Sunday, April 30, 2017

Love so Deep

 You didn't often vocalize your love. You yelled when angry. You cussed when frustrated. You gave the silent treatment when you felt it justified. You found it difficult though, to say those three words out loud. You would say it on occasion, which made it that much more special, but you did something that made the speaking part of it less important, you showed it. You lived that love, and that spoke louder than any words ever could.
 You showed it, by doing a job that was in no way easy. You, who was accustomed to being home every day, who knew exactly what you were going to do when, had to make great changes. When the place you worked shut down, and you had to find other employment, that lack of a high school diploma made that nearly impossible. That was when you had to make a decision that took you from everything you knew, and everything you were accustomed to and put you into an entirely different world.  Your home became an eighteen wheeler and your place of business was the entire country. You went from being home every day, to being home once a month, more only if your runs took you close to home.  You did it, so you could provide for us. So that we could remain in the lifestyle that we knew, the place we were comfortable. You did it, so bills would be paid, food could be bought and maybe, when the dollars were there, we could do something fun. You sacrificed home time, for us, because of your love for us.
 You showed it, by the things you would do when you were home. The things you would repair or help repair. The things that you would take care of outside, mowing lawns or cutting weeds. You did it, by helping with getting the trash hauled away. Actions.
 You were not one to speak, but you knew how to buy. When the money was there, if I wanted a flower, or needed a new dress, you would get it without question. You would go for take out food, and bring me back a pie, or if you made a run to town, you brought back a candy bar for me. Because you loved me.
  You didn't have the greatest sense of humor, but you put up with mine, and you were learning. It was amazing and exciting when you would allow that humor to show. I don't know how many times James or I would say something that you either didn't know how to take, or would simply look as us as if we had lost our mind, but then there were times, when you would smile. Some comment, some joke, some silly act, had touched that funny bone and create that smile. Those times when I was taking pictures and you grew weary of the camera pointing at you and you would make one of those faces at me. But you didn't tell me to stop, because of that love.
  You teased me about my love of hats, but you tolerated my wearing them. You commented on my solar light collection, but you helped me add to the growing light show. You loved watching television in bed but many nights you would turn the television off and go in the other room so I could sleep when I had to get up for work the next morning.
The list could go on and on, but I just wanted it said, that even though you rarely said it, you showed it, every single day, in the only ways you knew how. You lived it.

Still Being Used

Hi Hon...
  I went to church tonight, yeah, I know, that is something I haven't been doing very often I know. They were talking this morning about how they felt it was important for us to be there and that the staff was going to share some things that was on their minds. Things that they had been praying about. To be honest, I wasn't planning on going, but through the day I felt that I should be there. I waited until the last minute to start preparing supper so that maybe I could use that as an excuse not to go. But supper got ready, I got ready and with only fifteen minutes to get there, I left for church. When I arrived I saw that there was already a good many people there.
 When it got underway, each staff member took a turn and got up to speak. They were very honest in what and how they were feeling. How they felt as if they had allowed other things to prevent them from doing what they ought to be doing. They were doing their jobs, but were not doing what as Christians we are called to do, share love and share the Gospel. Each had their reasons, none of which they were proud of.
 Afterwards there were individuals who shared what was on their minds, shared their experiences. I remained in my seat and I remained quiet, but the words were churning inside.
 You know I believe that we each have at least one gift, some have many, but we all have at least one. I believe that we are to use those gifts to the best of our ability. After listening to everyone tonight, I feel as if I have, but yet have not. And you my love, are a part of that. For as long as I can remember, I've loved to write. From the moment I was capable to stringing sentences together, I was writing. I've been writing a good bit since you left, most of it about or to you. I believe, that those writings can be, and have been a manner of using that gift and sharing more than just my missing you.
 Many people know of our Christianity, I think many may be reading, just to see how I will react to certain things. Your loss, the things dealing with getting your earthly body home, the financial struggles, the frustrations of every day stuff, the missing you... the list goes on. Thinking that, I have to be careful in what I write, but yet I want to write from the heart. I think that, even though you're gone, you're still being used in a sense. Your life and your death is a tool and a doorway to expressing and sharing not only how I feel, but how God is sustaining me through this process and journey.
 People have been praying for me and James since they heard. Those prayers have been answered in a mighty way. When I have felt alone, when I felt a sadness so deep I thought I was drowning, when the darkness felt overwhelming, I felt His presence and His comfort surrounding me. Through the darkness, I saw His light, guiding me. When I felt weak, and I have felt weak often, He has been my strength.
 When you left, many people gifted us financially. It has been a great blessing as it has kept us able to pay bills without concern as we wait for insurance settlements. I know, your first thought was that we would never be able to pay them back, but hon, you miss the point of being blest while being a blessing. Those who gave gifts, don't expect repayment, their rewards are in Heaven and will be great.
 People have asked if there is anything they can do for us. Even today, nearly two months after your passing, someone asked me that. I still don't usually know how to answer that question, but considering who asked, I gave them an actual answer. Oh, and there may be someone who can come by one day and help get your flagpole up. I just need to find the post hole diggers and a weird shovel that he said was needed.
 My point in all of this is just that, even though you are already there in Heaven, God is still allowing me to use you to further the knowledge of Him. I can share how He has sustained me, I can share how He has given me a peace that surpasses all understanding-- even and especially mine. I have felt His forgiveness in the guilt I have felt during this storm. I felt that maybe if I had done this or that or been a better this or that, then maybe.. It is giving people a chance to be a blessing for us and me able to share in the only way I currently am able, with words. I have never felt comfortable speaking, I get all tongue tied, but writing, I'm very happy hiding somewhere and putting word to print. I can say my heart and hopefully be clear.
 I love you Hon and I do miss you, and I thank God every day that He is allowing me to use you to share His love, His hope, His peace, His forgiveness.

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Just wanted to talk...

