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If You're Going Through Hell


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Terri, Yep, it was always teenagers!  But murder to try and cover up!

I'm sorry your family is about themselves, I am so fortunate.  My mom was mentally ill and my dad was alcoholic, so us kids banded together (six of us) and we've all been really close to each other and very supportive of one another throughout our lives.  I don't know what I'd do without my siblings!

Marg, I don't want you to go to trouble, I forgot about the tremors.  I don't take many pictures just because I'm not good at it!  The charcoal stucco wall I'd painted white was also a "one coat covers", it took three though.  This was back when paint was under $5/gal. and this paint cost $35!

George, I listened to your song last night, thank you for sharing that, the message was good.

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Well, I experimented with it and one coat will cover, if I coat it thick.  I will probably have it dripping if I put it too thick.  Remember, Billy and I, well neither one of us could decorate anything beyond a tent.  Billy used to tell me to look in house fashion magazines.

Let me tell you this.  My daughter made the most beautiful wreath for her front door.  I bought the same things she did, only different colors.  I put it out on my front door and it looks like I am celebrating Mardi Gras.  Yep, I went with purple.  I really could screw up a paint by number picture.  

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Terri, I am into quotes also.  This morning's quote in my email was below.

“Self-pity gets you nowhere.
One must have the adventurous daring
to accept oneself as a bundle of possibilities
and undertake the most interesting game in the world:
making the most of one’s best.”
~ Harry Emerson Fosdick 

I got to thinking about having adventurous daring.  I love watching people dive off those cliffs.  I love watching paragliding.  For right now, I think I will just wallow in self-pity since I cannot swim and would die for sure if I went paragliding.  I'm safer painting my front door cherry red.  Will let you all know how that goes.  My ideas of decorating is putting that wreath I just made on the front door.  No kidding, the red and purple shout out Mardi Gras celebrated here.  Hideous.  That cherry red door might make people drive by this house and say "hell no, I would not live there."  

As for the picture below.  I think we worry about other people too much.  Myself, I am going to keep right on self pitying myself.  I've earned it.  

I read a joke that the grape does not get really sweet until it is a wrinkled raisin.  Not sure I agree with that either.  

pity.jpg

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6 hours ago, Froggie4635 said:

I finally took some time this morning to catch up on my days in my book, Hope and Healing for Transcending Loss by Ashley Davis Bush.  It is really good for keeping the positive thinking going, but also to make sure you know what you are experiencing is NORMAL.  The passage that caught my eye today says:

"You do not need to know how things will unfold over time. You do not need to know what will be happening next year or how you will get there. You just need to get up today and do the next right thing.  Focus on this day, being with the simplicity of each moment, and you will gradually live your way into the future.  Today, allow yourself to feel your feet on the floor as you sit and as you walk. Be aware of how the ground supports you with each step."

I highly recommend this book.  The daily passages are short and can sometimes be just what we need to read to push us past a difficult time.

Maryann, thank you for sharing that information and passage with us. I just ordered the book, too. It sounds like something I can do every day to start my morning or whenever I need motivation or comfort. Short daily passages are realistic and "do-able", even for those whose attention spans have been overwhelmed by their grief. 

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Marg,

Years ago I sold Avon.  I was showing a lady a pair of earrings they'd come out with and I mentioned they were gaudy...turns out she liked them, so I'd just insulted my customer.  I learned a lesson in that, not to give an opinion unless it's favorable.  One thing I've learned is one man's junk is another man's treasure.  So don't be so certain that door is screaming at others, they might just like it! :)

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Marg, you flaunt that Mardi Gras-looking wreath of yours and be proud! As long as you don't get car loads of women driving by, lifting their tops for beads, then there's no problem! :D

Kay, your Avon story made me literally laugh out loud! It sounds so much like something I would do! "Open mouth, insert foot." Haha!

I do like the thought of "adventurous daring", but there's probably an extremely thin line between that and "total insanity". Have you ladies heard of the Advanced Style movement? Women over 60 who epitomize their own versions of style, whether it's classic or completely out there. We should get some tutus and striped tights and start our own. No one would even be looking at what color our walls are! 

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Yeah, I tease my kids about my wanting to be one of those "go-go dancers" in the cages, wearing the tassels and white high boots at what used to be called "The Whisk-A-Go-Go".  My deacon dad would have stroked out.  Irony was, I really wanted to do that.  I had the figure to do it, but I'll bet if I did it now I would make more money.

