Lost and Found

A lost post.... found in my drafts and written a month ago.


I don't know what it is about a quiet day in the back yard, at least my back yard. The sound of the fountain chuckling, the cicada trilling in the trees, and Sarah's incessant chatter only add to feeling that things are how they should be. It isn't a feeling I've been able to hang onto for very long.

The absence of family to fill the yard is a great sorrow. Sarah is the only child who plays here now. Even she feels the emptiness at times, constantly demanding that I "watch" her. Children like an audience, either of their peers or someone they know who likes them. There is little likelihood that this will change. She is five and  will start school on Wednesday. Instead of my family growing it has all but disappeared. There are days when I would almost think I had no children at all. I spend a lot of days wanting to go home but that is no  longer there. They're all dead. Jerry's death left the greatest hole of all, impossible to fill.

I have been contemplating what I should do. More and more I've thought of quitting my job, selling my house  and leaving. I stay the reason we all do, medical insurance. And I have six years before I'll have 20 years  with my employer. I know that the house will be impossible to maintain on my own but the thought of leaving  the last place I was ever happy is painful. I don't want to go but I don't want to stay. There is nothing here but memories and they are marred. There is not much here that makes me happy anymore.

I've been thinking, maybe too much, that the job doesn't matter, the insurance doesn't matter, the house  doesn't matter. Nothing does. It is a depressing thought, yes, but maybe true. I work to live, nothing more and life is no longer much fun. One is forced to reason if that is the case, they why am I doing what I'm doing? I have no answers.

Maybe I'll feel differently after my trip in September. I'm supposed to go to Gatlinburg with my aunt and uncle. I like being around them. They are the youngest 72 year olds I know. They're younger than me, at
least where it counts. We will spend a week at a cabin. There's a hot tub and the RA and fibro will love that. Sitting on a deck looking at the mountains with no one wanting something sounds good.

I keep asking myself if I was ever a positive person. Did I ever do anything but complain and grumble? I'll have to read back over my blog. It goes back to 2005 and surely I haven't always been this much
of a bummer.

Someone ask me how I was this week and I said I'd been having a rough couple of weeks. That's probably an understatement.

Busy Saturday

I spent the morning doing very little. It took a bit to get moving but once I did I went to lunch at my favorite restuarant and on the way home picked up my granddaughter, Sarah and then we went and picked up Uncle Mike. They came home with me and Mike started on the yard while Sarah and I played Old Maid and Go Fish before getting out and helping Mike take care of the yard work.

Thankfully, the day was mild compared to the triple digit temps we've had all summer. I think it might have gotten to the low 80's today but it was beautiful out and not unplesant.

We pulled weeds and got things cleaned up. The yard actually looks more like a yard at this point. Green grass... although it is spotty.

There is a penalty for this. I shall very likely pay it tomorrow. For those new here, I have rhuematoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. My husband died  January 29, 2009 of a massive heartattack around 3 a.m. during the worst ice storm in memory. So, I have good days and bad ones and there is no way to predict what it will tomorrow will be like but with all the weed pulling I'm not expecting it to be good.

After I took Sarah and Mike home I came back, got a hot shower and have sat and watched Midsomer Murders on Netflix. I think that now it is time for me to turn out the lights and attempt to get a good nights sleep. I'm tired.

Blue Skies, Nothing But Blue Skies

What a week! What a WEEK! 

No other words convey my sense inundation. The work simply piled up because the week before I was pulled off to do that stupid accounting audit for the tax id numbers. If you don't know what I'm talking about you'll have to go to my blogger site - A Series of Unforeseen Circumstances, and catch up. I'm too tired to repeat myself. Thus, this week has been harried, hurried, and horrible. (I'd love to hear Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins say that!) 

I've avoided reading as much news as possible. I've not been on FB much except to check in with some folks. And I've not watched much television... I don't actually have television.. I watch stuff online and feed to the t.v. via HDMI. 

My greatest sin is . . . I haven't been writing. But I have a writer's meeting on Monday night at G+ hangout so they'll berate me or bless me. So, you don't have to bother.

My yard needs cutting. Finally, we had a bit of rain and the yard now flourishes. Oddly, there are not as many weeds... I suspect with better weather it could change. At first there were lots of weeds and plenty of dead grass. I went an pulled them all up. So, at the moment there seems to be fewer weeds. They didn't have time to propagate I suppose. I still have this other weed growing.... well like a weed! I learned it is called purslane and is edible. I have enough to feed a large crowd. I've been pulling it here and there because it pulls up rather easily. But there is so much of it I just don't have the back for it. And I found lots of little black bugs living under it.