 Hey Honey,
    When the mail finally ran today there was a letter inside that would have made you smile. It was a statement saying that the last payment on that loan is smaller than the amount automatically withdrawn, so they are lowering the auto amount so as to not over charge us. Finally, that will be done. I know that you said that once that was paid off then we could afford another car for me, but well, my baby still runs well enough to get me where I need to go, as long as I don't push her too hard or too far.
 Life is so different now. I'm really trying so hard to keep going, but it isn't easy. Things that were so common place before, are difficult. I want to be able to go on, just as I once did, but that's simply not possible. Its as if I'm in some alternate universe and I'm trying to find my way but there are no street signs or directions. Just this huge labyrinth that keeps sending me into dead ends and false hopes. Even something as simple as grocery shopping has me walking in a state of sadness because I should be looking for something that you would like, but instead I'm buying ingredients for vegetable meals and green tea. The green tea is not bad actually, you might would have liked it. I've been making it here rather than buy that brand we were getting for James, its cheaper this way and I can control the sugar content.
 I've got most of the stuff together for the meeting with the clerk of probate. I keep wondering if I ought to take extra stuff, just in case. Take it with me, but only bring it out if its needed. I keep hearing you asking me why I don't already have it all together and ready, even though the meeting isn't until May 9th.
 James hauled the trash off today. I told him that we really needed to finish getting the garage cleaned out, but that would take several more trips to the landfill and you know how difficult it is to get James to go to begin with. I worry about snakes though. This is probably going to be a bad year for snakes, especially copperheads. I've heard of quite a few people seeing and killing them. Dad even called up here late the other night, remember? Warning me to be careful that they saw a copperhead down by the building.
 I'm keeping up with the drivers from Abilene. I don't say too much any more. It feels odd. I don't want anyone to take it wrong when I speak. One of the drivers was in Gastonia not too long ago.  I did speak to them, and they responded and all, but it felt strange. I know that you didn't care when I spoke to people and I always told you, and told you what we discussed. You really didn't have much interest in any of this online stuff though. You didn't care as long as it didn't cost anything and as long as I remembered our vows. Even though you're not here now, it still doesn't seem right. So I leave the conversations short.
 You would have laughed at me today. I was looking for a receipt, I went out to the car and was searching. I didn't find the receipt, but I did find a milk chocolate bar that had been in there for a while. You could tell it was completely melted. I could hear you asking me, didn't I remember it was in there?" Apparently not. But not being one to waste chocolate, I brought it inside and put it in the fridge. I'm not sure I'll eat it, but we'll see. Speaking of the explorer, can you believe we've had that thing for 15 years? That's a record for us.
  James and Bella scared me today. When I first went out to look in the car, I realized that I didn't see Bella. I thought James had gone on to the landfill and I was afraid that Bella might have followed him. I called for her, then went in the house to make sure she was not in here, she wasn't. I went back out and called louder, James answered me, he had her. He was down at mom's. He came around the corner of the house with her and told her to go home. She came like a shot. James pulled the truck back up to the house and explained that she had jumped int he truck and he took her for a ride to mom's. He could have just told me first..but you know, she does love to ride.
 Ah well hon, as you love to remind me, its getting late and I do have church to go to in the morning. I'm going to say goodnight, I miss you and I love you. I have another vase and some flowers to bring to you in the morning..I'll see you then.


Hey Honey,
Yesterday I read an article about a young woman who was involved in a single vehicle accident. Somehow, she lost control of her vehicle and left the road hitting a tree. Her vehicle caught fire, most of her clothing was burned away, but somehow she got out of the vehicle. I'm not sure whether she got out on her own or was helped out. I mention this, because of what happened next. A truck driver stopped and stayed with her as they awaited transport to a hospital. Reportedly he kept saying something about she was just a baby, the article said she was twenty-five. Her injuries were so severe that she did not survive. The article said that her family members are looking for the truck driver who stayed with her, they want to thank you for making sure she wasn't alone in her final moments. That is the reason I mention this, she wasn't alone.
 I feel so badly, this brought the tears and the hurt back to the surface again. No one was with you. They found you, in your truck, slumped over and alone. Physically alone anyway, and that breaks my heart that when it came your time to leave us, no one was with you.
 That time in Georgia, when the paramedics said you were so close to death when they found you, but they were with you and they got you quickly to a hospital. I was going so crazy trying to find out something, anything about what was going on. All of those new privacy laws were making it impossible until a friend contacted me and got their pastor to go to the hospital. James and I were packing, ready to head that way when you said don't come. But you weren't alone.
 That time your oxygen levels got so low here and mom took you to the doctor. The doctor called for an ambulance, and mom waited with you. I was at the hospital before you got there, so you once again, were not alone. As soon as the person there called my name, I was up and following them back to where you waited for treatments.
 On March 7th, no one was with you. You were parked in a truck stop in what might as well have been a million miles away, when you were called home. I had spoken with you that morning. I had spoken with you often over the weekend, you felt so badly and thought you were coming down with the flu, or even pneumonia. You had thought if you could just rest over the weekend, that you would feel better, but you didn't and you wanted to come home. You had spoken with your dispatcher and he was searching for a load that would get you here. Both of us had spoken with you around nine that morning. Then suddenly, no one could reach you.  It was around 11am, that you were found, alone in your truck, slumped over, already gone. The one who found you, called for help, they tried, but it was too late.
It bothers me, that you were physically alone. It hurts, that you left us, with no one by your side. That you were so very far away. It pains me deeply, when I think of this, and I think of this often.
 Even as I understand, that it is only physically that you were alone, even as I understand, that there were probably angels at your side, guiding you toward the glorious gates of Heaven. Even as I believe, that family members who have left us before, were there, waiting to welcome you, it still hurts. I know, that you closed your eyes here, and opened them there, in Heaven's glory, I know, that our Lord and Savior was there to welcome you home. All of this I know, and it does comfort me, and I do pray about the pain and guilt I feel that I didn't say to you, when you first complained about being sick, to come home. That we would get you to the doctor. I did not tell you that, I didn't stop you from just taking that weekend break so far away. So you left us, alone. And your being alone, is the hardest thing to take.
 The praise in this, is that you were parked, that big truck was not driving down the roadway anywhere, meaning that no one else was in danger. Should you have been called home while driving down the highway, that could have been disastrous. The praise in this, is that I know, you are no longer suffering. I know, that you can breathe easily again, that you don't hurt and can do all of the things that you once were able to do easily.  You said often, that you would give anything if you could breathe again, well, you did. And while this would still hurt, it might not hurt quite as badly if only you had been home.
 I hope that family finds that truck driver and are able to thank him. I hope that the good folks at Abilene told the driver who found you, that I said thank you. I pray, that at some point, I can get past this sadness in myself, over your being alone.
 I  miss you and I will always love you..

Friday, April 28, 2017

Writing, Sharing, journaling, healing....

    Before you left, I was listening to a faith based radio station. I have continued to listen only now I have it on every radio I listen to. Even in the car it has replaced that oldies station. The music and the message have helped me immensely as I walk through this. Last night, there was a confirmation that something I am doing is right. There was a small segment on keeping a gratitude journal. I'll be the first to admit that my writing has not been all gratitude, but the gratitude is and always has been there.  How could it not be, considering the way we have been blessed?
   Last night I found a small hardbound journal and started writing down the things I was thankful for that day. I had no idea, that there was so many small things that added up to almost a full page. I left the book beside my rocker in the bedroom, waiting there, pen beside it, for me to sit down tonight and add the next page of gratitude. I think, even the small things are important. If we don't take note, those things may slip away, seemingly unimportant and not worthy of remembering, but they are. They are because they are each a step forward, as the rungs in a ladder take us up, so do the small things, encourage and build us. Each one, can be that nail in a constructed life of thankfulness.
  I've been writing and sharing a lot here online since you left. The words bleed from my heart onto the page. The emotions are here but that means, they aren't bottled up inside, causing who knows what harm. There are times that it is the same emotions, the same things eating at my spirit, attacking and trying to tear me down. I'm making it though, but it is because my strength is not mine.
  Another segment on the station was talking about being the salt of the earth and having an impact. Discussing how we could lose our effect just as salt can lose its flavor. Thinking about it, I realize that there are a lot of things I do not do, but along with the do not, there are the things to do. Salt by itself is only an ingredient in a bottle, it does nothing for food, it helps nothing, just sits there in a bottle. Its the same with us, if we don't interact, if we don't share and become a part of life, we do no good for any one or any thing. We are just a life confined. We have to step forward and be a part, but we have to be a right part. Salt loses its flavor due to contamination, it is important that we not contaminate our life. Others are watching, they see what we do, hear our words, see the things we laugh at or don't. It was said that we will never know our full impact, how we flavored life and that fact is not important. We shouldn't worry about numbers, just being the salt, being the light, by using the gifts and talents we have been given.
So I write. I've been writing for as long as I can remember. The words flow forth and I write. The words may not always be good, they may never win me awards or large sums of money, but that is unimportant. These words, I hope bring a bit of reassurance, bring a bit of understanding, bring a bit of peace to a troubled heart. As I write and share the feelings of loss, the feelings of confusion, the feelings of grief, I hope that someone can also see the healing. I hope that as I share, someone can see the source of my hope. I hope, that someone can realize that that same source, can be theirs as well. So I write, I share, I journal everything and I heal....
one day, one step, one breath, one prayer at a time

