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If You're Going Through Hell


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When I was talking to Al's friend about taking Al's tools, he asked me if I was going to bars to look for someone.  I never went to bars AND I am not looking.  I told him that I had the best and did not want anyone else.  He said he was just kidding.  Before he hung up, he asked again.  I sure do not think it is funny.  Why would someone even ask that?  He knows how heart broken I have been.  Just do not understand some folks.  And this was Al's friend!

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Gin, I want to write something but I don't know this man.  And, I just now read Gwen's note and thank you Gwen, I am laughing.  

We know our guys on here and they hurt just like we do.  The mechanic that had come to talk to me at the Toyota place, I'm afraid I was having a conniption fit over whether to buy that car or run and I did not have time to talk to him.  Now I feel bad.  He might have needed to talk.  He had lost his wife recently after 49 years.

I think about my mama, and bless her heart, her tongue was a double edged sword.  I was with her in the grocery store and an older man was asking her for help finding something.  Mama just turned her back and walked off.  I told her "Mama, he might have just lost his wife and does not know how to buy groceries."  Mama's voice was not sweet and quiet, she said "Oh he is probably some old man looking for a woman to take care of him."  Yes, he heard her, and like always, I just hurried Mama out of the store.  

But you know this guy, I don't.  And, if he was being forward and hateful like he sounds, you ought to ask him if he would say that when Al was with you.  Or better yet, take one of the woodworking tools and hit him in his smart mouth.  He won't ask again. 

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Kay,

Yes, I felt a certain kinship with Finch and Numb and Lost. I was a little bit "luckier" is all. On the other hand, I know I loved her (still do), and know to the depths of my soul that she loved me. And as you said, no one can take that.

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Gin, while I am astounded that someone could say that to you on some level, I realize that some people have never truly loved. Their own losses are inconveniences, nothing more.  I worked with a woman who has just left my company, but less than a week after Dana died, she was all over me about some project I was helping her with. I explained I simply could not handle it at the time, I needed a few days.  She asked, "Oh, you're still grieving?"  I was flabbergasted. If she had been a man, I might have taken Marg's suggestion above, but I mostly sputtered and fumed.  And in hindsight, I must've cussed her pretty good in all my sputtering, as one of the things she said before leaving the company was "I sure don't want to be fussed at again by David."   So...

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I still have not cried for Mama.  I think I will sometimes.  I was fighting cancer myself when my dad passed away April 24, 1984.  Billy and Scott carried me through the funeral, one arm under each of my arms.  I was not crying.  I had been loaded down with Valium by my shrink.  I remember losing my shoe somewhere along the way.  It was after this funeral, I decided I did not want any.  Billy felt the same way.  

Anyhow, looking at him on his beloved motorcycle (this was only a year or so before he was given his diagnosis of prostate cancer.  I did cry.  I wish everyone could be married to their best friend like I was.  Life is just too short.  

Just to be sure, this is my dad.  Billy was never interested in motorcycles, only fly fishing and reading and when we  could, camping out, RVing.  If Billy could have been born in another time he would have wanted to be Jeremiah Johnson.  I'll bet we watched that movie over 10 times.  (I never told Billy how much I liked Robert Redford).  

dad1.jpg

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Oh yeah, Daddy never got in trouble with the law.  He was alderman of his small town one time and did not run the next time. Like me, he disliked politics. He was also the depot agent and hated having to tell people when they could work and couldn't, so he went back on the extra board.  I got to ride the train anywhere and they let me have the run of the train.  I loved riding in the caboose on the little porch.  I just took for granted what other kids would love to do.  Thinking about figuring out a way to go by Amtrak to NYC in the next year or so if I can.  Bri could see her Broadway shows (even if they are off Broadway), and it is certainly something Billy would not do, so I won't feel too sad.  

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10 hours ago, Gin said:

I sure do not think it is funny.  Why would someone even ask that?

Is he hitting on you and that's his opening line?  Very out of place!  I'm sorry, it's not funny, not in the least.  He must be a moron, no offense, Al.

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I come to here to write my word salads.  Sometimes it helps me to get the words written, thus said, even if not out loud.  Billy was always beside me.  If we had problems, they were our problems.  Now, all of us still have the same problems we had before we lost our mate and yet there is no one to share them with.

I'm a traveler (or used to be).  A trip of 200-300 miles was nothing for me.  As long as Billy was with me, or even if he was at work, at home, or fishing, I knew he had my back, if I needed him.  Today I have to go 101 miles.  We have a major weather system right on top of us.  If Billy was still here it would be just a step for a stepper.  He is not here though and I have some fear that I cannot show in front of my granddaughter.  I will let her use her GPS because the directions take me out of Louisiana (I hate I-49), onto I-30, (I hate interstate), and then back into Texas which Texarkana you know is both states.  I do a lot of quoting things.  Sometimes they are just words.  I still get the GriefShare blog each night late.  I just read it this morning.  Most mornings I don't even read it.  Sometimes I am "oh ye of little faith."  This is what it said this morning.  It spoke to me, but I am still sorta scared.  Billy is not around.  Just knowing he was around somewhere gave me strength.  I have to be the strength that my granddaughter needs.

(From GriefShare)

When your faith is only the size of a tiny, tiny mustard seed, you can move a large mountain because you believe in the power of God. You have chosen to trust in Him, and He will be there to give you strength.

