, and hearing jake brakes on the backroad that runs the back end of the Park here at Heron Pointe. Bob drove “big rig” trucks … before and after … I married him; 17 years locally, before he retired 8 years ago. I never got the hang of stick driving (though Bob did try to teach me for years), but I always liked the sound of a big rig throttling down.
Bob with his family in Toutle –
this would have been during his 1st marriage, when he & Gloria were
separated - Bob would have been about 20 yo at the time: Bob Sr., Bonnie, Bob
Jr. (my Bob), Merry & Kerry. Bob drove big-rig trucks about half of his working life; he learned with his Dad's trucks when he was a pre-teen. 1969
Yesterday morning while grocery shopping at Winco, the lady in front of me was unloading her cart … and already bagging her things as I moved to the end of the conveyor belt to start bagging mine while the rest was being rung up. We got to chatting while bagging, and during the convo I said, “I’ve been bagging groceries for 50 years – and I’m fast; but man! I miss my man jumping in and helping me when I have this much to bag. This year, I’m on my own.” She looked up at me, and said, “Me too. Of course, I’ve been on my own for quite a while – I was widowed in 1996.” 24 years! I said, “It’s hard to come to terms with, isn’t it? It’s a major adjustment. In every way.” She nodded her head, and said, “Yes. You know, it never gets better … it just gets different.”
We could relate.
Her & I.
We understand.
Widowhood: it’s just a word. It can’t adequately be explained to those who don’t feel it/live it/KNOW it.
We talked the same language because we walk the same walk.
She’s 8,760 days into her widow’s walk – I’m just 410 days into my solo loboing.
It doesn’t get better … it just gets different.
Most days I’m okay. Really.
Other days, things are still pretty much disjointed, and I’m flying blind.
Since December 14th, 2019, I’ve written a lot of words – both on my personal FB Page, and here on my personal Blog – trying to convey how the alteration to my life had changed my life on every level; and to try to put into coherent sentences what walking with Grief every second of every day this past year has been like.
But there really aren’t any words that can adequately explain the unending sense of loss. There are no words to adequately explain the brutal physical and emotional pain that assails a widow. How can one put into words the agonizing pain of heartache with the loss of spouse … coupled with the heartbreak of familial abandonment? Much is made of the deep-rooted traumas and PTS symptoms soldier families and Vets experience: but precious little attention is given to the grieving widow who has literally lost e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.; and is expected to “soldier up and march forward” with head up and goosey-loosey steps.
I know I am not unique in my experiences.
I have heard my life story from the lips of many of the widows and widowers I have come in contact with over the past 410 days.
It is sad that I find myself taking comfort in knowing I am not alone in what I have come to experience.
It is equally sad that I will never again be that giddily happy in this lifetime – that euphoric feeling of being someone else’s ‘first priority’; of being Queen Bee of my King Bee’s hive is over ... no more 'Honeybee'.
And the changes wrought go even deeper than that. The changes that have come into my life as my husband left it to enjoy Life beyond the clouds; the changes that have come in the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months … and year + 1 month and 14 days as 1 by 1 familial members swarmed around to see what they could walk away with before they dropped out of sight – and out of mind was startling – then became liberating. As familial abandonment took place, and people dropped out of my life, I underwent a catharsis; I have become a different person: my mental and emotional Self changed. I am no longer the person any of them knew before, in my past life.
I no longer accept emotional abuse “for the sake of family cohesiveness”.
I no longer tolerate bullshit “for the sake of family cohesiveness”.
I no longer chase after people “for the sake of family cohesiveness”.
I no longer give takers place in my life.
Bob is no longer here … and everyone else has fallen away: there is no more “family cohesiveness” - not even a pretense like before.
Now, I am operating on focusing on what is best for Moi; and I don’t see that as being selfish.
All my life, as far back as I can remember, I was responsible for everyone else and their happiness.
I liked making Bob happy. And Bob spent his time making sure I was happy too. Family cohesiveness was important to Bob; so, I tried – I went above and beyond to keep the family unit together. At the expense of my own happiness.
But now Bob is no longer here.
And I’m done being everyone else’s whipping boy.
I am making time to be someone else’s Numero Uno: ME. I chose me.
