Songs in My Heart

 I'm not feeling well today. I hurt all over, that wonderful steamroller sensation one gets when you lie down in the road in front of one. I lay down earlier before getting a showerand examined all my pains. They are as follows:

The bottom of my feet, ankles, knees, hips, the palms of my hands, elbows, my left upper arm and shoulder (PT yesterday was extremely rough). The swollen lymph node beneath my left arm hurts and my neck skin hurts. I also have a mild headache.

My sister, Roselynn, asked if I had a fever because my face is very red. I don't run fevers but I am hot after my shower. 

While we sat and chatted, I had a memory. I do not know why, but I remembered a song my Mama used to sing. I can still hear the tune but could find no trace of it online. There are other versions, but they're not at all the same.

A Psalm of Life

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

   Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

   And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

   And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

   Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

   Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

   Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

   And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

   Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world’s broad field of battle,

   In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

   Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!

   Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,— act in the living Present!

   Heart within, and God o’erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

   We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

   Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

   Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

   Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

   With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

   Learn to labor and to wait.

Imagine my surprise as a teenager when I picked up a book of Longfellow's poems and found that poem in it! He became my favorite American poet, and I found many poems in the book I loved. I read a lot of classic poems as a teenager and it continued as an adult.

Mama also knew the following poem. See, in the period she grew up, education meant learning a variety of things and the educated person knew poems and pieces of classic literature, even little country girls. The following poem is one I always loved, and I too memorized it. However, today, when trying to recite it, I found I'd forgotten most of it. Mama never forgot a word of either of them. 

The Arrow and the Song

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

I don't think poems today have such sentiments. People don't think of life as anything but a party until the music stops. And they don't go looking for songs in the hearts of friends.  

I Live for Excitement! Not.

  So, I wasn't feeling very well and decided it was time to take a shower, wash my hair, and just go to bed. That was my intention when I got in the shower. 

Things did not go as planned.

I have a nice standing rack in the back corner of my shower that holds soaps, shampoos, conditioners, back scrubbers, and I keep clothes pins to clip wash cloths on to prevent mildew and to dry after you shower. I suspect I've had this rack for 20+ yrs. It's been a convenient thing to have. 

Right until it collapsed, the pole snapping in half into the shower. All the things just tumbled around me and I'm holding this pole yelling, "Help! Help! Help!" 

I live alone, y'all. Well, with three cats, but they were nowhere to be seen. Any other time, Jet would be holding my hand. Not this time. Nope. I'm standing in the shower, the way I came into the world, holding the shower caddy with a broken pole, surrounded by various bath accessories, screaming for help. I love living dangerously. 

Eventually, I realized no one was coming, thankfully, and took a breath. I assessed the situation and realize the rational thing to do was get rid of the broken rack without getting cut on the rusted pole. It now lies on the bathroom floor. I rinsed my hair and got out of the shower. After I dried off and wrapped the wet hair, I cleaned up all the bottles, brushes, tossed things that were not good, and then I dressed. Well, there was no sense messing up my clothes. 

With an annoyed backward glance, I left the broken caddy on the bathroom floor till morning. Our encounter was traumatizing enough. I wasn't dealing with relocation tonight. 

End of the Line

It has been a long and strange journey on this blog. I seem to have lost the impetus to keep it going and I'm a bit sorry about it. I used to enjoy posting about the people and events in my life. I do post on my writing blog and sometimes on Rendered Praise but even that one has languished a bit and both are different. I'm not sure anymore what I want to do... or say.

My world has never recovered since Jerry died, not really. I mean, I've gone on with my life, such as it is. I'm still here. No, I haven't met someone. You actually have to see people for that to happen. I've stayed here in my home, raising my granddaughter. I retired, as you'll remember if you've read along. I thought I'd be able to write more. I got sick, and sicker, and sicker until I despaired of even living at times. How do you function when you're in so much pain all the time and you feel like you're on the wrong train?

You just keep going.

