Some Very Bad News

Ken, my son who lived with me, killed himself the day after Christmas.  I’m still in shock and disbelief.  I’ll write more later..

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Some Days Are Good!

February was a difficult month, physically.  Had some setbacks, saw a lot of professionals in the medical community.   No one knows what is causing my problems, so they don’t deal with it.  In the meantime, I just sort of ‘exist.’   Since I don’t get out, except to keep appointments, my life is rather dull.

I’ve lost a couple more friends.  Each time this happens, I’m filled with fear and dread.  Don’t think I need explain.

The brightness in my life has come from reading and writing.  I’ve joined an eight week writing class on Writers On the Nert called ‘Shadow Writing,’ which is digging deeper to help us get in touch with our authentic selves.  We’re in the sixth week.  I find the classes help motivate me to write.  I haven’t posted here for a while, but if it wasn’t for the class, I wouldn’t have written anything at all.  At least I have produced something for the class.

But the big news is that my last name is once again officially that of my husband of 51 years.  My lawyer called me today.  Now I just need to get a new social security card with my ‘new’ (old) name.  Hooray!  I can’t say how relieved I am.  It’s like coming home.  The other name felt so foreign and uncomfortable.  I can rest easy now.

 

Too Much Bad News

Beulah, one of my closest friends, died unexpectedly Thursday.  I’m still in shock.  Skip, her husband, has been ill for several years and everyone thought he would go before Beulah.  As a matter of fact, he’s been in ICU for over a week.

I don’t have details.  Don’t know if she had a stroke or died of a heart attack or what.  She was home alone.  Her daughter found her.

Beulah was such a lovely, caring, upbeat person.  When she walked into a room, the sun came with her.  She worried about her husband so much and I think she must have neglected herself.  She seemed well and always said she felt fine when I asked how she was.  She was taking meds for hypertension, but all my friends do that, as do I.  We talked about two weeks ago and I’ve been thinking about calling her.  Procrastinating, as usual.  I’ve done that so much, you’d think I’d learn.  I feel such a void in my life.

I talked to Connie, another friend, today.  She’s just been discharged from the hospital where she was being treated for a cluster of clots in her left lung.  She’s on coumadin now.

And Ken, my son, is going tomorrow for a test to determine if he has an aortic anuerysm.

Beulah, bless her heart; I can just imagine, with Skip in the hospital, how she went back and forth to be with him, probably not eating right, getting too much salt, being stressed out because of his illness.  I feel so bad for her.  The world is not the same without her in it.

I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed.  I wish I had a strong faith to get me through.  I’ll work it out.  I always do, but I do have issues with death and loss and being alone.  At my age, loss is inescapable.  Always knocking at my door.

Thank You and Best Wishes

Just want to wish everyone a healthy and happy new year.  May 2013 bring peace and safety to all parts of the world.  Thank you, my blogging friends, for your interest and support in me and my imperfect blog.  I’m amazed by the warmth and caring I’ve found here.  I can’t tell you how I’ve benefited from knowing you.  I hope to have more to give to you in 2013. Love and hugs. XO  Mary

A New Adventure

 

 

 

 

 

 

English: Title page of the first volume of the...
English: Title page of the first volume of the Yale Literary Magazine, published in New Haven, Conn., in 1836, and printed by Herrick & Noyes of New Haven. Image courtesy of the Yale University Manuscripts & Archives Digital Database. Retouched by MarmadukePercy. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

This morning I ordered the 2013 Poet’s Market from Amazon.  I’ve made a promise to myself to send out at least one poem a month.  I haven’t tried to publish in literary magazines or small presses in years.  I hate the business end of it and would rather spend the time creating but it IS nice, once in awhile, to see my poems in print along with other poets.  Also, at this time in my life, sending out the poems gives me a purpose, something to look forward to, whether the poems are published or not.   My life has become so humdrum, so void of freshness or excitement.  This will be an adventure.

 

 

 

 

Not So Pleasant Holidays

Iconic screen shot from the movie It's a Wonde...
Iconic screen shot from the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

“It’s a Wonderful Life” is on the TV tonight.   Scott loved that movie.  He watched it every year.  I’m surprised at how just knowing its on fills me with dread.  It’s been 13 years since Scott killed himself and I still can’t watch his favorite programs, look at his photos, his handwriting, anything that reminds me of him.  He loved  sizzlers, Seinfeld, Star Wars, roast, rice and gravy.

I often wonder what he would look like now, if he’d be married, if he’d have children.  I loved him so much.  I still can’t believe he’s gone.  And I miss him.

I’ll be glad when Christmas is over.  Next, I have to get through his birthday, January 9th.  He’d be 49.  The hurt never goes away.

 

Bad News

I had a cousin just a few months younger than me.  Her name was Terry.  We met 27 years ago when we both were 58.   It’s a long story, but briefly, she lived in Kansas and had been looking for her mother  for years; finally found us in Missouri, but her mother had passed away.  I was thrilled to have her in my life.

She and her husband visited us a couple of times, and my husband and I drove to Kansas to see her.  We talked on the phone and exchanged letters.

She was such a gift; we both lamented the fact that we lived so far from each other.  I felt we had been cheated (she much more than I)  for not knowing each other when we were younger.  My dad’s family all lived close, within walking distance of one another.  If we had known each other then, we would have been playmates, probably best friends.   And then, after finally  meeting, we still couldn’t see each other that often because of the distance, and, later, due to the fact that we both had physical problems that made traveling difficult.

Our contact has been less frequent the past few years, and I’ve been the one to call.  Terry had been quite ill and on medication that left her drowsy, with slurred speech; I did most of the talking.  Not a very rewarding exchange.

I was thinking about her today and realized it had been quite awhile since we talked.  I decided to call her and was looking forward to hearing her voice.   Her husband answered, told me she died last April.    And now I regret that I didn’t call her sooner.

I’ve had that experience before.  I called my best friend after my husband died and learned she had died months before.  You’d think I would have learned by now to live as if today is the only day.  To not let time grow between us.

But time seems to go so fast.  And I think….tomorrow.  Then tomorrow comes, and I let it slide by too  And before I know it, weeks, months have passed.  Nothing in life is so certain that we can take anything for granted.

I’m glad, and grateful, that my cousin and I were able to enjoy each other, if only briefly.   If she hadn’t found us, I would never have known I had a cousin in Kansas.  She enriched my life and she’s a part of me now.

I love you Terry.  Thank you for the gift of you.