One breath at a time ........

P.S. ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 17 Nov 2013 04:52:00 +0000

...... I've also started a new blog ...... elsewhere.
Let me know if you'd like to see it.
You don't have to be widowed for that one. : )
BUT .... You do have to send my your e-mail address. I can't hook you up through a comment, so send an email to the address up in the first paragraph.

Thanks.
So very much.
:)

It Is Time ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 02 Nov 2013 03:54:00 +0000

...... for me to write this post.
A post that I think will be my last post here.
Which, of course, is most likely no surprise to anyone.

At first I decided to delete this blog. It was easier to not write if there was nothing upon which to write.
Right?
(Ha! Get it? Write/Right? It's not funny if I have to explain it.)

And so that's what I did.
And it stayed deleted for about 2 weeks.

But then I had a change of heart, I guess. I decided to put it back on line, in case there are other widowed people out there who might feel a little less crazy or abnormal by reading what I experienced. Maybe one of you will one day need these words. I hope not. Really.
But I don't have to tell you what the odds are.
So I won't.

I felt that I needed to say "Goodbye", but just didn't want to do that.
So I've written nothing for a while.
But now ...... it's time.

I have written as honestly as I could over the past almost-6 years.
It wasn't always pretty. In fact it was rarely pretty. Or hopeful.
Or easy to read.
So thank you to those of you who've stuck with me.
Thank you, especially to those of you I've met through this blog.
And to those I've never met in person, but who have been here for me none the less.
T.A.N.W.

This was the one place where I was able to unleash every emotion, every feeling, every thought that grief brought. I never censored myself when it came to those ...... for good or for bad.
I gained friends because of this blog.
I lost friends because of this blog.
It was what it was.
I grieved the way I grieved.
If I had to do it over again, I would grieve the same way.
Not because I wanted to, but because I had no choice.
That's the thing that some people couldn't understand, couldn't deal with.
I never had a choice.

This is one of the many, many "clubs" out there that no one wants to join.
One minute you're barely aware of its existence ...... the next minute you're a full-fledged member.
No matter how much kicking and screaming you do.
No matter how much you can't believe it, or accept it.

No one asks your permission to change your life.
No one warns you.
No one prepares you for the ripping apart of your world ...... of your heart.
It is what it is.
And it does what it does.

Do I wish I could've done some things differently?
Hell yes.
Who wouldn't?
But then ...... who in the world, widowed or not, can say that they've never thought that at least once in their life?
If they do, they're lying.

But wishing doesn't make things happen.
And it doesn't change things.
It just kills time.

I loved Jim hard.
As hard as I could.
And I have grieved him hard.
So.
Very.
Hard.

My grief isn't gone. Like that could ever happen.
But it's not so hard.
Once in a while it's difficult, but I've been through difficult.
And it's better than hard.

There are two main reasons that I think I'm done here.
First, and foremost ...... I don't feel as if I have anything left to say.
The emotions have come forth.
And have been laid out.
In all of their ugliness and gut-wrenching pain.

Thankfully, getting them out of me and placing them here ...... slowly made room for other feelings to take root.
Like hope.
And contentment.
And joy.
Happiness has worked its way back, too ...... albeit a different-feeling happiness.
It is what it is.
I'm just glad that it is.

The second reason that I feel done is this:
I'm tired of it.
I'm tired of putting it all out there.
I'm tired of people reading this blog, and then feeling like they're all "caught up" with me and my life, so they unconsciously assume that I'm all "caught up" with them.
Which means I don't hear from them.
I rarely hear from most of the people who were in my life "before".
I can't blame that all on this blog.
But it's definitely been a factor.
It is ...... what it is.
I'm just grateful for how much they were there in the beginning.
More grateful than words can articulate.
And I will be forever grateful.

My life is different now.
Different than "before".
Different than I ever expected, hoped, imagined.
Different than I feared.
Different in a few negative ways ...... but different in many good ways.

You all know that I'd trade everything, and everyone, to have him back.
But that's not a choice.
Yet acceptance is.
So is moving forward.
And choosing joy.

God has been good.
His plan is different than mine.
I haven't always agreed with Him.
And I will never understand Him.
Well, never here anyway.
And I will never, ever think that this path was a good idea.
But it is what it is.
And it was what it was.
I'm just thankful that He has used me to touch others ...... to make some feel less alone.