The truth is, I've never been able to right the upside-down world I was thrown into. There was just nothing normal about my life anymore. Nothing made any sense at all. More and more I found myself not wanting to write. Not wanting to do the things I used to do. I don't want to cook but I have an 11 yr old who has to eat. You'd think I'd lose weight but no, I gain it! I'm too tired or too sick to go out and exercise. Or it is so freaking cold or wet that it is impossible. Even the back surgery I had to repair the ruptured disk, although it made some things tremendously better, has not really made much difference in what I do.

I feel like a door is closing and maybe it is. This is probably the last post here I'll do. Maybe it is because I've just been sick for months with colds and I'm still sick with one, milder though it is. I really don't know. My immune system is very low now.

I just know that I don't have anything left to say. The interesting things, at least to me, have declined to the point that there is nothing I really enjoy doing. There are no family stories to relate because there is no family left. There are no work tales to tell because I can't work anymore. There are no exciting people or places or things to tell you about. There are plenty of annoyances, frustrations, and sadnesses but who wants to share that? And who wants to read it.

You'll say this is depression. Maybe it is a mild one. I don't even want to try and figure it out.  What I do want to say is thank you. If you've been with me on this convoluted journey, lived thru the nightmare of death, and laughed at my kids, thank you. I don't know why you did it. But I'm glad you did. You remained silent but if you stuck with me, thanks.

As of now, the blog will remain open. I get comments in my email, not that anyone ever does other than one or two here and there. But if you stop by, shoot me a comment to let me know. Will I come back? I don't know. I'm giving myself permission to give up several things this year. I have too many chains weighing me down and the need to shake them off won't leave me alone. I may if there is something good to say. Today, I can't think of one thing.

So I pray you are blessed and I hope I've given you enjoyment with my crazy Life on the Ledge.

Be happy. Be kind. In the end, that's what will count.

Day 1 Without Facebook

 I got up this morning with Pain. He is so supportive. I couldn't find a better man than Pain. He wakes me up and he stays with me all day, holding my hands, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, and neck, and even rubbing my feet now and then. I feel him running his hands up and down my spine even now.

To be fair, this morning he was a little inattentive. He hung around only about an hour and now, he just wants to  hold my hands. I told him I have things to do and he seems to have backed off a bit, but I see him over in the corner just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

Yes, my Pain is faithful and I can count on him being there every moment of my day. We read together, crochet together, write together. He's really pushy when we do yard work. Jumps right in. There is nothing he won't do with me. I can't remember life without him.

I've had my coffee and actually worked on some laundry. I'm up later than usual. Sarah is still at her other grandparents and I slept in. I have done that for a couple of days. With Sarah off from school, it is easier to fall into that habit. 

Today is my first day staying away from Facebook. I elected to take June off and not log on, check messages, or post other than blog posts that go up. I don't have to go to Facebook to post those. I suspect no one will really notice. I get a few blog readers here and there. 

To be honest, my instinct was to sit down with my coffee and check my mail as usual. Then, I usually go onto FB and surf the stream and check the group page, maybe play a game. When I first got on FB, that was it. After Jerry died, things changed.

I read a lot of the articles. Much of them are news related, oddities, anything science. That sort of thing. The problem lies in after that. I get caught up in some of the memes, and although I only play one gave on FB, there are those quizzes, which are really just games. So, I end up with hours a day on Facebook and nothing to show for it. 

Since Jerry died, I don't really hear from anyone anymore outside of Evansville except my aunt and uncle. I might get a family call every few months from one person. But I have a very large family. So, I told myself it was so I could keep in touch with my family. When I began to loose so much time "staying in touch" I realized how stupid that is. 

Why would it be necessary to spend time on Facebook wading through hundreds of posts about nothing to hear from people who could just as easily pick up the phone and talk to you for five minutes? Or who could try and visit you once in a while? 

Why would any family think that posting about their trip to Wal-mart was "staying in touch"? Posting "I'm at McDonald's" is not sharing yourself with people who love you. Telling the world you're at Starbucks having a latte is not relating to anyone. It does pretty much tell us you're silly extravagant but its your money.

That's not friendship. That's not love. That's not a relationship. 

Someone posted an article by a  young woman who withdrew from Facebook. She explained how it was robbing her of a relationship with God. She was so young, newly  married. And she woke up. And she woke me up. I realized that I have no desire to live my life checking my phone to get the latest on FB. It is why I don't use that app. I'm not living in Facebook. 