Before Bob, there was only me. Always, only me. While I was sacrificing my childhood, my teen years, and my life to make sure my siblings had a childhood and enjoyed their teens years … no one was concerned about me - not my party hardy mother or my narcissistic siblings.
Only me – I was concerned about me; but I had no time to focus on me.
After Bob, I was focused on Us – making a life with the love of my life and building a home: Bob came with a 4 year old son, and I immediately got pregnant before the Honeymoon week was out. Bob loved me, and was focused on me and my happiness: I was focused on him and the kids – Bob had died twice the first 7 years of our life together, and the kids were growing up: ‘me’ never stood a chance; again, 'me' was shoved aside for the betterment of others. The kids moved into their rebellious teen and angry young adult lives … and grew away from us. Far, faaaaaar away from us. But We still had Us. The kids, because they chose to become Society’s Children, are boomerang missiles … showing up now and then on radar, touching down in our back yard, blowing the hell out of our peacefulness, and dropping off the radar again. Until they needed, or wanted something. This went on for decades. Family was important to Bob, and I liked making Bob happy. Family cohesiveness was important to Bob; so, I tried – I went above and beyond to keep the family unit together. At the expense of my own happiness.
But now Bob is no longer here.
And, at 63 years of age, I’m done being everyone else’s whipping boy.
I am making time to be someone else’s Numero Uno: ME. I chose me.
Before Bob, there was only me. Always, only me – a solo lobo. And now, there is only me again. And I’m okay with that.
I admit though, that I really liked – and enjoyed being Bob’s main priority: I loved Bob all my life, from the time my eyes saw him when I was 10 years old – and he was 17, and didn’t know I existed. It was hard, those first months of widowhood. To be demoted in a heartbeat, and to have my entire world turned upside down and shaken so viciously. It had been a long time (44 years to be exact) since I had had such maleficence aimed at me with such precision. Bob and his love had always protected me from that – Bob knew my background, and made it his life’s purpose to make sure I never had to feel that kind of pain again. Under the umbrella of his love, and loving ministrations, I thrived and flourished. And under the umbrella of Bob’s love I will continue to thrive and flourish.
For the first 10 months of widowhood, I was run ragged with legalities and trying to find some semblance of Bob’s essence in the people and places we knew together. I gave up entirely the first part of November 2019 – there was nothing of Bob in any of those people, or those places. Those people, who could so casually cast me aside, and cruelly try to destroy his character out of bitter sibling rivalries (my sister, Bob’s mother & brother, our children …) never knew Bob at all – they certainly weren’t honoring his memory with their childish and churlish actions and behaviors. It took 10 months for me to finally quit hanging on, and let go; and I truly am enjoying the peace.
I remember the day clearly that I just quit running around like a chicken with its head cut off. After being treated so shamefully, I quit chasing after people, hoping for something they could never give – they can’t love me when they are incapable of loving themselves. I resolved that day to never again allow myself to be placed in a position where my dignity would suffer such a catastrophic blow.
I don’t know exactly where my life is headed … or how to get there, yet. But I’m actively working on it – and my spotty GPS is becoming a little more reliable.
I will build a new life.
I will build a new family nucleolus – it may not be blood of my blood, and bone of my bone … but it will welcome me, it will nourish my soul, and it will help me walk this new life journey I am now forced to walk; and expected to handle confidently.
Now, that I no longer have to be responsible for anyone but myself, I don’t have to “have it all together” all the time: my new life has taught me that it’s okay not to be okay all the time – it’s okay to fall apart, to cry, to get upset, to be vulnerable … and still be strong, courageous, bold, and kickass victorious.
There is only me to bolster now – and I’m okay with myself. I have reverted back to the badass person I was before Bob joined his life with my life: Me, Myself & I are a pretty good team ;-)
And I am learning that love comes in many forms, from many sources. So, now I am receiving and giving love – from and for old and new friends; from and for strangers.
I am loving simply because love is.
I am not talking about, or even referring to romantic love.
I am talking about love in its purity: Big Love, aka.: Agape Love.
But, mostly, I am talking about Love of Life.
Love is full of possibilities.
There are 320 days full of possibilities before me.
I am open to whatever those days hold for me.