Maybe I'll come back here one day.
Maybe I'll decide to start another blog.
A different blog.
Who knows?
I certainly don't.
That much I've learned.

But for now ...... no matter how bittersweet this feels, no matter how much I loathe saying "Goodbye" ...... it is time.

I will miss you.
Very, very much.
T.
A.
N.
W.

Goodbye, Peeps.
And happy ...... everything.
: )

I've Decided ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 21 Oct 2013 03:24:00 +0000

...... to not decide.

Yes, I found houses in Tulsa that I liked. A lot.
But I just don't feel ready to pull the trigger.

What I do feel ready to do is get back to NY.
At least that's something.
: )

So an interesting thing happened on the way to Tulsa.
I left my bag of medications on the plane.
Unbeknownst to me.

The next morning I couldn't find the bag and called a friend.
She went to my house to see if I had left it at home.
I had not.

I wondered if I could've lost it on the plane, so on a whim I decided to call my home phone and check my messages.
And indeed, someone had found it.
An employee of the airline, which I shall not name, (but it used to be called Continental) found it after the plane had returned to Houston. He, being a decent guy, called the number on my reservation. He left a message saying that he had found it and asked if I wanted him to put it back on the plane, as it was headed back to Tulsa.
I didn't get the message in time to make that happen.

So I called that number the next morning, after I listened to the message. I asked for "Randy".
I was told he was working in another area. I explained what had happened and asked about my bag.
I was told that they don't normally do things like that and that my bag wasn't there. I repeated that "Randy" had called me, and that he had been in possession of it. I was told that he was only being "a good guy" and that the bag was now in "lost in found" and would be in "lost baggage" by that evening. I was then told to go on line and file a claim and then wait to be contacted.
So I did.
That was Wednesday.
The 16th.

Yesterday, Saturday, the 19th, after hearing nothing, I called this airline's "lost luggage" department. After being on hold for a while, I was told that there was no record of the bag. Or of my claim.
I patiently explained the situation.
The employee I was talking to didn't give one red cent about this problem. Or that another employee had once had my medications. He said that that was not their policy.
I said that I not only have "Randy's" name and number, but I still have the message.
I then said that if, after 4 days, my bag had not been turned into "lost baggage", I could only assume that it had been stolen.
He kept repeating that I needed to just wait another 10-14 days to see if it shows up.

I asked to speak to someone at the actual Houston airport, in the actual "lost baggage" department.
He told me that wouldn't help. I repeated the question and he said no, it would be a waste of time. I need to file another claim and wait 10-14 days.
He.
Was.
Infuriating.

I ended up telling him that I realized this was not his fault, or his problem, but that he had been very unhelpful and that someone will have to look into a possible problem of theft at his workplace.
And then I hung up.
And sent an email to customer service, which is all I could do.

After I flew into Houston tonight I checked with the lady at "lost baggage". I told her the story and she was most concerned and very helpful.
But the bag wasn't there.
She admitted that it was likely that someone had taken the bag, and said that she was sorry. She asked if my pharmacy would re-fill the meds.
I told her that I hope so.

So, that's been fun.
: )

Homecoming was great, as usual. We were able to meet up with friends that we hadn't since in years. And I mean YEARS.
We also took a tour through our sorority house to see all the changes that have been made over the YEARS.
The girls who live there smiled at us the exact same way we used to smile at alums who came by ......
kind of like, "Oh, aren't they cute? Those old women who used to live here back in the dark ages. Can you even imagine being that OLD?! Ugh!"
Yeah.
What goes around, comes around, girls.
In the blink of an eye.

It was 39 degrees and raining off and on as we walked all over campus, checking out all of the house decorations and running into old friends.
But it was still fun.

I bought a hamburger from Son #3's fraternity.
I think it was the coldest hamburger I've ever eaten.
Their warmers had gone out.
Nice.

I rescued my brother from funnel cake hell.
He was a parent volunteer at his daughter's sorority and had been making funnel cakes for hours.
And had experienced a huge gust of wind that whipped through the tent and knocked over gallons of iced tea.
Right down his back.
Homecoming ...... it's not for sissies.

We spent the rest of the evening relaxing and watching "Storage Wars.
And staying warm.
Well, at least I stayed warm ...... but I didn't have a wet backside.
Or reek of the smell of hot oil.