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Marg, I always wanted to do that, too. As a kid, I'd put on my go-go boots and dance around my living room to "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'" by Nancy Sinatra. Hullaballoo, Shindig and of course, American Bandstand, were my favorite shows---aside from Dark Shadows. I really wanted to grow up to become a go-go dancer in a cage wearing a short mini-dress, fishnet tights and boots. Who knew my occupation would be phased out by the time I reached the age to do it? :) I'd be more than happy to join you now, although some might pay me more money if I only threatened to do it. "We'll pay double if you DON'T!" Haha! 

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Terri, I found a picture of Ms. Piggy in a tutu, but I don't think no one is in the mood to see this.  Actually, I am happy to find a fellow (I don't know what to call us), but I hate we had to meet in this way.  Wish we could have traded glitter and danced in our go-go boots years ago instead of meeting on a grief forum.  Actually, I am listening to the music from the 50s and 60s right now.  Strange, it does not make me cry.  I have learned to stay away from those romantic songs though..  I think I would cry at that fellow singing "Don't worry, be happy" right now.  Fixing to go smear some more red paint.  Had to tape off the door knocker, etc.  I probably should just unscrew it.  Hey, I know how to use a screw driver, I'm an expert.  Hope you have a better day Terri.  

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My granddaughter introduced me to the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt.  She also introduced me to Grace and Frankie.  I cannot remember which is which but I would definitely fit the one who still lives like a hippy.  Not the glamorous one.  If it makes me laugh, I am going to watch it.  I like that guy, James Corbin, or Cordin, at late night show with his drive along karaoke.  In fact, my granddaughter, when she is around me, tries to get me doing things that are funny.  She found a picture of me "wiped out" back in my late 30s and she wanted the picture.  I still had a glass of Margarita in my hand.  She didn't know, but about 20 minutes later my head was hung over a commode.  The party had been thrown for me, I didn't stay too long.  They had to call Billy to take me home.  Three drinks and I was unconscious.  I would be dead now.  I am going to watch anything that will lighten the mood. 

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By now you all know I was probably certifiable before Billy left me.  I know, most times I am crazy like a fox, but sometimes reality is ugly.  As I was sanding the door to paint (some idiot closed the door when they painted it last time and we all know what a perfectionist housekeeper I am), anyhow, it came to me that I just have not faced Billy is gone.  He would have made fun of my red, purple and white door wreath, but he would have found something to like...........nah, he wouldn't.  But, he would know that did not bother me.  And, he would not be in there saying "here, let me sand this for you."  I cannot feel him here with me, but he is still here somewhere.  I just don't feel like he is gone, except when I cry, he did not like me to cry.  He would not fuss, but it brought out the man/male/he-man in him and he had to comfort me.  I feel him comforting me, just not his touch.  He is still here, I just cannot see him.  Does that make sense?  Well................it does not have to make sense to anyone but me, and my brain must be melting some of that wax.  I won't tell you what my next big project is, but I am absolutely excited about it.  And, it is something Billy has always wanted me to do.  I can do it.  He has not gone, I just cannot see him.

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Marg, I can see we'd be great neighbors. :) Two crazy widow ladies running through the yard on Halloween with costumes on. HAHA! I also love Grace and Frankie---I think Frankie is the hippie chick. I have always loved Lily Tomlin and used to do a spot-on imitation of her character, Ernestine, back in the Laugh-In days. What surprised me (and for those on here who are still very new to grief, they may think I'm being disrespectful, but truly, I am not) was the first time I laughed at something not long after Paul died. I thought that there definitely had to be something wrong with me, that I could laugh when my world had suddenly collapsed. Then I gave it some thought and realized that I've always used humor as a stress buffer. I've had friends who lost someone or who want through a horrible divorce and I would say something that would cause them to laugh. Instead of getting angry, they would be grateful. My deepest belief is that still being able to laugh IS that light that shines through the cracks of a shattered life or is that light at the end of a long tunnel (that isn't a train). It's a sign that you're still in there, no matter if it feels as if all of you has left this world with your loved one. You have to find something, anything., that makes you laugh or at least smile once in a while. On Thanksgiving, I ended up binge-watching that show Younger, on TV Land. I loved it and I laughed and now I'm hooked on the show. Haha!  I love Kimmy Schmidt, too. I love the Carol Kane character, Lillian. She is such a riot. But, aside from the comedy, that show is about survival and doing what you have to do to stand up on your own two feet. It's harder than simply giving in and it's a struggle, but in the end, it's worth it. That's a great message for what we're all experiencing. 