Thursday, April 27, 2017

You Would have Thought

I'm not sure what I want to say. What is it, that is on my mind, wanting to be said, or maybe needing to be said,  but is just a scrambled up, jumbled up, tangle of words that I'm not sure I can coherently express.
You would have thought, that I would be accustomed to being alone. After all, you spent more time out on the road hauling freight across the country than you did at home. You, yourself said that you didn't live here, you only visited. You were home one weekend a month. There was always way too much that needed to be done, and always only a part of it was accomplished.  You wanted to rest and spend time with us as much as possible. You wanted to give attention and get attention. You wanted to annoy, to boss, to love. All too soon, it was time to pack up and load up your stuff into the truck. We would help you get everything ready, laundry washed, folded and packed up ready to go. Your groceries all in the car ready to take to the truck, coffee made, good-bye kisses, a last hug and that diesel engine would roar to life. I hated watching you leave, even as I did it nearly every chance I got. There were times that I couldn't watch, and I would come back to the house, just to stand on the porch and listen as you pulled away. The house would be so cold, so quiet, so empty, without you. In more ways than one, you filled this house. As soft spoken as you were, your voice when you wanted, would carry through the house and echo off the walls. You could be quiet as a mouse with laryngitis, or as noisy as a raging herd of elephants stampeding across sheets of bubble wrap. You could decide in the space of a heartbeat what you wanted to eat at home, and take what seemed like forever to decide if we went out, even though you should have known that menu by heart.
 You would have thought, I would like the quiet. You would have thought but you and I would have both been wrong. This is a different quiet. This is a, he's not ever coming back, quiet. Its the quiet that says, get used to this, its your new normal. Never again, will there be laundry, groceries or anything else to do in preparation for leaving. Never again will we be greeting that big rig, Sweet Lady Green. The truck that carried you back and forth, the truck that carried you across the land, keeping you safe from elements, giving you a place to sleep, protecting you from unsavory folks, holding you, after you passed, until someone could come. Sweet Lady Green, who will not be back, because you won't be back. There's no one to argue with now over the television being on in the bedroom, when I'm needing to call it a night and you're not ready. How many nights, that I didn't have to worry over these things, but thought nothing of it, now, I do because now, its different. Now, you're not coming back.
 I went out late this evening, just before it got too dark, just as the solar lights were coming on and wandered around the yard. I looked at the seeds that are coming up, wondering if they are flowers or weeds. I noticed that some of those pink ones that I planted years ago are blooming. I was happy to see them as I thought they had all died. I wandered around, looking, but not really seeing. Hoping that I didn't wander up on a snake. I didn't.
 It just feels, empty. There's just something missing now, something so different. I keep trying to get past the feelings, but so far that hasn't been possible. They are always there, always with me, always ready to strike and remind me yet again, just how much I miss you. Every time I have to take a step, act on something, do something else that has to do with your passing, it is a reminder. I have made the appointment with the people to probate your will. Nice lady, was very encouraging, said that we could most probably do this easily without going through full probate since everything but your truck was in both names. I had heard some real horror stories, so the conversation was a great relief.
 The quiet, is deafening. The silence, itself fills this place, silence echoes off the walls, and threatens to drown me.
 But I'll sit in your chair, on the porch for a moment, I'll watch the lights and throw sticks for the dog. I'll listen to the critters of the night as they start moving. I'll think about you, about how you tried so hard to take care of us. I'll think about how you would push yourself beyond where you should, how you refused to even contemplate disability, how you fought, right up until the very end. You died, trying to provide for us. I get angry at myself for not being there for you. I get frustrated thinking that there should have been some way, some manner that we could have taken care of things, got things paid off, saved more, spent less. That there should have been something different, then maybe you would still be here, yawning way too loudly, pecking on the door frame, taking too long to order at the Cracker Barrel, asking the check out people at walmart to keep your cold stuff separate. But then, maybe, even if we had owned no one, even if we were totally debt free and retired and roaming, you would have still left as you did. All I can do, is trust in the Lord, is to know you are safe with Him and healthy once again.
 I'll sit in the quiet, and I'll listen for the reassurance that will come from Him, that all will be well, just wait, believe and trust.

He looked like you

I had to go back to Walmart today, they had ordered that tube of ointment for my eyes. I was so tired of waking up ever morning feeling as if someone was sticking pins in my eyes, I was ready to pay the price for the stuff. While I was in there I thought I'd buy some ice cream. I had noticed a man in the store earlier, but not really paid attention as I was on a, stop the pain mission. Now, as I turned the corner into the frozen foods aisle, there he was coming toward me. He didn't see me, see my reaction, he was busy shopping. His focus on the frozen prepared meals.
He looked so much like you. His looking at those dinners, reminded me of you, as you made ready to leave out. He had the same body build only he was a little larger than you. His hair was white and he was the same height as you. He looked, so much like you. I was taken aback, had to keep walking, to quickly get past him, I didn't want to be caught staring. I didn't know if I could explain, why I was staring.
I guess somewhere in the back of my mind, there is a file cabinet drawer tagged, open at strange times. Inside, in a large folder, is a list of all the things that are going to happen when I least expect them. I'm sure, that I know a lot of what is on this list, I just refused to consider or worry about them. Which is why I was caught so unaware.
 I've spoken online with people who have lost loved ones, they told me that the same thing has happened to them, many times over. Maybe then, maybe, just maybe, next time, I won't stare or be so inconsiderate. Maybe, I won't run like a coward, afraid to face a memory.
 I'm still trying to learn how to face things, adapt to doing things without you.
There's no one to fight over the  cart with when I go shopping. I don't have to worry about looking for something I need, find it, turn around to put it in the buggy and you and it be gone. Four or more aisles over you look surprised when you look up and see me and my exasperated look, "You looking for me?" always your question.
 James and I can eat when we're ready, no one has to remind us twenty times that its in there, seems I would know that as usually I'm the one who cooked.
 I could write a list a mile long and still be writing. The thing is, I miss all of those things. I was listening to His Radio on the way home yesterday, the lady on the air was talking about the sequel to Frozen coming out in about 2 years. She asked if you could freeze one moment, what would it be? For a moment, I would freeze that morning. I would stop long enough that right before we disconnected, I would tell you, that I love you. Even though you were in such a hurry, I would get that said. I'll always remember you saying, "Let me go." I really doubt, that you had any idea exactly where you were going.
I do miss you. I am learning how to handle things. Maybe, I'll even be ready next time I see someone who looks so much like you.
I think though, that maybe, just maybe, it was a reminder, sort of like a living sticky note, that you're okay and that I'm not alone. Maybe, it was one of those, have heart, everything will be okay, moments. Maybe, I'm learning to open my eyes, and see things that are meant to be a reminder that I am a child of God and He will never leave me alone. Especially in this.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017