Incidentally, if you look up "weeds" on Google... you get some interesting hits. No pun intended.

Today I'm in a rather odd place mentally. I don't actually feel horrible today, or even moderately bad. I have for a couple of weeks now. Jerry's birthday was Monday and that, well, I still have trouble with special days. I never seem to get past it. It is frustrating.

I've signed up with a new social community, Blogster, to follow my Multiply friends. Seems several Multiply folks have arrived here already, despite the deadline of Dec. 1. I'm in the process of downloading my videos and photo albums. Those won't go back up on a blog but rather I'm putting my videos on Youtube and my photos in albums on a photo site. Much easier than having to move house every time. It is going to take me a couple of weeks to download 4 years of videos.

I'm rather not sorry to leave Multiply. Since they shifted to a market focus, things kind of dried up blog wise and there haven't been any new and interesting people coming around. My contact list stayed around the same and I like them but I also enjoyed new people stopping by, sometimes to comment, sometimes to just peek and leave, and sometimes to stick around and become a friend. That just stopped. I believe everything happens in its time so it was just time to move along.

I can't figure out what I want to do this weekend. Clean house, write, read, sew, clean house.... I suspect there's a message there. It doesn't appeal to me. 

This took the whole day to write. A little here, a little there and now, I'm home and contemplating dinner... since it is always for one it isn't going to be very interesting. I'm going to post this on blogger and head for the kitchen. I'll be around here somewhere later.

The State of Happiness

Today is Jerry's birthday. He would have been 63. He could have officially retired. He had so looked forward to it. But at 59 he died. I kept breathing.

Since 2009 I've been through a series of physical, emotional, and mental upheavals that defy description but if you truly want to torture yourself, it's all here in the blog. I lived in a nightmare hell the first year and can't remember huge amounts of time from that year. The second year, I woke up and realized it wasn't a a nightmare at all, it was just hell. The third year I though I was going to be able to crawl out and maybe, just maybe I'd be able to live among other living beings only to fall back into the pit. I am approaching the 4th anniversary and I've begun to question if life after death is even possible. Not my death. His. Is it even possible to push back the darkness and be, if not happy, content?

I've sought to involve myself with people and things and stay busy but honestly, I live in a vacuum where the only time I see or hear from most people in a 50 mile radius is when someone else has a need. Never when I have one. I try to be obliging but the results is I end up running short of energy, time, money, and reciprocation of such. Nearly 4 years later, I still am sitting in my house, alone, in silence and listening to echos. I have no more outside contact that I did the day the last person left after the funeral and the last calls came in. It shocked me to my core then. I don't shock so easily now.

These days, I don't actually think it is possible to be happy.  The people I know personally are miserable. The problem, as near as I can figure, is our concept of happiness is distorted. People seem to think happiness is doing something we enjoy, all the time. Happiness is being in a crowded room with lots of people we like and who like us and having fun, all the time.  Happiness is having the money to buy all we want, all the time.  Happiness is having security, jobs, friends, things. Happiness is stuff. All the time.

You think, when you don't have things, that getting them will fix it. You'll be happy for sure then. I'll get a new house, go to a new school, a new church, move to a new town, meet new people, get a new job. Right. It won't work.

I've got stuff. I'm not happy.

Let me tell you what unhappiness is and maybe that will explain it better. Living without the person who knew everything about me, right down to my birthmark is the most difficult thing I've ever been forced to do. I once said it felt as if I'd had my arm cut off. I was wrong. It is more like having a leg removed at the hip. And they don't sell a prosthetic for it. Someone said "Think about the good times." I don't dare. I can't reclaim them. I can't relive them. And I can't make new ones. I shatter in a billion tiny pieces and have to pick them up. They are made of obsidian glass and flay me.

In all the 35 years of marriage, I distinctly remember being terribly unhappy on many occasions, times when he displeased me and when I displeased him. Of course, we got past them but there were some times that neither of us really got over. We were human after all. We weren't happy all the time and as he grew sicker, we both grew less so. For years, I was so stubborn and demanding. He seldom said no to me and I was cared for and cherished. Right up to the night he dropped dead.

But you know something, right now, this very minute, I would do everything he asked me if he'd just come home and complain about something. I'd be happy! I'd be ecstatic if he stepped into the room and griped about something trivial. If he left the towel wadded on the seat of the toilet, his shorts in the floor, his shoes in the middle of the living room. I would be overjoyed. If he left dirty dishes on the counter.... I'd wash them with a smile. He had a hard time keeping a job the last few years and I didn't know why. He was sick. But today, if he was unemployed and broke and simply wanted to complain about it, I would so listen and put my arms around him and say, "I'm here. We're in this together. It looks bad but we have one another."