I am open to whatever encompasses Love in those 320 days.
I am going to love my life as a solo lobo as I loved my life with my husband – straight on, all in, and full out: wholly, madly, fiercely, completely, and unconditionally. I will love my new life the way my husband loved me in my old life, when he walked with me side by side.
I will diligently work to live a solid life around … and despite … grief that shadows me. I can be loving in all that I do; I am a Christian in spite if being a widow. Bob showed me how to live life with wild abandon and respect for the day present.
Love conquers all – Yeshua said it, and Bob exampled it.
Cipollone, Philbin, & Sekulow all gave powerful messages.
Cipollone's opening and closing statements were to the point - and in his closing statements, used ALL the House Manager's 1998 words against them concerning the very actions they are employing in their vengeful and spiteful lynching attempt today.
Sekulow, as always, is superbly spot on when it comes to Constitutional Law ... IT'S HIS JOB: every day; not just during his appointment as The President's Legal Team; Jay's main job, every day, IS as a Constitutional Lawyer, arguing Constitutional Law. When I decided to remove my children from public school, I contacted jay first - then, armed with Jay's response letter, talked to our hometown lawyer and removed my children within the hour.
In this impeachment dog and pony show put on by the obama's demoncrat lapdogs, Jay referenced step by step how UNLAWFUL EVERYTHING THEY DO IS - from employing the FBI to investigate Trump when he was a private citizen, up to this very unlawful day in Court - purely for malevolent reasons. The hypocrisy of the demoncrat Senators running for Presidential Office to be sitting in judgment of The President further undermines the demoncrat case and highlight's the opposition's lack of moral substance WHILE they are screaming or morality in judgment towards the man they hate and are itching to replace.
Payback for clinton's impeachment is NO REAL CASE for impeachment of Donald J, Trump.
Today I went grocery shopping; and also bought some Oregano Oil:https://www.theepochtimes.com/how-to-use-oregano-oil-for-colds-and-flu_3082156.html. I avoid pharmaceutical medicines whenever I can.Bob's brother, Kerry, had told me about oregano
oil, months ago (he has used it for years); and today I finally got around to
getting some.
Everyone had told me that it was "nasty tasting", "HOT! - run for water when you use it" ... I was expecting the worst. Maybe that is why it took me so long to get it ;-)
Anyway. I bought it - I came home - I used it.
It wasn't that bad - and, I found out, when talking to Kerry afterwards, that I had taken too much (I took a whole dropper full). It really didn't taste that bad.
Not nearly as "hot!" as chomping on garlic cloves <:-O
And if it does what it is said to do, I'm thinking between the oregano oil and the garlic - I'm going to slay those lurking 'bugs' stalking me :-D
This natural approach to medicines, I learned from my Grandma Brockway, who treated my weak lungs with a vapor bath the 1st month we moved to Minnesota around 1963 time-frame: I had an asthma attack right off, and she calmly made a blanket tent in the kitchen (attached the blanket to a ceiling hook), boiled a pan of water, pitched a handful of herbs into the water, took me - with the pan of water - into the blanket tent, and held me all night long on her lap; replacing the water/herbs when necessary. I never forgot that.
Grandma Brockway. I loved her. She had 16 children - only 14 survived
And for the rest of my life, I chose herbal remedies over pharmaceutical medicines.
If you use Oregano Oil, be sure to wash your hands after using the dropper and handling the jar because it will smart if you touch your eyes … or other sensitive areas of your body … with fingertips where residue lingers.
If you get some Oregano Oil, be sure to get the one with the highest concentration of Carvacrol - that's the 'medicine'.
I avoid pharmaceutical medicines whenever I can: sticking by-and large to nature's medicines.
Just use 4 teeny-weenie drips x4 a day (16 minuscule drips).
After
I “dosed” myself, put groceries away, and ate Supper – I watched the defense
for President Trump. I am thinking this purely partisan charade the demoncrats
insisted on dragging Americas through, will end with an acquittal.
But, it has served its purpose – NOW people can clearly SEE what the demoncrats are all about. They will use any excuse, and any venue to destroy America; and snarily snub their noses in the faces of Americans. pelosi and her gang of rats needs to be routed and run out of town.
