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Hey, I can start a new topic, they are usually not of much substance and they don't last long, but I listened to the radio this morning on the way to local "Dollar Gentral." (If you have not seen the Dollar Gentral girls on You Tube, you need to watch them.) Good ole Louisiana gals, I believe.  Anyhow, this song hit me right in the middle.  I can personally tell you all why they say wait a year before you make any big moves.  I am not/was not sure I might have a year though.  Anyhow, a country station (yes, I did) and I've heard this song before but did not listen.  It is by Rodney Atkins.  

If you're goin' through hell keep on going
Don't slow down if you're scared don't show it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there
When you're goin' through hell keep on movin'
Face that fire walk right through it
You might get out before the devil even knows you're there

More words to it, but you would have to listen and some folks won't listen.  

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I have always loved that song. I love music. Mostly listen to country music now. It's all Richard listened to and he got me hooked.

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I've heard it before, but I have never "listened" to it.  I grew up on country music, my dad played and we had a band playing every Monday night for years.  People would open their doors and windows, come with yard chairs and sit on the big front porch or in the yard.  No AC back then anyhow. Not in our little town.

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I guess I purposefully did not remember Billy's "hunting" room in the garage.  I saw his camouflaged boots, the rubber had turned hard and broke so they were unwearable.  I grabbed them up to my chest and ran with them and cried.  They are not in good enough shape to give away.  I hugged them to me and cried and cried, then the reality hit me in the solar plexus.  We had one big, huge box, one of those plastic buckets with locking lid, it had sat in the corner for ten years.  I knew what was inside.  It had all his hunting clothes, long handle underwear, stuff not even out of the wrappings.  Billy was cremated, so were his boots and all his hunting clothes.  They were probably unwearable.  They had been worn many years before he started hunting/shooting with a camera instead of a gun.  

I cannot go into his room where he kept his knickknacks.  It is a whole little room.  I just cannot do it.  My daughter offered to clean it out.  I cannot do it anymore.  I thought I had everything of his in those big plastic boxes.  I know this is silly, but I am going to mix his clothes up in the double closet with mine, one of his, one of mine.  Helps me right now.

My mom is having a hard time breathing.  My sister said to get prepared.  She is in hospice.  This was a little woman that probably had mixed marbles in her head, but who was damn smart in accounting, paid her bills as soon as one came in the mail.  Daddy had "let" her do a lot around the house so she could fix her lawnmower and start it and anything that required tools, she could fix.  She put a garden in the deep freeze and before that she canned things.  She could bend a dime double.  She knew how to save money until her mind started going and when that happened, everything was gone.  This time of year she would be sitting in the dirt in her garden.  She had a garden like no other.  Nothing ever failed.  She did not buy many groceries, just staples.  Her 95th birthday is June 2nd.  How can a woman that was never lazy, never still, how can she suffer the indignity of being this person she has become, dependent upon someone constantly and now has taken to getting up at night and walking and eating the cat food.  She cannot walk, but she does.  And she falls.  They won't let her have soft restraints, only if a nurse is with her 24 hours a day.  Now she fell on her chin and it is bloody, hit her head night before last, bloody.  She will go to sleep and get up in the middle of the night.  If she cannot walk, she crawls.  They are upping her sedatives, she was on the lowest dosage.  I miss Billy so damn much, I miss him being with me with losing my Mama, but Billy's cancer took him so fast that he had discomfort, but I never let him hurt.  He just gave up and left me.  

And I do not feel any levity tonight.  I honor a lot about my mama, but she really had some psychiatric problem.  But, it did not keep her from being a busy, industrious, intelligent person.  Not very lovable, no friends, although she called her cigarettes her friends.  She had six brothers and sisters and has outlived them by years.  They were her "friends" but they all fought terribly, very dysfunctional.  I loved our family reunions, better than Ali and George Foreman.  

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Marg, I'm so sorry you are having to go through all this right now and are suffering so.  I wish I could be there to help you, but the best I can do is send you my thoughts and hugs.

Joyce

 

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We all help each other the best we can and I know this forum has saved my life.  At first that did not encourage me too much, but now I am just looking forward to leaving here.  I have not checked on moving companies yet.  I am not taking too much, but I am taking our king sized bed and Billy's cabinet he picked out, books, bookcases, TV's, etc.  I am not asking Scott what all he is getting rid of.  I did bring some of my granddaughters things in the house and will put them in a separate box.  We did find probably 100 DVD's inside a plastic box in good shape.  Mostly Brianna's.  Thank you for the thoughts and hugs.  I'm better now.  It just sounds right to burn some things Billy will never use and no one else could use.  

