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.
I woke up this morning thinking of Merle Haggard’s song, “Where The Lonely Go”.
Most of the time I’m not really lonely: I miss Bob, but it’s different than the lonelies.
But I have been feeling the lonelies lately since the blowout with the kids. I have friends – I go places – I do things …. but when the day’s activities stop, and friends go home, and the lights are turned down … there’s loneliness all around.
Like I said earlier this week – I lost my entire family this year. And none of them are coming back; I’m starting to feel it. It isn’t a nice feeling.
While I am not hitting the bars or singles scene, I was chasing after Bob's essence by trying to keep the kids in my life because he hoped his death would bring the family together. But, all avenues to that road has been closed. The kids don’t like each other … and they harbor an unjustifiable hatred towards me. It’s sad. It dishonors their father – and I don’t deserve the bitterness aimed at me.
Add to that frustration, my husband’s killers still walk around: I don’t have anything to do with them; but I still see them, because they live where I live. And greed & bitterness has taken the rest out of my life. I really can’t deal with other people’s bullshit right now. I’m STILL grieving the absence of my husband in my life - I don't need or want any more trauma dramas in my life: I have always has a low tolerance for drama queens. I don't make a place for them in my life or rent them space in my head. People think I should be over grieving by now, but every day there’s some new wrinkle in the fabric of my life to face & overcome. And it makes the missing of Bob more acute; the pain of that sharp heartache is felt again … I don’t know when that will go away. So, while everyone is sitting around asking, ‘isn’t she over it yet?’ – I’m asking the same thing: “when will I ever get over it? Why am I not over it yet?” I can’t answer that question.
I may never get over it. And I do not need resentful or emotionally dead people draining me like energy vampires. Grief is hard enough to overcome without constantly being sucked back under by the energy vampires.
But my friends, the people who love me, actively pursue me to include me, & WANT me in their lives, have stuck.
While the people I thought would love me, have bailed. There’s no love there. They don’t HOW to love is the problem. They just don’t know how to love. They’ve never learned how to take their eyes off themselves. They’ve never learned how to look past themselves to be empathetic and compassionate towards others. They don’t know how to love.
And, truthfully, Bob didn’t know how to love either when we were first married. I mean, he loved ME – there was no doubt about THAT. He told me – he showed me – he proved that he loved me. Every day. He loved me. But, he didn’t know how to love outside his immediate circle; I had to teach him that – he didn’t know that instinctively. I can love everybody; I don’t have to agree with them to love them. I don’t love everybody on the same level that I love Bob, of course, because my love for Bob is different: it’s more deeper – it’s more passionate – it’s more internal – it’s more inclusive. It’s special. Bob completed me; and I completed Bob. We were 2 halves coming together to make a whole. But I can love people in general - even while keeping my heart safe. Bob had to be taught that. Because his family is very self-centered & self-serving. They don’t think about anybody else outside their circle. It’s a genetic flaw that runs through the family gene pool (our kids seem to have drawn a double on that flaw). And that’s not just me saying his family is flawed; I have had other people tell me the same thing. People that know the family. They have told me, even recently upon hearing of Bob’s passing, “Bob’s family is strange. They have a strange family dynamic – it’s like they have no feelings.” I wouldn’t go that far, but I do agree that they are shallow people. And they have favorites; not only do they not look outside the family circle (for them, ‘the family’ is “it”: they don’t include outsiders that are not blooded family members), they have favorites within the family circle. Those are the ones all the attention is given to, and the ‘oohs & ahhs’ are given. They don’t look past those favorites. When forced to acknowledge anyone else, they give a cursory nod and move along … to the favorites, totally ignoring the collateral damage left in their self-centered wake. While putting the discs of Bob's life on reel into the laptop disc player, and watching the black and white silent home movies unfold, I can see that Bob was lost in the familial shuffle. It is sad. Bob wasn't used to overt displays of love when we started dating. I liked touching him, hugging him, kissing him, and loving on him ... he got used to it and passed hugging onto his family: now they all hug all the time. His mother is still stiff-backed when she attempts to hug me, but I chalk that up to she has never fully accepted me into the family. Her loss. I'm a pretty good person to know. And love. Maybe some day they ... and our children ... will all learn how to fully love and extend that love outside {the circle}: I don't think I will live to see that day dawn. MPO
Bob, after we got married, watched me and started being more accepting of other people; and had friends that he made when he started opening up that remained close friends – lifelong friends. He found out that loving and being loved is fun. He learned to give love, and credited that to my loving him and teaching him to love. He became love personified because he gave it so freely. It was always there, inside him … he just had to learn how to unlock it and live life fully.And I liked watching that. I liked watching him ‘become’; I liked watching him opening up and unfurling. And including people - who were not family members - into his life.