Am I hiding, some of, or all of, how I feel? While I share words upon words, while I write and share, do I still hide?  Do I take the emotions of the events I face, and compartmentalize them, file them away, all the while, not feeling? Or, do I feel, yet now show?
I have faced many things in this life, like so many others. There are those, who have faced things I never will, who have dealt with things that others will never understand how, you can face such a thing, and still survive. I have faced things, that would have some ask, how, do you deal with these things?
How do you face the bad times, with a smile? How do you face the difficult times, in strength? How do you walk in a way, that others will see, and wonder?
 My husband and I were married for 32 years. While others have been with their loved ones for much longer, still 32 is a long time, over half of my life. Now, he is gone, left this life and moved to the next. I am left here to face how ever long I have without him. How, do I face this, and not crumble under the pain? The son we created together, is hurting also, he misses his dad, he regrets things, he wishes that things could have been different. How do I face my pain, and see his?
 How do I go about this life, as if nothing has changed, when everything has?
After I got word that my husband had passed away, in another state, I had to be strong while I waited and dealt with everything involved in getting him home. In the preparations for his memorial services, in the many questions that would be asked, to which I had no answers. All of the emotions that would surface, or that would dwell just below the skin and make me want to hide away. I didn't leave the house for almost a week. When I did, it was only to go get the groceries needed to keep us fed. It took all the strength I could find, to accomplish that one activity. Answering the phone became a challenge, I became good at recognizing important numbers and ignoring the rest. Just talking, was hard.
 When the day finally arrived, almost two weeks later, that we were able to finally lay my husband's body to rest, it took everything I had. Even as I walked upright, even as I faced all of those people who came to express their respects. Even as I watched and listened to the speakers. Even as I sat, staring at the spray across his casket, inside the trembling threatened, but did not spring forth. Was I hiding away from what was happening? Was I hiding how I felt? Was I facing and yet not?
Now, going on two months later, am I still hiding the pain? Am I hiding, or I am simply taking care of business as I can, knowing that once everything has been handled, I'll crumble? They said I would crumble after the funeral, but I didn't. I'm taking care of insurance forms, talking with people we owe. I'm trying to get a new furnace and money up to replace the roof of the house. I'm preparing to deal with probate needs. The list is still long and I try to focus on the necessary things.
I never knew, I could do this.
I can't do this. Not alone.
I find my strength, I find my peace, I find my comfort in my Lord. Hiding? Yes, in Him. It is the same as it was when I was dealing with the cancer and the treatments for it. I faced it with Jesus. I would take long walks, just to find the comfort that is in Him. I haven't done that this time, I've spent time here in prayer, but I'm thinking I need to get out of this room and into the place where the relationship grew so strong those few years back. When I walked then, every day, there was something new waiting on me to see, to photograph. There is no reason that would be different now. I feel the comfort of His presence while I go through this. I feel His peace, in the storm. I feel His strength, when I am weak. I feel, His guidance when I am confused. He has sent people to me, who have guided me with patience and understanding.
Am I hiding? Yes, I am hiding. I am hiding in the strong tower that is my Lord. I am hiding in His love, leaning on His strength, clinging to His robe, trusting that even this pain, will pass. I am clinging to Him, hoping that as I suffer, this small pain, my understanding of the pain He suffered for me, will grow. That His blood will wash over me and cleanse me of any doubt, any fear, any thing that might escape from me, that would weaken the witness He has entrusted me with.
I am hiding. I am hiding in Him, and in Him, is my strength, my hope, my joy.

Monday, April 24, 2017

One more call, one more letter, one more step

 The insurance guy called today. He asked if the death certificate had arrived yet and I told him that it had arrived. So he's coming out tomorrow to pick up a copy. Funny, I really would have thought he wanted a certified copy but he said that I could make a copy with my printer and they would accept that. I will have a certified copy ready just in case though. A letter came today from one of the retirement plans you had. They said in the letter  that they had been checking with social security and that you were listed as no longer living and they wanted to make sure, because if you were no longer living they were going to stop any payments. I didn't get to call today, but I will call Wednesday afternoon and ask them, "What payments, they've never sent any payments as you never started it." Sad, how all that money you paid into that is now gone. Someone else, somewhere else will get it. But, you told me that time and again, if you died, there would be no money. So, there will be no money.
It is what it is I guess. I'm sure that I will get a letter from the other one soon, letting me know the same thing.
 All of this seems so surreal. There is so very much to do and I have no idea what I'm trying to accomplish. I have learned to ask questions, a lot of questions. Thankfully those I'm asking are patient with me and answer all they can the best they can. As much as I hate GPS devices, I almost wish I had one to help me navigate this. My luck though I'd end up in a lake somewhere. Or in some back, dead end alley like we did that time we were trying to find my high school reunion over in Charlotte, remember that one?
 Ronnie, the funeral director is getting me the direct phone number to the clerk of probate court for your will. I've been trying to find it but there are so many numbers and I got very confused and gave up. I really didn't want to call the wrong number and look foolish. Of course that shouldn't be anything new, I've done that a couple of times already. I don't know what this is going to cost, but I'll find out. I was told that its best to go ahead and go through probate, just to cover my backside. I have your will, might as well do it right. I'll have to change mine now, I'll do it eventually and I'll keep my promise I made about taking care of things.
 I'm going to keep your truck. I'll have it put in my name so we'll have it when we need it. I'll have to find out what all I need to do though, as again, its another one of those things I have no clue about.  James got it inspected and even paid the taxes and bought the sticker for it. So I bought him a new pair of steel toed boots, he's really rough on those things, but you know that.
I've already let Abilene know about the death certificate and emailed them a copy so they could get things started. Once I get that I can pay for your funeral and put the rest toward your headstone. I know you, and I know that you won't want anything really fancy. I do hope to get something nice though, you at least deserve that much.
 You always ask me, have I done this, have I done that, is this or that paid, how much money do you have? Well you don't need that any more, and I'm trying really trying to get everything done but its so hard and I really don't want to do all this. What I really want is you, alive and complaining. I want you calling and asking questions. I want you alive and asking if we're eating at home or the Cracker Barrel. I want you alive and complaining about going to New York or Jersey or Chicago. But that isn't going to happen.
so I answer one more call
I open one more letter
I'll take one more step
and I'll miss you even more every single day.