And then there was this (which you may have seen that night on ESPN live):

The game was ...... well, a bit painful, but we won.
Both teams were pretty sloppy and there was much stress and frustration in the stands.
That tends to happen after a kicker misses three (3) field goal attempts.
In a row.
Sigh ...

But, at least it was a win.
And we once again enjoyed the "largest Homecoming in the nation".
And I got to spend time with Son #3.
So it was a win-win.

: )

A Message to the Church ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 17 Oct 2013 02:23:00 +0000

...... straight from the blog of Ann Voskamp, "A Holy Experience".
I love her words.
And the messages they bring.
I hope you enjoy them.
: )

Dear Church: Why It’s Okay to Really Need Each Other

In the heat of Uganda this past July, I wrote a letter, a post, I keep returning to, igniting with, a post that’s gone far and wide and sort of went crazy, A Letter to the North American Church. That’s what’s fiery in my bones… The church is the beautiful bride that Christ is returning for and I am passionate about the church, committed to her growth, her relentless flourishing, her certain thriving, preparing herself for His soon-coming. How do we, the church, grow and strengthen into the ready and beautiful bride?
I quietly have asked many of my friends to pray for the church over the next several weeks, and share with us here their own Letter to the North American Church.

Recently, my heart-sister, Patsy Clairmont shared her letter with us, as well as Elisa Morgan’s incredibly powerful letter on Broken that deeply resonated and Scot McKnight’s letter ringing hard… and today, another Women of Faith sister, Anita Renfroe, shares profound thoughts on the farm front porch:

~By Anita Renfroe

Isaw Martha Stewart a total of 6 times yesterday.

Not in person:

Once on a morning talk show, then in Walgreens smiling from the cover of her mag in full Halloween makeup.

And on another aisle on boxes of vitamins for hair, skin and nails (what?), in a sidebar ad on Facebook for decorating tips, mentioned in a tweet about best cupcake frosting recipes, and finally in a mailer pushing magazine subscriptions.

It was a lot of Martha in my world.

Not that I’m anti-Martha, especially since she did a little prison time (which, in my humble opinion, may have knocked off a little of her superior sheen in the best possible way) but I have no idea how she’s so…(?)…ubiquitous.

Her marketing team must not sleep. At. All.

I feel as if she’s “in my life” because there’s a lot of passive interaction with her.

And in that way, she reminds me of a lot of some of the churches of North America.

Some of us, we do Sundays together in a dark room with only the stage lit, so we really can’t see each other. We emerge into the outdoor sunlight, fumbling for our sunglasses, trying to adjust to the glare.

We greet a few people we already know, then successfully retreat to our lives of passive interaction with our church, attempting to create small pockets of community in a culture that has done everything in its power to deny that we should ever need community at all.

It’s practically in our DNA. “We’re independent! We’re self-sustained and self-contained! We’re home, alone, staring at an screen commenting on other people’s lives.”

We enter our WiFi’d caves where we have been culturally conditioned to cocoon, not commune.

Which is all well and good until you hit an inevitable rough patch and you find yourself, alone.

The question is: How can we re-create 1st century community in our zero-dependence culture?

When the New Testament church described in the book of Acts met together in homes with meals and prayer it was not an elective exercise — it was pure survival.

They had no idea if they were going to be run out of town, crucified upside down, fed to lions, torched or starved. They desperately needed each other to survive and live out this gospel that Jesus had begun.

If you grew up in pre-1970s rural America community was a matter of the due course of life. A sense of deeply connected life happened because of geography (people didn’t move that often or that far away), proximity (you had firsthand knowledge of their lives because you were near enough to witness it), longevity (you knew the same people for decades), financial interdependence (you needed each other to buy or sell your goods or services), and you were able to interact with your community on multiple levels (your attorney coached Little League, your 3rd grade teacher was a volunteer fireman).

If we now lack the live-or-die passion of the book of Acts or the long-term proximity of pre-industrial/pre-isolationist North America — can authentic community be petri-dished? Can it be really be effective as long as it’s elective?

But this is what I’ve also seen: When we are with people whom we did not choose to sojourn an unseen future, clinging to a common belief that God is loving and gracious and sovereign in all things— in that place where we witness each others’ lives up-close-and-personal, triumphs and tragedies hit us with the same force and we are left to make sense of the aftermath of both.