It wasa nice Fall day today; the weather was perfect. A nice bright Fall day with wood smoke on the air and color all around. I’m feeling okay about doing the Bazaar ;-)
Sign will be placed along the road way tomorrow morning.
I arrived at the grange a little after noon, and saw other vendors struggling to get their bins out of their vehicles and into the building while their husbands just sat in the vehicles. Not even offering to help. I was immediately SO thankful that Bob was a good husband to me and helped me, no matter what I was doing. Bob was a true husband. Elohim really blessed me when we brought us together.
The 2 tables I rented - they are in a good location.
Everything was laid out kinda hodge-podge. I'm still in a foggy funk. But I think the fog will lift tomorrow when people start showing up. I always enjoyed doing the Bazzars: I want to enjoy it again ...
I enjoyed designing and making my items. I think quite a bit of it will walk off to new homes Friday & Saturday. The social interactions will be good too :-D
I’m working real hard at building a new life that will keep the lonelies at bay. I want to see life through colorful lens again. Doing this Bazaar should help along those lines - Judy, the event coordinator, remembered me & we had a nice long chat while I started setting up. She was sorry to hear about Bob. Being in a friendly environment with familiar people and atmosphere will kelp ease me into my new life, I am sure. Please, Elohim.
That would help me heal; and that would honor Bob.
This year, I am going to
do 1 Bazaar and see how it goes … I am hoping I can do this. I NEED to do this.
Bob would WANT me to do this.
It is hard to get out and
do things without Bob; it is hard to get back into the swing of doing things
solo, when for so long I had been doing things as a couple.
In about an hour I will be
heading out to Pleasant Hill Grange to set up my Bazaar tables there – it has
been a while since I have been out that way; it is a nice country drive. I
haven’t done a Bazaar event since 2016. Bob had done Bazaar events with me since
retirement; he would haul the bins in/out of the vehicles on the folding dolly;
and I would unload them and set things in place for display/tear the tables
down afterwards, and restock the bins with what did not sell. In the between
times, Bob would visit with other vendors and people watch, occasionally helping
with the selling when I needed to stretch my legs a bit.
2017 I did no Bazaar events
because we had finally gotten into our new home after all the remodeling, and I
was setting our home up to make it comfy and cozy for Bob & I.
2018 I did no Bazaar events
because I was sitting death watch with my husband in 2 hospitals in 2 different
States; coming to terms with the loss of my friend, husband, soul-mate.
Never a day goes by that I
am not reminded of those heartbreaking days of Bob's impending physical death.
And to add salt to the wound, 10 months, 24 days, 1 hour & 5 minutes
following ... there is no family left.
No husband.
No children.
No grandchildren.
No relatives.
Nothing.
Death changes e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.
Everything is surreal ...
**********
{{1 Year Ago, today – November 7, 2018/6:30 AM (Posted to our FB Page:
I want to thank everyone who has prayed for Bob and me during
this trying time.