The truth is that there is no feeling like being loved, cared for, and made to feel you are the Queen of the Universe or the King. Realistically, it isn't always like that. But knowing it is always there, why, you can live in a hovel and never notice. I've lived in a few! There is nothing that can take the place of looking across the room when you're worried and having someone smile at you. Or lying in the dark staring at the ceiling and having someone squeeze your hand. They don't have to speak. You just know that they just sent you a message. I'm here. We're in this together. It looks bad but we have one another.

Nothing else in the world feels like that.

Jerry, I'd be happy to see you're face smile across the room.

Cluck, Cluck, Cluck

I'm finding the whole Chick-fil-a thing amusing. Yes, really. It is proving that gays are not open minded, beneficent, kind and gentle, non-judgmental people. They are prejudiced.

I mean look at it. It is a bad thing, a crime in fact, to bash gays for their beliefs but it is not a crime to bash Christians for their's. It is a crime to ban gays from any place they want to go but it is ok to attempt to ban a business from operating because the owner doesn't believe in gay marriage and solely for that alone. Not because he had done some heinous act but just because he disagrees with a single group of people who claim everyone is equal!  Never mind that gays are not barred from the business as customers nor as employees if some of the reports are true. So, that is pure prejudice. Hatred for another person or group because of what they believe, how they dress, how the act... prejudice. Wow.

I always wonder if these kind of things ever happened anywhere else because it is just ludicrous. Only when I thought about it it wasn't funny at all. The only similar thing in history I can compare the Chick-fil-a farce to is the Nazi party's reaction to Jewish businesses in the early days before WWII. They burned Jewish owned businesses solely because they were Jewish owned businesses. Some of them had German employees. America should take careful note of this fact alone.

I also noted something else. How stupid is it, in an economy where there ARE NO JOBS, to attempt to close down a very large corporation because someone disagrees with your beliefs? Smacks of prejudice. Never mind that they sell a good product. Never mind they employ thousands. Shut them down because they don't believe the way I believe! How totally and utterly stupid. "Either you will believe what I say or you have no right to run a business." Excuse me?

Today, an elderly lady stopped by my office. She held up her Chick-fil-a bag and grinned at me. "The line was around the building." She laughed. "They forgot that Christians eat."

It stopped me in my tracks. That's true! And we shop a lot of places. We buy clothes. We buy cars. We buy houses, food, and eat in restaurants. We spend lots of money even in businesses that support things we don't agree with and we don't stand on a street corner and whine about it. We shop and go home. We don't even ask what the owner believes or thinks about anything. We order, eat, and go home. 

Yes, yes, there are fringe groups that do whine and make a ruckus and cause offense. We can't stand them either. However, the majority of us don't. Unfortunately, we aren't the ones who sell papers and news spots. The majority of us don't care who's selling that hamburger or pair of shoes. We may not agree with their politics, their religion, their sexual preferences or their hair color...IF we even know it. We just want the shoes. No, really, we don't care. We simply go about our business. But we pray, daily, for the world to change. 

And  we do more than that. We reach out when someone is in need. We feed those who are hungry through soup kitchens and donations to organization that feed the hungry. We don't care who eats the food as long as they have a need. We shelter those who are cold or wet by providing shelters and donations to those who do. We don't care who needs the shelter as long as there is a need. We give aid to the hurting. We do it without requiring anyone convert to our faith or that they repay the help. We do this because we are Christians. 

We live our beliefs. And that is what is so offensive. The fact that no matter how the mob roars we can't be changed. We won't let go despite the pressures brought to bear. We didn't come into the world as Christians. We made a choice to follow Christ, to be Christians. 

Whether Chick-fil-a closes its doors or not will NOT change us. We'll  keep spending OUR money where we want. We will keep buying things we want, where we want, regardless of who stands behind the counter or sits in the corporate office. We'll keep believing what we believe because it is our right to do so, just as it is yours. And you probably won't see us forming mobs, marching in parades and ranting to close your gay bars and nightclubs down or banning them from operating in our cities. We won't approve of them, ever. We understand that you have a right to operate a business, however offensive it is to us. We have the right to disagree with your beliefs just as you do with ours.

No. Your methods are not our style. Instead, we pray for you. 

We just won't buy your chicken.