It could be about inviting the neighbors to our tables and building homes together and praying together and getting life under our fingernails together and we could come out of cocoons and commune.

It could be about us all being the church and choosing community is more than small groups on Wednesday nights: community is doing life with the people living next door to you.

It could be about us not missing Him — because we aren’t missing each other.

This is where grace intersects reality – where needs are met – where our stories converge.

Where hearts are known this side of heaven.

Feeling Adrift ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 16 Oct 2013 07:50:00 +0000

source

...... like someone alone in a canoe ...... with no oar, no compass.

I feel as though I'm living in some kind of in-between layer of life. It feels like I don't belong anywhere anymore ...... like a tree that's been cut away from its roots.
No place feels like "home" right now, or whatever "home" used to feel like.

My house in Texas is on the market and most of the time I feel like that's the right decision. But then the shadow of doubt creeps in and starts to cloud my mind and I don't know what's right for me.

I love NY, but I wonder if I'll be too lonely in the long run. I know that sounds crazy to most people ...... how can you feel lonely in a place where almost 8 million other people live?
I also know that I don't have to explain that feeling here. You get that. You have most likely felt the same dark loneliness in a room full of people.
I used to feel that way often in the first year or two of grieving. I thought that it had passed.
I was wrong.

I seem to feel lonely no matter where I am. Not all of the time, but definitely more lately. Home is no longer "home", but then ...... neither is anywhere else.
I miss my roots.

I have no doubt that I'd be feeling something quite like this if Jim were alive. After all, our youngest child left for college 2 months ago. I know that this is partly "empty nest syndrome".
But I also know that this "rootless" feeling is another result of his death.
In a world full of couples, of shifted relationships, of empty bedrooms ...... the person I most belonged with is missing. The one relationship here on earth that I knew was as solid as stone no longer grounds me ...... no longer helps me feel that I belong.

Experience tells me that this feeling will most likely pass.
It also tells me that it may take some time.
It does not, however, tell me what I should decide.
Or where I should put down new roots.

That's where hope comes in.
I hope that this loneliness will fade soon and that I'll be able to decide what my next step should be.

And I hope that I will once again feel a sense of belonging.
Wherever my canoe lands.

Spending Time in Tulsa ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 16 Oct 2013 02:22:00 +0000

...... looking at houses, hanging with Vicki and waiting to attend Homecoming this weekend and to hopefully spend some quality/quantity time with Son #3.

Yes, I'm back here looking at houses. We looked at a few a week ago and then several today. Tomorrow we'll look some more.
I don't know if I'll end up buying one here.

I may decide to live in NY full time.
I may decide to split my time between NY and Tulsa.
But not Texas.
Today I received another confirmation that I should be moving on.
And out.
Sometimes confirmations can be a great thing.
Sometimes they hurt like hell.
This was the latter.

But it's ok, because at least I know more today than I did yesterday.
I would rather deal with knowledge over ignorance and/or lies any day.
So thank you for that.

There Aren't Many Words ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 13 Oct 2013 15:20:00 +0000

...... in my head that are worth writing these days.
As I'm sure you can tell by the length of time between posts.

It's not that life is so great that I'm too happy to write.
Or that it sucks so much that I can't find the words to express myself.

Life is just life.
And my motivation has waned.

On the outside ...... life is good, life is busy, life is fun.
Things aren't always as they appear ...... on the outside.

I miss him.
And that will never change.

That's nothing new.
There doesn't seem to be anything new to be written.
Or the desire to write.

Maybe my days of writing are past.
Maybe the usefulness of this space has ended.

I wish I knew what to do or where I should live for this next part of my life.
I wish loneliness wasn't the prevailing feeling right now.

I know that this is a season in my life and that one season is followed by another.
I also know that in some places, one season can seem to last forever.

I'm hoping this is a very short season.

Progress......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 02 Oct 2013 20:42:00 +0000

"The way of progress is neither swift nor easy."

-Marie Curie

...... is not a word I would've used to describe any part of my "After" in the first few years.

Hell, I was trying too hard to just keep breathing, to just stay alive when I'd really rather not.

Progress? Who gave a damn about progress ...... I was using most of my strength to keep myself from sliding down into the bottom of the deepest, darkest, coldest cave I'd ever experienced ...... knowing that if I slid in too far, I would not return.

Progress? In looking back I can now see that not staying in that cave was indeed, progress.

But it really is only in looking back that that became apparent.