Bob has stabilized as of last night before I left ICU to come
home; but he still has a long row to hoe. He has consented to and is now using
potent narcotics to dull the severe pain. He will more than likely remain in
the hospital until Thursday - possibly the weekend, depending on what happens
between now and then. I did talk to his nurse around 4:30 a.m. this morning and
she told me he managed to sleep a total of 5 hours
after I left until my phone call this morning ... that is great news! But we
would prefer him to be supernaturally healed, off the meds, and back home in
his own bed. BUT he has managed to give his testimony of how he got saved in
1981 to all his attendants, and to the chaplain that visited his room last
night while I was there :-D
Please continue to hold us up in your prayers. Pray this is a
good day for Bob, that he won't miss me too much or be too bored after I leave,
and that I can safely get back home tonight; I will leave the hospital before
dark tonight as the fog was very thick last night and the road was hard to see.
Thank you all so much for your prayers. Elohim hears them,
Yeshua acts on them, and the Ruach Ha'Kodesh helps us to confidently stand
strong while they are being attended to. It really helps knowing we are not
alone. Elohei will bless each of you that stand with us and for us. Shalom ~Val
1 Year Ago, today – November 7, 2018/4:04 PM (Posted to
our FB Page: I was up at 4:30 a.m.
this morning and at the hospital by 7:30 a.m., but didn’t get to spend much
time with my luv because the day was ate up with appointments to discuss
financial arrangements for everything the docs want to do that we simply cannot
afford: it all sounds good and the docs feel good when they are telling it to
us, but most of it is out of our reach unless we can tap financial resources to
pay for all of it. 98% of what they are talking about is NOT covered under the Hospital
Bridge Program.
I talked with the
hospital social worker twice today – the first time she was not really
understanding what we are dealing with and was kinda talking down to me like I
was a spoiled simpleton telling me, “I deal with people who have nothing – zero
– you have resources to draw from …”; I pretty much tuned her out at that
point. It was clear she was ignorant of the grand scope and severity of the
situation. But when I spoke with her the second time, she was a little more
compassionate and had been schooled by her co-worker as to what we are actually
dealing with … and ended up in tears while going over “the plan” and sheaves of
financial resources with me. I actually felt sorry for her and ended up
soothing her!
Then when I got home
and collected the mail I whooped for joy when I read this letter that said:
((((APPROVED)))) This is a HUGE load off our shoulders. This approval is GOOD
FOR A YEAR!
Doing the happy dance
:-D}}
Bob coming to terms with impending physical death.
Surgery was approved and ALL medical bills
were covered - they racked up fast.
Bob was prepped for the approved surgery. Neck stint put in; waiting for
the call from OHSU. We went through this THREE times because OHSU did not have a bed for Bob immediately and transport kept being put on hold.
Leg massaging cuffs were put on his legs – they really didn’t stop the
spreading edema, which was a direct result of the saline IV drip.
But, as you all know, the surgery was not a
success …
… and Bob now resides beyond the clouds in our happy celestial
Home where he waits for me.
It is a battle; every day.
I still believe this …
I NEED this Bazaar this
year to jump-start my new solo lobo life.
I need color in my life again.
This
Bazaar event will not bring Bob back. It will not fix the shattered familial
damage. It cannot change the landscape of my new and untraveled life’s journey.
BUT it CAN bring color back into my life. And it CAN help ease me back into a
social life.
I went to my Keenager thingee
this afternoon: saw my "family" there (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/05/youve-got-friend.html),
and they are glad I am not moving - these people, a group of about 6 now,
literally adopted me last January after learning Bob had entered Heaven's
Pearly Gate. They love me, and look forward to seeing & spending time with
me ... and visa versa.
On the way home, I swung by the
Kelso Senior Center (https://kelsoseniors.wixsite.com/ksca)and checked it out - my heart was pounding like a trip-hammer: it is HARD to do things without Bob (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/08/one-is-loneliness-number.html): I got used to
having Bob by my side, doing things together constantly for 44 years; soloing
is tricky - it plays with the emotions. The Kelso Senior Center is more my
style than the fancy Longview Senior Center on Commerce. I'm not a fancy
person; Grange's work for me ;-) The membership fee is minimal, and there are
some events I am interested in doing, so I am thinking about becoming a member.