I understand what you mean about Billy's presence. I also feel Paul around me. Not all the time, but many times I just sense him being there. I believe I've gotten help, signs or messages from him when I've needed them. Some people may find that to be "woo woo" stuff, but they've happened in ways and at times that were far too connected to something I'd just said or asked for them to be mere coincidences. At least in my mind. I spent most of January (the 25th was the 34th anniversary of our first date) listening to all the music that was popular back at that time. It brought so many memories flooding back, along with tears, but I had to do it. By the time the actual day arrived, I was very uplifted and knew he was around. But, you're right! I won't listen to songs that are sad, but that isn't always a guarantee, is it! One day, I heard "Always Something There To Remind Me" (the Naked Eyes version) and the lyrics made me start crying because they're exactly what I've been feeling. The song sounds upbeat, but the lyrics kicked my behind. 

I do hope that all is going well with your painting. I think it's great that you are tackling things like that. My hat is off to you, Queen of the Screwdriver! You're making me feel guilty that I should be handling the wild bougainvillea plant outside my bedroom window! There are stems growing up and out, looking like tentacles lying in wait to snag their prey! Yes, Paul is now looking at me and no doubt, shaking his head. :::sigh:::

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Well girls, back in the "olden days" as we say now, I also wore "hot pants" and go-go boots. Never wanted to wear those tassels though, Marg. I think we all did our crazy things back then when we really had no worries. I laugh when I remember a neighbor visiting after I married Ron. He asked what had happened to the hot chick that used to mow the lawn in an orange bikini. I told him that I had been that hot chick.  lol

Blast it! I had one of those "gotcha" moments yesterday when I backed out of the driveway. I'm sure I've backed out of that driveway at least a hundred times since Ron left, but for some reason this time I "saw" the ambulance that sat right there bringing him home to die. That thought stayed with me all the way to the store. Where the heck did it come from?

Marg, when your done painting, come on out to Arizona and we'll spruce up this old place.  lol   I'm afraid it needs a lot more than paint.

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1 hour ago, TerriL said:

My deepest belief is that still being able to laugh IS that light that shines through the cracks of a shattered life or is that light at the end of a long tunnel (that isn't a train). It's a sign that you're still in there, no matter if it feels as if all of you has left this world with your loved one

 

43 minutes ago, KarenK said:

. That thought stayed with me all the way to the store. Where the heck did it come from?

 I have to laugh to live Terri.  I cry too, lots.  I went into the True Value Hardware store and told him I wanted an electrical sander.  Billy has a big one I cannot figure out and it is heavy.  He said "what kind do you want?"  I held out my short fingered hands to him and said "something that fits those."  He found me one.  Still bigger than I wanted, but I can handle it.  It is kinda like when you go fishing all day and all a man has to do is turn his back to you and tee-tee out the boat.  Well, I learned to sit in the back next to the motor that drains the water out.  I thought about a cup and a tube hanging out our pants.  Would have been lots easier.  Now, I have to invent a sander to fit smaller hands.  

Karen, those "gotcha" moments hit.  I cannot go back and see the girls I retired with at the Arkansas Hospital Billy passed away in.  Not to even tell them goodbye.  I cannot go there again.  And there are a hundred "gotcha's" during the day, so I just cuss at him.  

I wished we all could live close so we could party, commiserate, or just hug.  Now I am fixing to try my new Black and Decker first big tool bought after being a widow.  I don't feel sad about it.  I think Billy is laughing and proud, 

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Well, I won't tell you what Scott said my red door looked like.  Suffice it to say, cherry red is bright.  When I sanded off the bad places the other who painted it over 10 years ago, they had left edges of green on a cream colored door.  After sanding those edges down, the green showed through.  Now, I will go get a red brick color to paint a second coat on it or maybe I will just set red lights in my windows.  I have very much admiration for interior decorators.  I am not one.  I know Billy is still laughing.  He and my daddy both.  Daddy had that infectious laugh that by the time you finished laughing, you did not know what you were laughing about but you sure had a lot of tears from laughing till you cried.  I'll bet God is even laughing.  Glad I could amuse them.  

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Marg,

I hate to be the one to tell you, but I think we may be past the "red light" age.  lol

Wouldn't it be great if life was like a recorded tape and we could go back and erase the bad parts.