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

 Today wasn't such a bad day. It was actually almost good. Well, it was good, I'll be honest. Even with the oft times pouring rain, even though mom didn't want to go out in the rain, even though, the obvious is still there, it was a good day.
 I did still wake off and on during the night, listening to the rain falling. But I'd pull a pillow close, or draw the cover back up and snuggle down and allow sleep to over take me once again. The alarm almost scared me when it went off so that I would get up in time for church. The cool of the room had me not wanting to get up, but I knew I had to, even if it were only to prepare breakfast for James who is helping with the sound at church this month. Since I was up, I would definitely go on to church. I was glad that I did. Bible study was interesting, but the service this morning really pulled me out of my sadness and into the merciful grace of our loving God. Through song, fellowship, and the message, I found a peace that I had misplaced. Now I'm sure that I'll still go through rough moments, but thank you God, that I have those moments like today to help me balance things out. That will help me walk through this storm and see the rainbows you have waiting on the other side. You have placed many caring people there, who are always keeping up with how we are doing. They ask questions, not to be nosy, but to make sure of how we are and if we have needs. Yes, we do, but I know You have a plan and everything will work out.
 Since mom didn't want to go out in the rain James and I went. He needed a new tire for that motorcycle and some stuff for his computer. I bought him a pair of boots, the ones he was wearing were literally coming apart and that wasn't good. Even though James doesn't like to go shopping, he didn't give me too much grief, even being patient when I wanted to walk out into the garden center. The only thing I bought was some stuff to help feed and protect my roses, newspaper in hopes of coupons and well, ice cream. I still didn't find the type fencing I wanted for across the yard, but that may be just as well. We'll see if there is a better way to keep people from driving in my yard.
 After James and I got back home we've pretty much been in separate parts of the house. But we're still together, we still talk to each other from time to time and we are getting better. James and I talked a little on the way to get that tire. I let him know that even though he may not realize it, or may not think so, I was missing his dad terribly. I did not go into all of the stuff that I've posted online, I didn't think he really wanted to hear all of that, not yet anyway. He did say that he wished he had known the man that was in the photos that I shared of when he was younger, and healthier. I wish he had as well. I think that was a large part of the sadness in me a lot of times, I remembered that man, and wondered how my husband had left himself so far behind.
Its easy I guess, to allow yourself to slip. You get a little older, a little more tired, you exercise less, you don't eat as well, you don't take good care of yourself and your health suffers. It becomes a catch 22, you're too tired to exercise, you've lost the desire to exercise, so you begin to gain weight, you begin to suffer the ailments brought on by the weight, you know you need to lose the weight, but you are too tired to exercise. You gain the weight, it is more difficult to do things, even as you know that in doing things you would breathe better, feel better, live better.
 Even though, we are not promised tomorrow, we should take care of our health, for our own well being and for the ones we love and who love us. So that we will possibly be around longer, and they will know the person we are. We can get out and enjoy doing things with them, actively doing things.
 Tomorrow I will try to start things in motion again, now that I have the certificates and can do something. Tomorrow, I will try to have another good day, remembering the good things from today. Recalling the good things of past years. Taking the best parts of today, into tomorrow and hoping that tomorrow feeds on today and it too, is a good day.
 Today, when it seemed that the falling rain had slacked off somewhat, I walked up to the beds where I had planted the flower seeds. It looks as if something is coming up, I hope that it is flowers, today's rains, tomorrow's flowers. Today's good day, tomorrow's hope. that tomorrow, will help that day's tomorrow will help the next..and the new normal will be a little bit better.

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Fill Me

Lord I feel so empty, fill me.
Fill me with Your peace
for inside, my emotions are at war
confusion, pain, anger
all churning about
fill me
with Your peace
Fill me Lord
with Your calm
when everything seems to be crazy
and I don't know where to run
fill me
with Your calm
Fill me Lord
with Your joy
for mine seems to be missing
lost along the way
buried in the cold ground
fill me Lord
with Your joy
Fill me Lord
with Your presence
let every empty space
every missing piece
be filled with You
so that You are all I know
my life, centered on You
Fill me Lord
I humbly ask
in Your name

I Had No Idea (anything could hurt this badly)

Lord, I feel so empty, like I am living a dream, a nightmare that I cannot awaken from. I try to do the things that I know have to be done. But my life has become robotic, I feel as if I am going through the motions and nothing more. I find myself often stopping in mid stride to simply stare off into the distance as if I am trying to see something not there. As if I am trying to recognize the person I have become and the life that is now mine. Somewhere, I feel as if I have left the person I was, lost myself in this new state and not sure where to look to find me. So here I am Lord, here I am, whoever I am now.
 I had no idea, that things would change like this, with only a few words. I hear them Lord, over and over, echoing in my mind and heart. It couldn't be true, it shouldn't be true, don't let it be true, but it was, it was true. That one person telling me that my husband had been found deceased, my shouts of no, and the tears that would not, will not fall. Why Lord, can I not cry? Why do the tears lurk, just on the edge, just behind my eyes and not fall? Why does my heart feel daily as if it is breaking over and over again, but yet, it still beats and I still breathe. And I walk this life, trying to find my way.
 I had no idea, the confusion that was to come. All of the things that would need to be done, many that still need to be done. I ask questions and I get answers but I remain confused on some things. I do believe, Lord, that I remain even today, in a shocked state of denial. I know he is gone. I know that after the fight and delay in getting him home, that finally he was laid to rest. I know he is gone, but I still wait, and wish and hope for something that will never come. My brother's family and my cousins sent flowers, living plants that I have on the porch. They greet me every time I approach the door, every time I leave, I see them. A living reminder of love.
 I  had no idea, that the pain would be so bad, so strong, so unending. I can be going about my day, everything seemingly okay and it strikes out of nowhere. The sharp pain of remembrance, the reminder, that he is gone. That he left and I am alone. I will not hear his voice again in this life. I will not feel him near, touch his face, hold his hand. I will not get to argue over silly things, ask for goofy things, do the things together that we so enjoyed. How was it, that he filled my life so much, that there is such an empty spot inside me now? How is it, that I miss the things that so frustrated me before? The things that I would fight to ignore just because I knew he was doing it to annoy me, I knew he was doing it, to get attention. How is it, that I miss all of that so badly now? That I would love just one more time, to hear him pecking on the wall, yawning in that exaggerated fashion, complaining that there was nothing on television to watch.
 I had no idea, that night would be so hard. That when I went about the usual evening activities, it would be so difficult. The simple act of feeding the dogs, making sure they had fresh water, would hurt so badly. Hearing you in my mind, asking if it had been done. Had they been taken care of? That as I turn out the lights, make sure the doors are locked, and make my way toward the bed, my steps would slow and I would dread the turning back of the covers. Why, does setting my alarm clock for the morning, hurt? I have all the radios in the house now on a faith based station, the one on the head of the bed playing softly all night. I find myself walking all during the night, the songs a comfort as I draw his pillow close. I'm sleeping in one of his shirts, it only helps a little. How is it, that it hurts so badly? He wasn't home that much. His job taking him away most of the time, he was home only a couple of days a month, but this is different. This time I know, he isn't coming back, never coming back. So the ceiling fan turns on high, just like he liked it, I pull his pillow close and I try to sleep. Try to find an escape in sleep that I can't find in the day.
 I had no idea, that this one necklace would become so dear. He bought it for me almost two years ago, but I was afraid to wear it. The chain so very small, and I such a klutz when it comes to fragile things. This necklace has proven itself stronger so far than me. I have only taken it off once and that was when I had my mammogram. I wasn't risking it during that test. I had it back on shortly afterwards. It was a gift from my husband and I do treasure it now. Now more than ever before.
 I had no idea, that when he bought me those roses, it would be the last flowers he bought for me. He knew how much I loved flowers, and was always giving in to my, just one more plea. I was so afraid that they would die before I could get them planted. When the weather finally turned warm enough and the signs were right, James helped me get them planted. They look good, but I need to get something to keep the bugs off of them. I'm sure there is something natural that I can use that won't risk hurting the bees or butterfly. There was several roses that I thought had died, but they have come back out, and others have grown like crazy. I wonder.... Its funny, we could never get grass to grow in the yard, but now, grass is slowly spreading. I wonder...
  I had no idea, no idea that I would miss that crazy man this much. That I would lose me in the process of losing him. I am trying, but I have little to no desire to do the things that I loved so much before. I look out the door, see the beautiful day, see that flowers and trees are blooming, but I have no desire to pick up my cameras and go try to capture it. Part of me wants to go do things, but then, I quickly lose the desire, depressed? Possibly. Lonely, most definitely. Praying? Always.
Because I had no idea, that anything could hurt this badly.