Here I was sitting, doing nothing, waiting for a piece of someone's life to be "shared" with me. For hours, days, weeks, months, years. I was foregoing life. I didn't go anywhere. I stopped calling folks. I stopped reading much. I wasn't getting any writing done. I wasn't praying enough. I wasn't reading my Bible enough. Real life was slowing, coming to a screeching halt. For Facebook. No, thank you. 

I love my family. I  have some new family members I've gotten closer to because I could text to them and interact with them on Facebook. It is totally unsatisfying. I have some new nephews I so wish I could meet and hold and love. They look so adorable.

Facebook doesn't build family relationships. They do not know me. May never know me. Other than a photo on Facebook. There will be no real sadness if some of us dies. We don't know each other.  I miss being so far from family and never seeing or hearing from them. I had a great family. We used to plan get-togethers and arrange reunions. 

That is not who I am. That is not who I want to be. It is time to focus on real people rather than photos online.

It was hard for about 30 minutes this morning to not get my fix. I suspect I'll have moments when I want to see photos, read about someone's happiness, and "talk" to someone. But I used to do that every day of my life without Facebook. 

I truly love the connections I have there. I've met lots of new people who I wouldn't expect to be involved in their every moment under normal circumstances. I like reading some of the things that happen in their lives. I like sharing things with them. I like seeing the photos. If I could travel where they are I am certain we could have lunch together.

But at the end of the day, Facebook is just a newspaper. It is not relationships. A smiley face isn't human. There is something about a smiling human face that gives such comfort. There is something about real hugs that soothe the soul. There is something about hearing "I love you" rather than a heart symbol, that makes life much more bearable. 

Where is life? I have a group of great friends I get to see about twice a month. I have a couple of family members I see regularly. When we're together we have the best time laughing and talking and sometimes we go places together. I get to sit across the table and listen to the writers carry on and do you know that is just the best feeling. Listening to other people laugh is so amazingly relaxing. I watch Sarah running in the yard and it is unleashed joy and hearing her giggle is like wine. 

Will I go back to Facebook at the end of the month? Will I be so socially deprived that I have to log back into a false life? I hope not. 

I hope that there will be more read books, completely written stories, good times with my girl pals and writers' group and giggles with Sarah. NaNoWriMo is coming and I'll have time to plan better. The yard needs things done and Pain and I will be able to get out there a bit. I can start walking regularly and more. I can reestablish uninterrupted devotional time.

Life is waiting, but it won't wait forever. I hope that by the end of June, real life will have reasserted itself and filled the vacancies.

Rememberance

It was a beautiful day outside today. I got up this morning, pain in my neck, and headed out to the hospital lab to get blood work done for my primary care doctor. I decided that since my rheumatologist has standing orders for me to have blood test every 4 weeks I thought it was a good idea to kill two birds with one stone and combined the draw for both doctors. Only one stick.

After I left the vampires behind, I headed back home, changed my shoes and went to the cemetery to walk. I was surprised. I've been walking at there for almost a year now, off and on. It is just a beautiful place but I rarely see anyone about, even the cleaning crews. It is part of the reason I like walking there.

Today was different. The place seemed to be crawling with people and cars. They were coming and going and I had to get off the road a couple of times to allow two cars to pass. Most were old people, some on walkers, and some were probably middle age, and there were a couple of young mothers with children. Everyone had flowers and I noticed that flowers were more prevalent all over the cemetery. I found myself feeling a bit put out by all the coming and going but comforted by the fact someone remembered.

America is not a culture of death. Quite the contrary, we exhibit life with all the stops pulled out, never thinking about tomorrow, never looking back. We're a country focused on, as one beer company used to put it, "all the gusto you can get." We live for and in the moment, at break-neck speed. It is why drugs are so popular. When this feverish existence seems to slow down, because life actually runs at a much slower pace than we force it to, we are faced with normalcy and the drugs speed things up again. When you're moving so fast, reality is a blur you can ignore.

So, cemeteries are places we go when we die, to be forgotten. It is where life stops. If you don't believe me, ask anyone if they visit the cemeteries for any reason and how often. You may even get a few pulled faces and comments about morbidity and creepiness. But if you ask the same folks if they want to be forgotten, they will tell you they don't. In fact, I think most of us don't believe we will be forgotten. 