Just an observation. If you want to laugh, read the headlines. Saw this one a few minutes ago:

Tempe PD Bust Human Sex Ring At Massage Parlor

Duh! Is there another kind besides HUMAN?

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Thank you Karen, it took me about 5 seconds, but I caught that one.  Girl, I wished you lived somewhere but out west.  I still cannot travel out west.  That was always mine and Billy's destination.  I once went on business to Albuquerque with my daughter as my traveling  companion.  Billy stayed home and homeschooled Brianna.  Kelli was having a great time and I was so miserable because Albuquerque was our place.  The next year we all went and it was great again.  I cannot go past that Texas or Oklahoma state line ever again.  Maybe I will change my mind, but by that time there will be no "mind" left.  

I'm glad they busted the "human" sex ring, and at such an innocent place to have one too.  

Past the "red light" age???  Damn, where am I gonna get my quarters for the washing machines?

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4 hours ago, Marg M said:

 

 I have to laugh to live Terri.  I cry too, lots.  I went into the True Value Hardware store and told him I wanted an electrical sander.  Billy has a big one I cannot figure out and it is heavy.  He said "what kind do you want?"  I held out my short fingered hands to him and said "something that fits those."  He found me one.  Still bigger than I wanted, but I can handle it.  It is kinda like when you go fishing all day and all a man has to do is turn his back to you and tee-tee out the boat.  Well, I learned to sit in the back next to the motor that drains the water out.  I thought about a cup and a tube hanging out our pants.  Would have been lots easier.  Now, I have to invent a sander to fit smaller hands.  

Karen, those "gotcha" moments hit.  I cannot go back and see the girls I retired with at the Arkansas Hospital Billy passed away in.  Not to even tell them goodbye.  I cannot go there again.  And there are a hundred "gotcha's" during the day, so I just cuss at him.  

I wished we all could live close so we could party, commiserate, or just hug.  Now I am fixing to try my new Black and Decker first big tool bought after being a widow.  I don't feel sad about it.  I think Billy is laughing and proud, 

I recently suspended my lawn service because we were getting no rain and my short grass was burning up. I also did not care for the divots left behind by the commercial mower they used. I'm thinking of getting an affordable electric or reel mower and cutting it myself. Like you with Billy's sander, my joints can't handle the rope yanking or lifting gas cans that go with using Paul's old gas mower. Someone told me that reel mowers are difficult for women to push, but I have no clue. I do like the idea though of no power source or cords and no fumes. I'm feeling like Rosie the Riveter! We can DO it! Seriously, you're inspiring me! 

Karen, I have those kinds of moments all the time and they can just hit you without warning. I've said it before, but it genuinely feels like someone has punched you in the stomach when it happens. I guess that must be why they use the phrase "it hits you". I have to suddenly catch my breath and then, the tears come. 

I'm kind of disappointed to think our red light days are over. Like Marg and her washing machines, I figured I'd make enough for at least a few Papa John's pizzas. Haha! But, I respect myself far too much to join a human sex ring. You just have to draw the line somewhere, you know? 

Hey everyone! Party at Marg's house! Just look for the cherry red door! Have a peaceful evening ladies and try to have sweet dreams. ?

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1 hour ago, Marg M said:

Past the "red light" age???  Damn, where am I gonna get my quarters for the washing machines?

Well, girls, we could always group together and holdout a hat for passer by's.  Just need a good slogan.  Grieving is easier with clean clothes?

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Sometimes I have to fight this terror, this pain with levity.  I feel so empowered.  I took my purple truck to be fixed and it was $45 less than he quoted me, which was a bunch of money he quoted me, but hopefully it is fixed.  I put a coat of Santa Fe Red on the door to cover the cherry red that advertised a flop house (Scott said).  He also said it needed another coat of paint.  Fixing to go slosh another coat on and then I am going to tackle sanding off the inside doors in the house and repaint them.  Does that make sense?  I had a teenager who liked to stick stuff on her doors I cannot peel off.  

I have two things running through my head, one is below, and I am going to leave it just like he said it, I am not going to change the wording to be politically correct.  After all, in the old days "gay" meant you were happy.  Did you know I attributed this old saying to Shakespeare.  I get Shakespeare mixed up with the Bible often also.