Friday, April 21, 2017

letter to my son

My dearest son,
  I know you are hurting. This is not easy for you at all, you don't want to discuss it, you don't want to think about it, you don't want to be living this, our new normal. Neither do I. Unfortunately we don't have any choice. He left us here, and we must learn to face life without him.
 I see your anger.I hear it in your voice when you can't hold it in any longer. You tried, you really, honestly tried, to get him to eat better. You really tried, to get him to get up and move more. Habits though, are so difficult and at times impossible to break.
 You saw the photos of your dad as a younger man.  He was handsome and slim. He was active in his life, doing anything he chose, and doing it without difficulty. I know, you never got to meet that man. You do look like him though. Check out your reflection in the mirror and then look at those photos again, you will see that younger version of your day staring right back at you.
That man doffed spinning in a cotton mill. That was a job that kept him moving, kept him slender. Having to push a doff box as he used his arms to doff spinning bobbins from that frame, moving from frame to frame through out the night. He was quick and he was good at what he did. He just wanted better. He thought if he could get out of manufacturing, he could provide a better life for us. Sadly though, that move was the beginning of that downward slide.
 You saw the video of the Christmas when you were a toddler, you got a big wheel and this big plastic outdoor play center. You ran over me with the big wheel and then had a blast outside as you would run around, ask for help getting up to the slide and then down and around again. Each time with a "help me" and off you'd go. In the video you can hear your dad's voice, his laughter at your antics. He did love you so very much. The night you were born its a wonder he didn't get arrested he drove so fast getting to the hospital from Charlotte, NASCAR drivers could take lessons from that. When he held you that first time, he was crying, he had a son. He had you.
 He finally quit smoking for you. He tried to go outside and smoke, or out on the back porch, away from you. The smoke though, would cling to his clothing or be sucked back into the house when he opened the door. You kept getting ear infections until I read that article that said that second hand smoke could cause the infections. He went to the doctor, got some kind of medicine to help him fight the cravings and he quit smoking. Put the pack down and walked away. He did however, start eating more. A lot more. Of course that meant the weight gain began in earnest. Add the eating more, to exercising less thanks to the job change and the slide grew worse.
 The extra weight caused him to be diagnosed with a variety of ailments. Diabetes, but that runs in the family so that could have shown up at any time. High blood pressure, high cholesterol, excess water weight was the worst three. He did eat less sweets. I tried to make sure there wasn't a lot in the house when he was home.
 Yes, there was another job change. Where he was working shut down and there he was, a man with no high school diploma and few choices. He tried to get his GED, but he wasn't the best reader and when someone made fun of him for that, he quit. It was the only thing I had ever seen him quit, but he was embarrassed and he couldn't handle that embarrassment. Not even for us. Instead of running the risk of more embarrassment trying to get that piece of paper, he did what he had talked about off and on for years. He signed up to learn to drive a truck. He was determined that he would have a way to provide for us, even if it meant being gone for long stretches.
Between the three of us, he managed to do the training and ace that pre-trip test. The day he graduated he had his first driving job. We helped him get packed, we saw him off, and we waited on the phone calls.
 Over the course of his driving career we faced many challenges together. With him not having a so called smart phone he would call and ask questions, ask for help finding the easiest way to a place, find a place period. He would ask questions about words, wanting to make sure what he wrote was correct. I know it was because he still heard those people laughing and he didn't want anyone thinking him less intelligent. He was out there, he was so far away from home, doing what he could to provide, because he loved us and would do what he had to do to earn a living.
 I know that you're hurting. I saw your face that day we found out. I saw the raw pain, the agony of knowing that he would never come home. I saw the look of understanding that we would never again get into any sort of discussion over directions or addresses or anything related to his job. He would never again be here to tell us the correct way to do things. Never tell me or you that we aren't driving safely.
But of all the nevers son, never... ever... never.. forget, that above nearly all else, he loved you. He loved talking to you. He loved going places with you, spending time with you, hearing you explain things in your way. You are and always will be his son. I know, that he was proud of you, no matter what he said. Even that time you and he nearly came to blows, he never stopped loving you. Remember that, if you forget everything else, remember that he loved and always will love you.

SNAKE!! Those memories of you and snakes, so many close calls..