“He replied, ‘Because you have so little faith. I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, "Move from here to there” and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you’“ (Matthew 17:20). Even a little faith, when it is in a big God, is sufficient.

If you do not have faith or religion, I am not preaching to you.  This was written so I can have faith in myself, and derive that faith from my source.  

 

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I forget sometimes about my son.  I do not have all the load on myself.  We have taken care of our son through the narcotics addiction, the hep-C treatments (almost lost him), and I forgot about his gunshot wound when he almost died.  I forget to rely on others sometimes.  He has been in Arkansas for a week, but just called.  I am not alone.  All I have to do is call him and he thinks he is taking care of me now.  I am really blessed, even through my anxiety.  I  still have so much to be thankful for.  I just have to remind myself.

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Goodbye April, another month gone, that's all.  I have been going through a strange phase and have quit reading my books on all the widows and widowers.  Trying to read autobiographies, and trying to deal with my daughter's illness and my  granddaughter's having to have her wisdom teeth removed.  Not time for much else.

The strange phase is a sort of anger at Billy.  I know he could not help leaving and would not  have left if he could have helped it, so my anger is terribly misplaced.  But the anger, sometimes, takes up a space where forgetting things is easier.............and the guilt from forgetting is harder.  One day at a time.

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This was to follow one of Kay's notes, but decided I might better relocate it.  I like my site because we are all going through hell at some time or the other.

I spent from 8:02 this morning until about 11:30 calling numbers to get Brianna in the AR system of Medicare/Medicaid that Kelli has her on.  I cannot put her on mine yet, Kelli gets SS for Bri.  I finally had to tell them "if I have already told you this story, if I have already talked to you, please let me know so I won't repeat myself and bore you to death."  I have gone from her primary care physician being about 180 miles away to 61 miles away.  It was a very stressful morning, talking to ARKids First directly and to other doctors that won't accept it.  I have her a primary care physician.  This is so much stranger than mine.  I can go to any doctor I want to go to.  This was so stressful because she has to go to another dentist in AR, to refer her to oral surgeon.  If the moves had not been made, they would already be cut out but she has headaches from them and getting help is almost impossible.  I am used to getting  a doctor when I want one and unless it is just too long a wait or I don't like the sound of the doctor's name or something equally as stupid, well, I will just say this has been one hell of a stressful day.  

I went to McDonald's to get breakfast late and for some reason, no known reason, just stress I guess, I cried all the way home, humming sobs, stupid crying over something I cannot do anything about.  Just constant all the way home.  Then I cut it off and now will live another day.

I honestly don't think any of us are happy anymore and never will be in the same way.

I think Charlie Brown and Snoopy got it correct.

Charlie Brown:  Some day we will all die Snoopy.

Snoopy: True, but on all the other days we will not. 

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Life sure isn't any easier as I get older.  I thought I would be gaining knowledge but it seems that my widow's journey is robbing me of my memory and my ability to learn.

Life kinda sucks - yes I feel like I'm living in a vacuum.  Life is a vacuum cleaner; a whirlwind filled with all kinds of debris flying around sucking the joy out of me and choking off my air.

Please, tell me that you believe that this is just another of those temporary visits in hell.

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More bitching. Why does everything seem sooooo hard. I have been trying since January to "fix" me as beneficiary to my husbands IRA at Citibank. I am listed as beneficiary. All okay right? Nope, not with Citibank and I dont live in a state with Citibank. Nothing I do is "right" with them and I have filled out reams of stuff with other banks, insurances, etc. they are giving me such a runaround. "Pox on them". Yeah,  and today is a bad day for me, too! Last correspondence from them drivers license not clear enough. Clear enough for my 70 year old eyes...without glasses. So off to Staples to have it copied "professionally". Then I call and the young idiot says why dont I drop in and bring it...she has my address in front of her. I dont live in a state with a citibank. So then i request another phone numbers for more problems with them...she gives me the same number I get to get her...which I explained...oh, she is just customer service (or lack there of) and yet that is the number on the letter for estate retirement services...so what she can do is send an email to the person I got the letter from...response time 24 hours...you think? Will let you all know. No, I am not real hopeful.

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Reading about giving stuff away and reducing got me going few months ago......Just the papers and garbage to the dump was easy....now the stuff you haven't used in 10 years but is still good to someone is difficult...........Solution  is the Church Garage sale....Amazing the dent it is making....Two bicycles to be included...And some good comes of it....Still having difficulty giving Angela's special things away......seems strange doing that,,,,

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Kevin, I could not have used all Billy's fishing stuff, but there is one thing I wish, he would have loved for his nephew to have it all and I let a stranger come in and take most of it.  I saved special things though and I will give them to his nephew.  They grew up together, about three years age difference.  There are still special things that I won't give away.  I cannot take them with me when I am gone, but I'm not gone yet, and I hope when that time comes we will all find peace.  It is hard moving on any at all, but you really get tired of standing in one place too long.  Makes my back hurt.  

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Marg, there are things of Steve's I will never part with.  Some because I like/love and others that would just create more absence of his presence.  I've had to do enough of that because things broke and had to be replaced.  I figure whoever has to dispose of my stuff can deal with it at that time.  I still haven't been able to not have his placemat gone at the table so how on earth would I handle his desk being cleared of a computer that can't be used or his van?  It's bad enough he is gone and I did donate his clothes, but that is enough.  All but one of his guitars went according to his will to people.  His studio looks so empty with just folded up stands for them.  I even remember what he named them all.   

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