It will give me something to fill my time, something to look forward to, and
something to enjoy. On a small scale. I am comfortable with 'small'.
2 Kelso
Senior Center Group Events coming up is a Craft Fair Caravan on November 30th,
& a daytrip to Leavenworth, December 11th. Both will cost - the Leavenworth
all-day event being the most expensive, BUT THAT WOULD BE FUN! The week-long
Mount Baker/Leavenworth 'belated honeymoon trip' Bob planned for me in
September 2014 will always be a cherished memory (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/09/bob-was-romantic-fella.html): we had been
married 40 years at that time, and Bob wanted to give me the honeymoon we never
got because we married in a heated rush and life started happening at turbo
speed ;-) I miss getting into the mountains since becoming a Widow, and
this would be a way to get into the mountains again - I would get home
around 9 p.m., or so, but it is SO worth it: Leavenworth is a beautiful place.
I have never seen it in the Winter time. The trip could be considered an early
Birthday Gift to myself. The mountains are calling, and I must go :-DThis would be a HUGE step out of my
comfort zone - I don't normally do group things.
I took this picture of a framed
picture in our Bavarian Lodge room in 2014 when we stayed over in Leavenworth.
Bob laughed because all our married life "the mountains called me & I
told him, 'I must go'" ... Bob took me faithfully into 1 of the mountains (Bob
took me alternately into all of the mountains in WA, OR, and over the Blue
Mountains into Idaho) every month. Crossing the Sierra's in 2014; and the Rockies & Appalachian Mountains in 2017, was also wonderful adventures with my loving husband.
I
LIKE Bingo - and have been teased about that all my life. But, I think Bingo is
fun. And before I married Bob, I was really very good at winning Bingo games -
always took a prize home with me :-D There are other activities too, but these are the
ones I am interested in at the moment.
On
another note ... I will be participating in a Bazaar this Friday & Saturday
at the Pleasant Hill Grange:
I
have done that Bazaar twice by myself, and 4 times with Bob. It will be strange
doing it solo again, but it is familiar and I think I can do it without feeling
too uptight. Sometimes when I do things I used to do with Bob, my chest feels
squeezed - and I did feel a little squeezed when I signed on; but I am going to
try it. I need to get back in the swing of things. I will set up my tables
tomorrow at noon. In the past, I used to do an average of 8 Bazaars from
the end of October to the middle of December - and Bob would help me bring the
bins in and then sit back and watch people while I sold my handcrafted items,
but Bob is not here now; and I am learning to step out on my own again. This
will be the only Bazaar I will be doing this year. Baby steps ...
The hybrid dwarf Maple tree
outside the Dining room, & Livingroom is putting on its brilliant Fall
colors.
Packing the Bazaar Bins & pics of some of the newest things I've made …
MOD Knit ‘Turkey Kitchen Towel
Set’ w-crochet trim & matching Dishcloth. $10/set
MOD Crochet Angel Dishcloth - Blonde, Brunette, Raven, and Redhead ;-) $4/EA
MOD Crochet Rudolph Baby Blanket with Pom-pom Snowball/Pinecone trim. $30
MOD Knit Back-Zip Baby Hoodie w-Pom-pom Panda trim - Pink, Blue, Yellow, Lilac, & White. $20/EA
MOD Crochet Pencil Toppers - Thanksgiving & Old World Santa. $4/EA
MOD Crochet Holiday Pot Handle Holders, Holiday Hot Hats Lid Knob Covers, Holiday Casserole Ears Hotpad Pairs, & Holiday Holiday Dish Scrubbies. $4/EA OR $10/Set of 4 pieces
She reminds me of a younger me; and this song {fits} the me I am falling back on in my new {becoming} life status.