Hi honey,
 Dad called me last night. I was a bit surprised as it was late, but then I remembered that dad does stay up later than mom. He had something very important to tell me. But then, doesn't he always? I have to give him credit though, this one was worth the late evening call. It seems that he and Michael's son-in-law were out behind the building at dad's and they saw something move in the bush. Dad didn't get a really good look at it, but Jason did. He said it was a huge copperhead. That was what dad was calling about, to warn me to be careful when ever I'm down that way and watch for snakes, all snakes. You know what that means, don't you? Yep, those boots and snake gators that you laughed at me over, will be back in use.
 It brought back some memories, talking to dad about the snake.
Remember that time when we were still living in the mobile home and you went out to feed the dogs and almost stepped on that huge copperhead? I heard you holler all the way inside for me to bring you your gun. A 22 rifle with a bad scope. You couldn't have hit that snake if you'd been right on top of it, with the barrel pressed against its head. I called Michael and he came over with his weaponry. I don't remember the caliber of the gun, but it sounded like a cannon going off. It scared the dogs which both escaped the pen and ran for the woods, I jumped and the snake was in pieces. I went out there in the dark and buried the head. The dogs came back for their dinner and you went in to sit down and calm those nerves. It wasn't long after that we had the power company come out and install that outside light.
 The time that the dogs were raising cane only to find that racing snake on the porch. I tried to simply scare it off the porch and back into the woods only for the thing to go in a hole under the house. Right... under.. our.. bedroom. I didn't sleep well that night.
 The time the snake got onto our back porch. That snake was almost as long as the porch. I was going crazy trying to make sure that thing didn't get into the house. Michael came up and was going to dispatch that one but it came back out the hole it used to get on the porch and fell down behind the steps. It was right after that we had the siding put on the house and all entrances were sealed.
 There was the time you were going around the house and almost stepped on the snake in the high weeds. The windows rattled with that one. This was a harmless black snake but you acted as if it were the deadliest of reptiles. I was going to try and get some photos, but you almost had a breakdown. The snake went on about its way back down into the woods. It probably thought it needed to get away from the insanity that was this place. Your son and I both laughed until we hurt because of your reactions. You weren't all that happy at first but you eventually joined in. If you could have only heard yourself. But then, you did almost step on it, something you weren't expecting. Which is odd in itself being our house sits in the woods.
 You were not happy with me at all last year when I went down to start on the garden and when I pulled back the old plastic I almost stepped on a young blacksnake. The temperatures were still cool enough that it wasn't moving much. I called James and asked him to bring me my cameras without explaining why I wanted them. When he saw the snake he wasn't happy with my plan either. I took over 50 photos just to get a few good ones. The snake wasn't happy and you could tell the more I took, the more agitated it became. I finally listened to James and walked away to let the snake leave in peace.
 I was walking one day and saw something on the fence around the pond. I thought something looked odd, I couldn't tell exactly what it was until I got close and it slid off the fence and into the woods. That was one long snake. I was glad to be wearing my boots and gators. Stylish, no, safer, yes.
 So anyway, when I go down to the garden, or if I go to use dad's garden hose, I'll be careful. Black snakes or other non-poisonous snakes don't really bother me.. the poison ones are an entirely different story. I'm glad too that he warned me, I was digging up and moving all of that dirt to fill up another, yes another, flower bed. I was trying to be careful since I was in the woods, but now I'll be even more so. That and yes, I will this weekend, clean up the back yard. Those leaves from last fall have been on the ground long enough.
I love you honey and miss you..funny how the smallest things bring back the silliest of memories..

Thursday, April 20, 2017

you had me at hello

Dear Husband, I was thinking about you, again. You are constantly on my mind. I wanted to call you so badly today, just call and talk with you. I wanted to have one of those conversations where we simply talked about things in general and nothing in particular, nothing pressing, no bills or where you had to be. Just talk. For some reason, I was thinking about the first time we talked.
I remember that moment clearly. I had gone into the break room for lunch. I had seen you before, but you were always talking with others. This time, we were the only two in the room. I felt you watching me, though I tried to ignore it.  I concentrated on the sandwich in my hands and the mayonnaise that was oozing out around the edges. Still, I felt your eyes on me and I knew, this was different.
You walked over and asked if you could sit down. Break time was short, so our conversation was as well. I don't recall all the words, just the feeling. You were such a handsome man, very interesting and entertaining to talk with. As I rose to return to work, I knew we would talk more. By our next conversation we had planned our first date. It didn't take long for the fact we were seeing each other to get around the manufacturing plant where we worked. It turns out that you had just recently broken up with someone else who worked there. I was concerned but you told me that she had broken it off with you and that I shouldn't be worried. That was difficult though, the looks I got, the comments that I knew were being made. It became an even more difficult place to work. A lot of the people there lived a lifestyle that I did not, that difference made things hard enough, now this. But I thought, no, I felt and knew, this was different and you were special. I also knew that with the other one still working there, and you were now seeing me, you had become the forbidden fruit. Forbidden fruit is always tastier and always a challenge to be had.
 With in four months, we were living together. You had asked me several times, I had told you I would think about it. Then one day, I showed up at your door and meager belongings in hand, moved in. We were living in a mobile home that you had recently purchased. It was small but plenty big enough for the two of us. You had rented a spot in a mobile home park, high on a hill, woods to the back and nosy neighbors all around. We worked hard to make this a home. It wasn't long before I left the work place where we met. They had made ultimatums that I felt were unfair and unwarranted and in fact, an attempt to get me to do things I did not wish and refused to be bullied into. Times were different back then, I found a new job quickly. It was the night shift, but that was okay. The job was not bad, and the pay was much better than I had been making.We worked different shifts and you still worked at the place we had met. I got a call one afternoon, it was a call that was supposedly from someone that you had picked up at a bus station. Funny how I was hearing all of the familiar nosies from the plant in the background. I asked them to call back the next day, when they did I gave them this really long list of names who had called and that theirs was near the bottom but I was sure he would return their call when he got to them. They never called again.
 Your daughter by a previous marriage was an added blessing to our life. She was so much fun, so charming, a sweet smile in a life of adults and parenting. I remember the time we got her this small, yellow kitten. She let it outside to take care of business and it disappeared. She was heartbroken and I was angry. Days later we found it a few trailers down. I stopped the car and asked for our kitten back. The kids that were playing with it, returned it, saying they had found it. I just said thank you as I handed my step-daughter, the girl who is now my daughter of the heart, her kitten back. We knew then that Tiger, would not be allowed outside unless someone was with him the entire time.
 In the course of time, you asked me to marry you. We had been together just a couple of weeks shy of a year. With a joyous yes, we made plans to make a trip down to York, South Carolina and get married. Your daughter, one of your sisters and your nephew went with us. It was a short ceremony but it was official. We were husband and wife and life was wonderful.
 We decided to move the mobile home to an acre of land down on the dirt road where I grew up and my family still lived. We got the land cleared, then made arrangements for the moving. We secured everything we could, we placed fragile items on the floor, we watched as they secured the home and prepared to move. I drove ahead and waited. Professionals that they were, it didn't take them long to have it moved and set up. While we waited on getting a well dug, my brother who lived beside us now, allowed us to hook into his well. The company that was to dig the septic tank would be there soon. Everything, eventually fell into place. My husband, you weren't happy when the company did not listen to you and put the septic tank in the wrong place, but they tried to make it up by extending the drain lines. That first year, there was this amazing growth of daisies growing along the side of our home. We had people come in and clear more of the lot, extending our yard, preparing for out forever life.
 Over the course of time, we had dogs, we had this crazy goat who thought it was a dog and we had a variety of other critters in our life. You had feared living so close to my parents but you soon came to love them as much as I did. They treated you no differently than any other family member.
When we found out that our son was on his way, we were so incredibly happy. Everything changed, my grandfather passed away before our son was born. Mom and dad moved into his house and we bought and moved into this one. We made a home and we made plans for James. Your daughter grown now, at times lived with us, and at times lived with her mom. You could tell she was wanting a place of her own.
When James was born, you were in seventh heaven. You had a son to carry on your name.
I could go on and on, repeating stuff that you already know and remember. All the stuff that happened, all the battles we fought trying to make a good life. Job loss and job changes, James, when you learned how and took that first truck driving job.
I wanted to call you today. I wanted to call and hear your voice. I wanted to talk with you about everything and nothing, about silly things, loving things. I wanted to discuss that vacation you wanted to take this year.
I wanted to let you know, that I love you, and to remind you, that you had me all that long ago, all the way to now and beyond, at hello.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