As I walked today, around each curve someone was getting out of a car, bending over a grave, placing flowers, or leaving a grave site. It was moving in an odd way. Of course, you know me, always find the flaw in the pattern, I realized that my home is not here. I have no extended family here but a granddaughter, son and a sister, none of whom I believe will remain here when I am gone, if they outlive me. My granddaughter, especially will likely go off to college, meet a Prince Charming and move somewhere else. I'm not likely to see that. And I will lie here in this cemetery, forgotten. No one will lay flowers or stare at my name carved in the stone and remember me.

This has bothered me a lot since Jerry died. As I said, no one wants to be forgotten. One of my greatest sorrows has always been that my Mama lies in a cemetery so far away I can't visit her grave and place flowers on it. I know that they're not "there" but this desire to leave mementos on graves is as old as humanity. It is inherent in us. Archaeologist repeatedly find sites of ancient burials with the remains of flowers and other mementos that were left by the living. Maybe some people do not have this inclination but it is so prevalent around the world that I wonder what is wrong with those who don't. What has happened to change us? 

It used to be even more common for people to visit cemeteries than it is today. Latin American countries have Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) where whole families have veritable picnics in cemeteries to pay homage to their dead and celebrate their life. Asia and Africa have many special ceremonies to honor their dead.  While these may seem extreme or weird to us, I don't find the intent odd at all. 

I rounded the last curve in my walk and the VA section came into view. I saw all those flags waving in the breeze. I saw the flowers I  placed on Jerry's grave and flowers other's had placed on their loved one's grave. I walked over to Jerry's and adjusted it. I read the name carved in the stone. I looked at the rows of graves of those who served this country, some sacrificing their life for it. More than a hundred small flags fluttered in the breeze and there were more on other Veteran graves in other parts of the cemetery. Monday there will be a memorial service here and the names of all the veterans who died in the last 12 months will be read aloud. There will be a 21 gun salute fired and a benediction given. For this weekend, at least, they are remembered. 

For those of you who are still with us who served and those who still serve, you are a special breed and you have my eternal thanks for your service to this nation. 

Purple Passions, Dark Days, & Frozen Time

The new year did not get off to an auspicious start. My mother died and I spent the second day of it on the road, the third day at a funeral, and the fourth day on the road. My weekend sucked. I went back to work on Monday to be greeted by two weeks backup. It has taken two weeks see any progress at all. We've had snow, cold, rain, warmth, rain, and more cold. Most days are gloomy, at least it seems so to me. Today is no exception.

I looked for some profoundly moving topic to write about or perhaps, hysterically amusing. I have neither. I have a rather boring life that doesn't require I do much but get up and cope with the most recent disasters, which usually entail my keeping a grip on my anger, frustration, annoyance, depression, or elation. I usually end up holding an empty bag. I suppose if you look closely I'm a bit manic at times.

I went back and read some old posts. Really old. Like 2006. I sounded so young. Life sounded much simpler in some way that I can't pin down. The foolish stuff I blogged about so trivial and foolish I wonder if anyone ever even read beyond the first paragraph and I almost hope they didn't.

Then, I read posts from 2009 and realized that my life can't ever be simple again. I can't jump back to the years before January 29, 2009 and instead choosing to live here, pick another city so things will turn out differently for all of us. That it will all have been a nightmare.

I absolutely despise the month of January. As my mother always said, "I hate it with a purple passion." January 11, last Friday, was my wedding anniversary. It was a painful day. And I know at the 29th grows closer every day will become heavier and darker. On that day, Jerry will have been gone four years. It seems as if it were only yesterday that I watched him die and had to bury him in the snow and ice. Some things are just frozen in time.

Rainy Day Monday

Labor Day. I'm ready to go to the church Labor Day Picnic. I have to pick up Sarah and Mike. No one else is going. If Sarah wasn't going, I'd stay home and do some much needed house work. It is, after all, labor day.