9 days ago, I was called to pack my duffel and “come to us tonight” … so, I did. I had been packing up the house for the move anyway (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/10/moving-into-future.html). Everything was going fine, until this past Friday morning, when things went south at turbo speed.
So.
I will not be moving after all.
My grandchildren have been traumatized & I have been emotionally abused and openly humiliated.
There was NO real reason for this to happen: none … except a twisted obsession to exact revenge for preconceived past “wrongs” she felt I had done to her. Out of the blue. One minute we are talking – the next, she is shouting at me and ordering me out of the house.
Out of the blue.
I WAS ASKED TO COME HELP THEM. I came. I do not need someone to put a roof over my head, food on my table, or clothes on my back … but I was willing to HELP WITH THOSE THINGS. For my grandchildren’s sake's. But neither of Bob’s children cannot get past themselves – they are obsessed with putting me “in your place”.
Bob’s son: and our daughter.
They are both intent on hurting me. Deeply.
Friday went above and beyond – she was cruel.
I was treated like I was incompetent (“You are in the city now”; “Old-school thinking doesn’t apply now”; “We believe in socialism: believing in a 2,000 years old deity is delusional”); I was told I could not talk (“YOU do NOT get to talk”); I was told to go to my room (“GO to your room!”): I was treated like a 3 year old. For no reason at all, except she could do it. It was a muscle flexing-power-trip on steroids.
Then, she started lying to my face about my husband - I had, in July, gone through the SAME situation with Bob's son. I said I did not believe what she was telling me – she said, “Get out of my house if you are calling me a liar.” I asked, “Can I at least get dressed?” She shouted, “You always have to get the last word in – get out of my house!” So, I grabbed my things and went to stand in the stairwell while I waited for my car to get back from downtown.
I refused to cry.
Other apartment tenants are walking through the stairwell breezeway. They see me standing there.
In my pajamas; surrounded by my things.
When my car gets back, I start loading my stuff into it.
I have to retrace and undo EVERYTHING WE HAD JUST SET N PLACE A FEW HOURS AGO, on Thursday: at the Social Security Office, and the Bank.
I start getting mad. I am literally in my fricking pajamas, running all over the place trying to right my life again so that when I get back home, I will have an income – and closing the new bank account so I won’t be thrown in jail for having 2 active bank accounts in 2 States (the plan was to come home Monday and close the account back home). All the while, my thoughts are centered on the lies our children boldly told me to destroy my life – they weren’t simply satisfied to hurt me … they had to spitefully go after my marriage, which was sacred to their father & me (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/10/for-him-for-me.html): neither one could leave that alone while they systematically cut me to ribbons.
I know they lied.
I KNEW my husband.
I was aware of every $ that came into our home, was deposited into our JOINT banking account – I knew every $ that went out of our home and our joint banking account: I WAS THE BOOKEEPER. Bob made sure of that before the ink was even dry on our Marriage License: every paycheck & CASH transaction that was deposited, I was present – and Bob HANDED ME THE TRANSCRIPT to note. There was not a single financial decision that I did not have the final word on. There was NO secret goings on behind my back between him and the kids. NONE.
There was NO {deathbed conversation} between them and their father. NEVER HAPPENED. Bob could not talk by the time they stood at his bedside in those final hours – BOB’S TONGUE WAS NOT USABLE. Bob had not been allowed (doctors’ orders) to drink water or even suck ice cubes for days in the hospital before he physically died: ALL HE WAS ALLOWED was the saline IV drip ... Bob was seriously dehydrated due to his medical condition. Dehydration had seriously cracked, peeled, and split his tongue:BOB COULD NOT TALK.
And YET they persisted that what was being shouted at me was what took place. Like I had not been in the hospital room when they were present –I NEVER LEFT THE HOSPITAL ROOM; I had been with Bob, on the spot 24/7.
Bob could not talk: he had not been able to talk for at least a week. I almost vomited when I saw his tongue. My stomach STILL lurches when my mind goes there …
I realized then that there would never be a relationship with our children. Ever.