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Marg-I am so sorry to hear all that-it really sounds like you are going through hell...all that with your mom while you are still deep in grief over Billy. I sure wish there was something more I could do. Hang in there, take it easy on yourself and keep us posted, ok? -Laura

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Marg, I'm sorry to hear about all that happened lately with your mum. I send you a hug. Let's keep walking in hell...

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Margaret,

I can so identify with everything you say about your mom (except my mom quit smoking).  My mom was industrious, hardworking, although she didn't work outside the home, she raised six kids, always had a good meal on the table at 5:00 sharp!  She was a great landscaper, seamstress, you name it.  As she got old and dementia set in, she became like a different person.  She didn't know the bank from the insurance company.  Paranoia caused her to hallucinate that the MCI man (bill collector) was going by showing off his fancy car.  As if!  My mom handled the bills the whole time her and my dad were married, and I'd thought her competent, but as she aged, things changed, mostly because of her mental state.  You're right, it is so unfair.

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Sometimes I think it's hard to tell which is worse once a person is at an advanced age, having their minds or bodies go first. My mother died of a train wreck of pneumonia related complications, but she already had more than the very start of an aggressive form of dementia. Had she stayed physically healthy for another five or more years, she would have ended up in some memory unit-it would have been lots worse than what happened. My dad and I thought he did have another five years ahead of him and I am grieved that he didn't get them. People offered me platitudes like "Well, he lived a long life"; in my mind and sometimes out of my mouth my reaction was, "But it wasn't enough! We got ripped off!" Nevertheless, when I am thinking realistically about what was likely to have happened if he had another five years, it doesn't seem good. That end would have been a lot worse than the one he did have. He had "moderate dementia" and some other issues related to the Parkinson's. I kept thinking he could get stronger-maybe that was totally wishful thinking. He really really wanted to live at home until the end-he absolutely did not want to live in assisted living. He got what he wanted, which was to live at home until the end and then die in his sleep in bed.

It may be that he had more to do with going out the way he wanted-just like he lived the way he wanted-than any influence I had over it. I believe he gave up when he realized that his days of living at home were numbered, and he didn't last long after that. Also, I think he died shortly after my visiting like he was waiting for me to leave and then just checked out. It's just so awful for us-the survivors. We fervently wish that we had had more time and that it could have been better. It is all hell...and I am so sorry that you are so much in the midst of it.

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I wonder sometimes if my kids mention to each other that Mama's mind is "going."  As long as Billy was with me I did not worry about dementia in him or me.  Now, I think back at some things he did and remember him asking me if I was worried about his "facilities."  I told him his facilities worked just fine, and I was sure his faculties were okay too.  We did not know about the aneurysm he had had for so long (they said).  Now, I wonder about his road rage he had developed and I had to fuss at him for answering his phone and texts when he was driving.  He had very vivid dreams of fighting snakes.  I sat up in bed one time and will never forget watching him turn a perfect somersault toward the end of the bed and thinking "well, that would certainly get a 10 in the Olympics."  Both of us still asleep.  He came out of it fast hitting the desk at the end of the bed.  I tried telling him that dreaming about snakes did not bode well with the definition they gave to those dreams.  I wonder if maybe that was when the aneurysm was forming.  One time he fought the wall, thinking he was keeping a snake off the bed.  Always snakes.  And now, my forgetfulness.  I do think that the brain protects itself from overload sometimes.  At least that is what the psychiatrist told me about the dissociation I had years ago.  I think my numb-down feelings are dissociation now.  My brain definitely needs protection.   

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Perhaps Marge it's more symptomatic of grief than anything else. To think your brain needs protection is likened to your accepting that fact. Your children would think that before anything else so perhaps a year from now you might want to worry if things don't seem right. Physical things such as aneurysms can affect behavior as you describe Billy.  My dad started acting strangely just before he hit his head and died soon after. It turned out he had adult hydrocephalus which kept him from recovering. We all understood why his behavior was as it was. My memory checked out of service in my first year of grieving but I think it's back now ..........or what was it I was saying? 

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After they are gone we question what we could have done different, question things that we did not question at the time, question everything.  In reality the questions do not matter, any of them.  When they are gone they are gone.  I knew him for over 54 years, but sometimes I just wish I had known him better, maybe things would have been different.  But, in the end, we all gotta go.  And I guess I am just Mary Sunshine.  