“All the world is queer save thee and me, and even thou art a little queer.” ― Robert Owen

To you youngsters, you won't remember this.  But, you can You Tube it.  I keep hearing this song playing in the back of my head (maybe the front), "They are coming to take me away Oh No, they are coming to take me away ho-ho.

Life is not funny..  Life is overpowering.  I am not going to let them come and take me away....no-no.

friend.jpg

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1 hour ago, Marg M said:

 I put a coat of Santa Fe Red on the door to cover the cherry red that advertised a flop house (Scott said).  He also said it needed another coat of paint.  Fixing to go slosh another coat on and then I am going to tackle sanding off the inside doors in the house and repaint them. 

Hey Marg, with your around the house "handyman" skills have you ever considered a part-time job at Home Depot? :P

Also, I don't necessarily think a cherry red door screams "Madam Marg's Cathouse".

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Thanks Mitch.  I did take my red lights out of the windows.  We live on a dead end street.  No business.

I have the Eagles, Johnny Rodriguez, Gary Stewart (RIP), CCR, The Band all playing loud.  Scott came in and said "Mama's jiving."  Just in case anyone figured I was painting the inside doors red, I am THROUGH WITH RED.  These will all be cream colored inside doors, just touch ups.  I have already given the old girl her coat of red paint. No sentimental music playing.  Just loud and unthinking.

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Marg,

I love that song "They are coming to take me away...to the Funny Farm, where life is beautiful all the time and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white suits..." I used to sing that to my kids when they were growing up and I was feeling in a crazy mood (it helped confirm to them that I am crazy, which most teens think of their parents anyway).  

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Kay, I had a coworker tell me one time "Marg, you really are crazy, but its a good crazy."  

This morning in my daily quotes that comes to my email was this:

“Nothing is more important than empathy for another human being’s suffering. Nothing. Not a career, not wealth, not intelligence, certainly not status. We have to feel for one another if we’re going to survive with dignity.”  ~ Audrey Hepburn

We face each day without our mates.  We might feel sorry for ourselves (I know I do), but I have so much help from family and friends.  I don't ask for help, it is given.  I do have to turn it down sometimes because some things I want to do on my own while I can.  I also have family that need more help than I can give them.  I can offer suggestions, but I cannot always help.

Some of "us" have no one and they are too far away in miles, but sometimes they live alone among strangers.  I could suggest church, but did you know when my mom broke her hip and needed help getting to and from church, no one in her church offered to help.  No one offered to come pick her up for church.  This was when she had some of her mind left.  So, sometimes church is not always the answer.  Those that are powerless to do anything else will pray for these people.  I have friends that I am not kin to (well, I think there was so much marrying cousins in the old days, I probably am kin to all my friends back home,) but when I came to this hospital to work in Arkansas I made some friends for life, and I love them for being my friend.

But still, some people have no-one.  My reach is not long enough.  I have a member of my family that won't ask the government for help.  All I can say is, if you do not reach out to someone, to some meeting with people, to a senior center if you are old enough, no one will know you are there, alone, needing help, needing assistance in the way of human feelings, assistance of some sort.  If you can afford it, and even if you cannot, there are places called assisted living.  I have a friend going into assisted living soon.  She has family that is involved in their own close family problems she cannot/will not ask for help.  So as friends, we will all be there for her and possibly a bunch of us will live together in the same assisted living facility.  Sometimes we need help, even if we are too proud to ask for it.  My family member that won't ask, then I will have to find her the help because she will die if she stays all alone.  Now, she loves being alone.  Some people do, but you can be alone in assisted living too.  If you don't need people, that is fine, but at some time or the other, unless we die first, we are all going to need physical and mental help. 

This is Sunday morning (I think) and my old religious habits die hard, and I have a few people on my heart today.

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Marg, you mentioned that you feel sorry for yourself and out of all the emotions I now feel, that's not one of them. I feel sad and my life feels empty. I feel so much pain thinking how unfair life was for Tammy in so many ways. It hurts knowing the future we wanted will not happen. 

What happened to Tammy was the most horrible thing that ever happened in my life and I miss Tammy with all my heart. I fantasize that this was a dream and she will be back. But, Tammy didn't leave because she wanted to. I mean, if she divorced me or something and decided she wanted to be with someone else, then yes, maybe I'd feel sorry for myself. 

I'm also not jealous (and don't feel sorry for myself) when I see happily married couples. Sure, it's a reminder of my life that's gone but I feel lucky that I had a wonderful wife that loved me like Tammy did.

 

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