What good are all of those plans? (with you no longer here)

Lately, when it gets quiet, and I have time to think, I'm reminded. We had so many plans. Our future was going to be special. Our future was going to be filled with all of those things that we hadn't been able to do while working. We had dug such a deep financial hole, and we were trying so hard to climb out that things were set to the side for that future.
To be fair, that hole was brought on by things that we should have handled differently, but didn't. If we had been more careful, more financially stable to begin with, if, if, if...
 The time you lost your job when the place you worked shut down started that downward slide. When you were first starting to drive those big trucks and finding your groove. The low paying jobs a beginning of our attempt to dig our way back out. Then a difference of opinion led you to once again being unemployed. It was at that time I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Not having anything to fall back on as far as savings, had us  back using those credit cards. When you were finally, after weeks of trying, not receiving any unemployment all the while, were able to find another job, we were ecstatic. Even if it did mean you would be gone three weeks at a time. We would work it out, we would adjust. We would start the climb out. I was blessed in that my cancer was caught early and much easier treated. I was able to work the entire time, and work I did, no matter how I felt. We did adjust to your being gone, even though it meant that you missed so much of what was going on here. Plans would be made and then changed. I learned how to do many things on my own.
 You were working as well, but the pay was so low for your being gone so much. You stayed moving, but those checks didn't even cover the bills owed. I was borrowing from Peter to pay Paul and we were getting nowhere fast.
 But we would dream, and dream big. We would reach that magical retirement age and then we would do great and fun things. We would save up and buy a recreational vehicle and see the country.  I would spend many long moments discussing all of the places that I wanted to visit. The places I wanted to see, the ones I wanted to hike, the memories that we would make. They were all wishful thinking then, but it meant that we still thought those future things were possible.
 Then wonder of wonders you got an amazing job. You were still gone for three weeks at a time, but the pay was so very much more. You would be so excited when all of the bills would be paid, without borrowing or shifting or putting off anything. They were paid and there was money left over. We could go out to eat or spend a few dollars on an extra something or other. Our dreams grew stronger in the belief that they really could come true. We were slowly climbing out of that pit of debt and starting to see a bit of daylight. We still were not happy with ourselves and how we had allowed this to happen, but it was a lesson learned and one that we had no intention of repeating.
 You got sick and ended up in the hospital a couple of times, it worried you and made you that much more determined to get all of it paid off. When you were released to return to work you did so with a vengeance. If you had been a character in one of those science fiction movies the comment, "the determination is strong in this one" would have been made often about you.
 Still, even as you fought your health, even as we slowly climbed out of that hole, you dreamed of things to come. You wanted to build that deck out back, you wanted to get a better vehicle for me, you wanted us to be able to travel and see some of, if not all of the places I had mentioned over the years. You wanted new windows in the house, something that you and I had discussed for years. People talk about having a bucket list, our list would fill a dump truck and spill over the top. Thing is, why dream if you can't dream big?
 Then, oh heavens, then, you were discovered deceased in your truck, at a truck stop in Indiana. The truck was parked but it was running. Your last words to me were, "Let me go". Go, you did. You have left this life and moved on to your heavenly home. Those dreams, those hopes, those plans, all of those things we had planned to do, now just a sweet memory.
 My comment to anyone reading this, don't put it off. Don't allow yourself to get so deep in debt that it makes it financially impossible to do some of the things you desire. Don't say, some day. That day, like ours, may never come. Enjoy today. Live life, today. Even if you can't travel across the land, find things in the area where you live. Do things locally, build those memories today. Tomorrow is not promised, all of those plans, will mean nothing, if death comes calling.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Yammering on, a continuing trend

okay, so yes, I have been posting more, and yes, it is mostly about the loss of my husband. It may seem redundant, maybe over kill, or it may be something you have no possible interest in. I apologize but I will probably be doing this for a while. If I don't get it out I'll explode or implode or something. Writing is my therapy, my release, my valve to allow some of the pent up emotions to escape in a controlled release. Its cheaper than a doctor and has fewer side effects than all those prescribed medicines.
 I spend a good bit of time on social media sites. Every post I see from the people my husband once worked with, reminds me of him, but it also allows me to feel closer to what he loved and those he loved doing it with. I enjoy seeing the photos that are shared, seeing the places that he must have seen.  While I had an idea that this is a beautiful land, seeing the photos taken of actual places, mountains topped with snow, lakes, rivers, elk and buffalo, all make me yearn to actually travel and see them for myself. Makes me want to get in the car and take off, driving across this land, wondering if he drove on that same roadway.
  There are times in which it almost feels as if I am riding the roads he once traveled, eaves dropping on conversations that he himself probably had many times over as I read the things that people share. The conversations that they have with each other. All of the times they make sure everyone knows of detours, places that are closed, best places to eat, the list goes on and on. I'll read and I'll smile and I'll sigh a deep sigh as I wish, that just once, I had gone with him on a run.
  This morning a trucking company's commercial was running on a local radio station, letting everyone know that they are hiring. If I'm not mistaken my husband tried to get hired on once by that company. I'm glad that it didn't work out. The one that he was working with when he passed is a really good, family oriented company. He may could have found one making more money, but I doubt there is another one that is so much like a big extended family.
  I never know when something may hurt, like a serrated knife stuck deep into my chest and twisted, or when I can just let something flow over me and pass on by. I do know that even when I seem calm, the emotions just under the skin are a mess. Such as the molten lava just below the surface that bubbles and builds until it has to be released in the form of a volcanic eruption. I work hard to keep it under control and not allow things to bother me, or to show that I've been bothered as the possibility is real that it would only make matters worse. So I take those deep breaths, count to a thousand and walk on. All of this is making me more jumpy and nervous than I usually am. Lets face it, when one jumps because they think they see something out of the corner of their eye, and it turns out only to be the seat belt sliding back into place, you have a problem.
So, I'll write, then I'll write some more. In the middle of all that writing, I hope to find some truths, I hope to share some truths. I hope to make myself feel better and hopefully help someone else feel better-- even just a little-- in the process. I have learned, that I had no idea that you could miss someone as badly as I miss my husband. I had no idea, that his passing would leave such a giant hole in my heart and in my life. I had no idea, but I'm finding out, and I'm learning how to walk all over again.