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Marg Mary Sunshine.....you know that is not a prerequisite here.  Youre right, it gets to the point when the questions just don't seem to matter anymore.  But yet they will nag us when we are off guard.  Here's some sunshine for ya......☀️

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I am lucky my son is helping me.  He is taking all his dad's dog training books up to the thrift store.  I told him to shake them out to see if he left notes in them.  I don't think I will be training any dogs anytime soon. We live in hunting country, so maybe someone can get some use out of them.  I won't burn them.  Thanks Gwen, I needed that sunshine.  Here is a hug back.  (((((((Hugs)))))) 

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5 hours ago, Marg M said:

... but sometimes I just wish I had known him better, maybe things would have been different.

Dear Marg Mary Sunshine,

We all have the woulda coulda shoulda syndrome. And the what-if's and but-only's. And the maybe's. And the self-doubts. And the guilt. So many questions play in our minds over and over. All because we miss them so and we want answers! Why isn't our loved one here? Was I somehow to blame? I think we all know we'd never do anything intentionally to cause them harm. We just want and need them back. Nothing in this journey is easy is it?

On a side note, Katie used to refer to me as "sweet daddy sunshine" when she was little. I loved that.

 

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2 minutes ago, mittam99 said:

Katie used to refer to me as "sweet daddy sunshine" when she was little. I loved that.

 

I love that Mitch.  When I am back "home" in Louisiana I think things like when I am driving, "maybe if we had been homesteaders instead of gypsies, maybe if we had settled down instead of being so restless to travel."  At one time it entered my mind when we were on the road, if we travel far enough and fast enough we won't hear those footsteps creeping up on us, maybe the inevitable won't happen.  Of course it would have.   

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Mitch, I see so much of Billy in our son, his ways, his build, his procrastinating.  Yesterday he worked himself terribly hard.  Losing his dad, his hero, that was very hard on him.  He has Billy's gentle ways and has his quick temper also.  His relationship for 10 years is with a much younger woman that is just like my mother.  My mom and dad did not have the closeness except at the last four years when my mom had to take care of my dad.  The whole time she did though, it was a duty of the marriage vows, it was not love that you could see from her part, but for their whole marriage, from 1940 until before he became ill, they were separate souls, not united in anything.  It was how they both wanted it.  Billy's folks were never close, never said "I love you" to each other or the children.  It was as if Billy and I were determined not to be like either of them.  "I love you" and hugs were lavished all around between the two of us and our kids.  Maybe too much so, if that is possible, as neither child/middle aged adult can stand for their parents to be far from them.  They have separate lives, but wanted us to be right there too.  When we wanted to RV all the time our daughter said "families don't leave families."  But, the last 15-16 years raising our granddaughter, neither would have given that up for "the road."  I still look at RVers, at every RV traveling down the road and have some envy and also happiness for the people traveling.  Now Billy traveled on without me, and we had years and years I am thankful for, but I still wanted more, and I know he did too.  We could not talk about him leaving, though I know he knew he was, but I did not know it, I was going to have a miracle, until I saw his death mask that morning, and I have to forget that part.  

If I could just go off and leave all this behind in a bubble, then I think I would be okay.  But, we have/had responsibilities and we have to take care of them.  All our life seems like one responsibility after another.  I just want to run and hide from all the responsibilities.  I'm tired of them.  This moving stirs up more pain than I want, more than I think I can handle sometimes.

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29 minutes ago, Marg M said:

If I could just go off and leave all this behind in a bubble, then I think I would be okay.  But, we have/had responsibilities and we have to take care of them.  All our life seems like one responsibility after another.  I just want to run and hide from all the responsibilities.  I'm tired of them.  This moving stirs up more pain than I want, more than I think I can handle sometimes.

Like you said Marg, our life before we lost our soul mate was filled with responsibilites, too. It's one of the "not-fun" parts of life. What's so different now is we don't have that special person by our side to help us, to hear about our problems (regarding those responsibilities) and to make us feel better. Combine that with the fact we sometimes aren't even sure we want to be here and every annoyance is magnified. Comfort in this new life is a hard commodity to come by.

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1 hour ago, mittam99 said:

our life before we lost our soul mate was filled with responsibilites

When we planned marriage as teenagers (me), Billy said he was afraid of responsibilities.  I had no idea what a responsibility was.  I had had none.  In the end, not because he wanted to, but in the end, he is gone from the responsibilities, I am not.  And, of course, nothing we can do but just "do it."

And, I know I sound selfish, I have admitted to that failing.

 

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Trying to figure where to put this.  Just watched the news and it seems Canada is burning.  Don't know anyone in Canada except some Escapee RVers, but think they are probably running in their RV if they are in the area.  But, Kevin lives in Canada.  I know, Canada is a big place.  Kevin..........are you safe???

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WaltC is in Canada too.  I thought Kevin was in Northern WA near the border.  I don't think all of Canada was affected...guess I'll have to go catch up on the news.

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