They lied about my husband. To my face. They lied about a man WHO HAS DIED AND CANNOT DEFEND HIMSELF against their spiteful & bitter angst's.
They went above and beyond – they weren’t content to simply hurt me, they want to destroy me. They are permanently excluded from my life.
I literally felt my heart break.
The hatred towards me was palpable; it was physical – it could be felt.
They live in their heads & can’t get past their self-serving narcissism. They have willingly trapped themselves in the past where their preconceived wrongs have become bigger than life and have taken on a life of their own, poisoning everything they now do and say in the present; and it is handicapping them from an enjoyable future. Reality has taken a back seat while they nurture the beast of bitterness.
Consequently, they have been cut from my life, never to enter it again; for the 1st time in their lives, Bob’s children share something in common. Banishment – they can ride the crazy train together: I am getting off. They have nursed grievances they perceive as deep personal wrongs over the past 4 decades until the accusations no longer resemble the original instances: they are literally being eaten alive by the bitterness maggots; I cannot apologize for a past that no longer exists. And I refuse to listen to lies. This has been an ongoing angst for 44 years, and every year the grievance lists get more fantastical.
I feel like a fool for believing they loved me and wanted me near them. But, I WILL NEVER FEEL LIKE A FOOL AGAIN.
I am back home now, picking up the pieces of a shattered life and trying the best I can to build a new life. The Friday blowout with the kids has catapulted me into a fresh grieving cycle.
And I am finding myself distrusting anyone concerning anything; again.
My ‘Give a Damn’ is busted.
I am moving on.
Solo.
I blocked their numbers on my phone and deleted the contacts entirely: they can’t reach me ever again to hurt me with their poison tongues. In 10 months’ time I have literally lost my entire family. It is strange to suddenly be totally alone after 45 years … but I can learn to enjoy the peace; finally. This morning I woke up feeling myself “becoming” (the only word I can think of at the moment to describe the feeling) from my head to my toes. Catharsis is taking place. I am in the process of a complete healing, and in separating from them, I can begin a healthy grieving.
If they don’t give a damn about me … I don’t give a damn about them. I don’t need their pity-party bullshit pulling me down and making the process harder than it needs to be.
I can focus 100% ON ME and what I need to get on with life the way Bob would want me to. Seeking peace. Expecting, at some point, to feel happy again.
ALL my life I have been responsible for making sure everyone else was happy and taken care of: I have loved at the expense of my own happiness – and the kids have thrown that in my face and told me they think I am a worthless piece of shit.
I don’t need that – I don’t deserve it.
My ‘Give a Damn’ is busted.
It is a liberating concept.
So …
After I got back home last Friday night, I started unpacking the boxes I had packed up; and I started putting things back in place.
Again.
At least the house was cleared of clutter and deep cleaned ;-)
This morning, FB fed my newsfeed a flashback to this day last year: November 5th, 2018. Every day since I was thrust into my new life after Bob’s leaving, reminders pop up.
Every day.
THIS IS REALITY. And I relive it. Every day.
Because there are reminders every day during these “1st’s Anniversaries” following physical death.
{{LAST YEAR, November 5, 2018 (Posted to our FB Page:Bob was admitted to ER earlier this afternoon and is currently in ICU. Again.
At first they were going to transport him immediately to OHSU, but when they called OHSU, docs here were told that there is nothing that could be done there that could not be done here … in OHSU’s estimation based on what was fed to them from ER here, Bob is not {chronically ill enough}. The man is in MASS PAIN! He CANNOT EAT OR DRINK without throwing it back up!
So.
Docs here said all they can do is basically keep him alive with pain killers and IV fluids when the pain is unbearable and the dehydration is critical. Pancreatitis is a wasting disease … he is dying. And he will die by starvation. End of story. A Hospital Chaplain was paged and Bob was moved to ICU where the nurses have been told again that there is a DNR Order standing. If he makes it through the night and is released, he will be on serious narcotics until he does “go home”.