I've been going from room to room hunting things and finding that the problem is there is still too much STUFF! I want some space and order and I don't seem able to get there. Things still find their way into rooms and stay for no apparent reason. I need to find a place to start, and just do it. I did that a couple of years ago and tossed a lot of junk but this time, I seem to be stalled.

It is like some sort of transition step you take in the grief process, I guess. That one step is just a bit too high for me to reach. Sigh.

I've been experiencing that overwhelming hollowness again. The holidays are approaching but I hesitate to blame them. I  haven't even thought of Thanksgiving and Christmas. . . well, not much. I've been thinking about NaNoWriMo. I've been thinking about my son's impending divorce. I've been thinking about how much pain I've been having again. I've been thinking about how upsetting it is to be in chaos alone. Sigh.

All right, too much thinking.

I'm thinking about changing the name of my blog. I have done that one time and I've never been terribly happy with it. Boring.  But last night when I was downloading the missing blogs from the quickly dying Multiply I ran across one that is a snapshot of my life every single day. The title of that post was brilliant and I don't know why I didn't see it before. Well. . . I only write them once and move on so that could be why. Even the content of the post was such a snapshot of what I live that it was laughable. It isn't on this blog yet. I'll post it eventually. The name change you'll see probably sooner.

Maybe even today.

Transitions

I've had a strange month, I think. It is one of those times when life seems to be transitioning in some intangible way. As the word implies, I can't put my finger on it. I've had a lot more pain lately and I have been more tired than I was for a while. Frankly, I think the pain is the reason I tired easily. It wears on you.


No, this is something else. Something akin to  waking up in the morning and not knowing for a minute where you are or what time it is. I'm restless but not so much in a bad way. No, it is just annoying because it is so vague. For me, as a writer, it is even more frustrating because I can't put a name to it.


So I go with the flow and I keep looking for whatever it is.


I'm thinking I need to get away for a bit. I keep making plans that fall through just when I think they'll work this time. I've actually thought of calling a travel agent to see if it will help me. I have never had a situation where I could not plan a trip. Never. Military wives have to be ready to up and move whenever. You usually get a couple of months of warning but you have to be ready to relocate a whole house of items, children, yourself and your spouse, find a new house, arrange utilities, contact schools, and get everything put away as quickly as possible. You have to be organized. Life ceased to be organized for me three years ago. 


I've made attempts to restructure and reorganize things with some success but there are still places in my life where chaos reigns. Getting things done at home is one. I still have the gas company coming on Wednesday sometime to change out the meter. If I haven't explained that here, I won't go into it but let's say it has been a real pain. 


Vacations are probably the biggest issue for me. I always loved it when we could get away for a bit and do something fun. I still want that but it isn't much fun and planning it is nearly beyond me. That makes no sense at all to me. I've moved hundreds of times. Yes, really. I've done two overseas moves, and five interstate moves. That is not counting all the moves within the cities where I lived. Planning a two week vacation should not be an obstacle. Planning a one week vacation shouldn't either. But it is so hard.


My plan last year to go to England was crushed by an auto accident. Financially, I'm still a bit strapped but I was going to take the plunge this year. Then they started going on about the layoffs. My inclination was go anyway. It still is. But my logical, prudent side says wait to see who is gets laid off. It makes sense. If it isn't me I'll have a better financial standing. If it is, well, I'm going to need all the extra cash I can get. So, that plan is on hold for a bit. Not eliminated, just on hold. I figure things happen in their time.


However, I can't keep going without a break. I need a vacation. I need a week in the sun where it is warm and the air smells of salt. So, my plan is to take a week but I really would like to know where I stand job wise before I do that. All this requires patience and that is the one virtue that I've been eternally short of. 


Other things are changing as well. I'm excited by some changes. Such as the group of girls I've met through NaNo who have become writing buddies. We've been meeting online as a group to talk writing. We've done this twice using the G+ Hangout feature. It was really great to "meet" these women and to talk about something I love. As my other writing group is going through some changes and becoming less focused on writing, I am finding the online group a welcome addition. 


The obvious transitions are challenging but it is still this underlying feeling of things changing and morphing into something I don't recognize where I seem to be having the the most difficulty. I get impatient with it but it isn't something I can rush. I'll just have to wait and see.