I have loved this man since I was 10 years old. I married him when I was 17 years old. He has been in my life more than 2/3rd's of it. I am not even sure I remember how to breath or live without Bob being part of me.
This is extremely hard to go through. Bob is praying for a healing; or death. I am praying for a healing; or for a dignified death. We are both praying for Elohim’s expressed favor. We desperately need a miracle. Or a graceful exit.
Please pray as the Ruach Ha'Kodesh leads. Thank you.}}
Shay stopped in yesterday to talk for a bit (okay, a looooong bit), and ask what I have decided to do. I told her I will keep the house and stake my ground here. And, I am not going to change my mind this time.
The kids made the decision pretty easy for me. The house is paid for, and there is no longer any reason to take on a fresh debt.
And I do have friends here. Friends who really do WANT me in their lives. Friends who have MADE A PLACE for me in their lives. Aside from candy scott and ron cook, I really can carve a nice life for myself here. Bob gave me a good life, and he provided me a real nice home that suits me perfectly – there are LOTS of windows, and 2 skylights: I LIKE all the natural light that surrounds me. A new roof; new flooring; a totally remodeled kitchen with matching up-to-date appliances, a new washer/dryer set; I have recently had the house spackled/painted inside, and painted outside. I switched the old canned lights out and replaced them with energy efficient LED canned lights. Bob built me a gardening area on the lot outside, and Kerry will be bringing my rain barrels back after hunting season (I felt bad asking for them back, but he understood). I don’t have to have any face-to-face dealings with candy – and I haven’t since I recorded her bitchy meltdown the end of May (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2019/05/retirement-was-short-lived.html); and I can find entertainment venues outside the Park.
((((I)))) am responsible for my happiness.
ME.
Myself & I.
Those who should, have made it abundantly clear that they don’t give a damn if I am happy or not.
I am the only one reaching out – and shafted, or just outright ignored.
And with that final realization, something inside snapped; and MY ‘Give a Damn’ is busted.
Seriously.
I.A.M.D.O.N.E.
These past 14 months have been rough.
Bob physically died – and he is inaccessible to me.
My laptop died – and all my pictures of Bob are on it; they can be/will be retrieved, thank YOU, Yeshua! My sister, Iris, died 2 months ago: we found each other only a few short months ago – and then she was gone; our children & grandchildren have removed themselves from my life, making it abundantly clear that they want me out of their lives: and I can do that. I am 62 … soon to be 63 next month; I am tired of fighting to gain ground in a losing battle. Now, the phone and Bob’s laptop are not {communicating}, and there appears to be no help in that regard. I am seriously ready to stop the fucking world and step off.
AND THEN …
I run into old friends that make sticking around easier ;-)
This morning, bright and early, I took the laptop & phone to Charisma Computer Shop to see if they could fix it: 7 fricking hours it was worked on. While it was being worked on, I sat in the car working a ‘Word Search’ book for a couple hours. I went back into the shop to see what the issue was, and was told it would need more time and to come back around 4 p.m. So, I treated myself to lunch at Izzy’s … the first time I had been back there since Bob & I ate there 16 months ago. I have been avoiding going there. But this afternoon I went. I was hungry; and I had to pee ;-)
As soon as I walked in the door, the girl that used to wait on Bob & I asked, “Are you okay?” I said, “Actually, no. But I am getting there.” And then I told her that Bob had graduated to a higher level of living. She hugged me and said, “I could tell right away that something wasn’t right: you two were always together when you came in here. Your eyes told me something was not okay with you.” I must still have that ‘deer-in-the-headlights-look about me. She hugged me again, and said, “It never gets better.” Hugged me tighter. Then apologized for being a poor comforter. And I told her, “Don’t apologize – I prefer honesty over social graces. You’re right … it doesn’t get better; it gets tolerable. But it never gets better.” The place wasn’t that busy, so she sat with me for a bit at my table and we talked like we always had: we are friends. The kids think I just sit in the house all the time mouring. I don't mourn ... and I do have friends here; friends who really do want me in their lives. Friends who have made a place for me in their lives. I appreciate that, and am eternally grateful.
After lunch, I had lots more hours to waste, so I parked in Joanne’s parking lot to wait out the remaining time (didn"t want to waste gas running back home and then back into town again), and did more pages in the Word Search book. At 4:12 p.m., I walked into the shop and spent another hour watching the tech trying to figure out what the heck was wrong: my phone was torn apart and the screen damaged trying to figure it out – nothing. Nada. Consensus is that the issue is connected to the newest IOS update that just happened: a glitch in the software.
I go to AT/T and repeat what the tech told me … that my phone is under warranty and AT/T should replace it since it is their fault it is messed up – the guy at AT/T tells me that the phone has to be broken to be replaced; and it won’t be an in-store replacement: I have to go online and order a new phone & wait for it to be delivered. And it can only be replaced IF I have the ORIGINAL box it came in, as well as the phone’s serial number (don’t have either). But he was willing to sell me a NEW phone! Basically, what he was telling me was that Apple had screwed me without my permission and I just had to suck it up. I am still under contract ON THIS PHONE – the phone Apple fucked with; I am paying $128/mo. On a phone that I cannot utilize all the features. I am seriously pissed.
I wish Bob were still here. I REALLY MISS him at times like this. I desperately need a hug. I want to hear his voice telling me everything will be alright – I want to feel his touch, making everything alright. The missing of my husband is hard at the best of times; the relentless missing is unbearable on days like today.
Bob’s physical absence is pronounced every day; Friday was no exception: today was no exception. I did TRY with the kids – and I AM trying, today and each day moving forward, to live the life I have right in front of me. Without Bob’s hug. Without Bob’s soothing voice. Without Bob’s comforting touch. I know that there is a lot of life to be lived while I am “becoming”. I am trying to live life boldly and confidently. With a tear-stained face. And a kick-ass badassery attitude. I realize those terms are contradictory, but they will ultimately lead to joy in my life.
I choose joy in the new life that is being birthed while I am living in the “in between” twilight zone of my present life circumstances. The current twilight zone of widowhood may be where I live now, but it is not the place I will inhabit when my “becoming” matures. The twilight zone of my life is not the ending chapter of my life story. The new chapters of my new life since Bob’s spirit was freed from his earthen vessel show me to be an unsettled soul being tossed about in the wild frenzy that followed Bob’s physical death. And I agree that right this moment, the story of my life has been radically shaken, and lies strewn around me: there are pieces everywhere. And I have been needy – which is so NOT the old me … yet SO much the new me while picking up the pieces of my shattered life and attempting to make something whole and acceptable from what is left of the old.
This is a big job, and I am doing the best I can with the strength I can muster.
Alone.
Because those who said they would be there … are suspiciously absent; when they are not using and abusing me, and the situation.
“We’re here for you; you are still family.”
“We love you – we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what you need.”
“We will help: call us.”
Phone calls are not returned.
Texts are ignored.
That is on them …
I am becoming more comfortable with the uncertainty. I am learning to embrace it and roll with it. Uncertainty is scary – but it can usher in exciting possibilities as I “become”.
I am learning to enjoy the beauty of “becoming.”
I am remembering that before Bob came into my life, I was always alone. I grew up fast because I had to – and I was a strong and self-reliant woman because there was no one I could ever depend on to be there for me. I was always a solo lobo, and some of the most memorable chapters of my life were written during those solo lobo years. Those chapters led to the 44 years where Bob became a prominent part of the most beautiful chapters of my life, when “becoming” during that era, involved being lavished with Bob’s unconditional love.
Remembering the beauty of “becoming” during those chapters filled with so much passion and exclusive love makes me appreciative of the unpredictability of the nature of life.
And I remember, too, that heavy hearts can lighten and soar given the right environment …