But I have to say that Marie Curie was spot on when she said, "The way of progress is neither swift nor easy."

This thing I call my "After" was anything but.

It was painfully slow, but it was progress.

Although I would never have used the noun progress , I did start to learn the verb progress. I realized that just putting one foot in front of the other was to progress ...... was to move forward. Not move on, mind you, but move forward. I will never "move on" from Jim, my love for him, and from my "Before". But I have, and will continue to move forward. I will progress, because I was finally able to make the choice to do so. It took a long time ...... a very long time, for me to be able to see that I could choose ...... before I knew I had the strength to choose. And when that happened, I knew that I was progressing.

This road is long. And it's not smooth, or easy, or quick. It's filled with land mines, huge holes of depression, the needs of others, unfair comparisons (from other people as well as from ourselves), ever-changing relationships and a myriad of constantly swirling emotions that not only threaten to pull us under, but keep us from having the strengh to figure out who we are now in the "After" that we never chose.

As we all walk in our "Afters" together, I think the most important thing I can tell you is this:

"It does not matter how slowly you go so long as
you do not stop."

-Confucius

And while I think Confucius was a very wise man, I disagree with him on one small point, that really isn't so small: You can stop. You can take many stops on those days when moving forward takes more energy than you have.
Just don't stay stopped.

I've spent time with those who have stayed stopped ...... who have not moved forward in a very long time.
That choice is not for me. It's not what my kids want for me and it's certainly not what Jim would've wanted. Nor I for him.

And I hope it's not what you want.
Because no matter how difficult this is to hear ...... and I know that it is ...... Life is for the living.
And there's a lot of living to be had out there ...... even while we grieve. Don't wait to live, thinkig that you'll do it when the grief goes away. You'll never live.
The grief is here. It becomes far less overwhelming and it loses the capacity to drop you to your knees, or pull you down that dark cave, but it's always there.

And that's the way it should be. You had a love. You experienced love. Hopefully they were both great.
In my opinion, great love never goes away.
Thank God.
If great love never goes away then we cannot expect our grief for that love to go away.
But I promise you this ...... it becomes much easier to live with.

So keep progressing.
Move forward when you can.
Don't stop for good.
And keep breathing.

I promise it's worth it.
Eventually.

I Think I Might Be Allergic ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 01 Oct 2013 04:59:00 +0000

..... to New York.

Not that I care, mind you ...... I just thought I'd share.
Daughter #3 and I have been using a lot of Kleenex ...... and alternately not being able to breathe.
But some things are worth suffocating for.

I spent the afternoon today in the Park. You know the one.
And I had a fabulous time.
I ate my lunch, caught up on my journaling and quiet time, and watched some very small boys practice t-ball/baseball.
I had to pull myself away at 5:00. Really.
It was awkward.
: )

I had to leave then because Daughter #3 and had I had a date tonight to go see Betty Buckley.
For those of you who are too young to remember her from "Eight Is Enough" ...... I will refrain from telling you to go away, but really?!

Here's where I will digress just a bit to tell you that I not only loved that show (and who knew that I would end up living in my own version of "Eight Is Enough"?!) but I loved Dick Van Patten and wanted him to be my father in law. Of course, that would mean that I would have to marry one of his sons, namely, Vince, which wouldn't be that much of a sacrifice because he was, and still is, pretty hot.

Enough of digressing and giving you my inner-most teen thoughts.

Betty was pretty good tonight. Daughter #1 happens to work at the theatre where she was performing and she got us the tickets.
Daughter #1 rocks that way.

Here we are, all dressed up for the show:

Betty actually is better known for Broadway ("Cats", and Tony, anyone?) and is happier being known for that.
Anywhoooo, it was a fun evening.
Right up until the time that she sang "Memory", which I love, but didn't recall, until about 2 seconds after she started singing it, that it was the very first musical that Jim and I saw together. His first intro in all that is Broadway and my love for it.
A love that he not only accepted, but dived into head first.
And the tears flowed.
I had to work to not sob out loud.
All out of nowhere.
That's grief for you.
Always there, waiting behind some unsuspecting corner, ready to pounce on you and take you down.
Thankfully, it takes a lot more to take me down than it used to.
No one rocks that song the way that she does.
In spite of the tears, I loved it.

So yeah, I'm still loving NY.
The more I'm here, the more I want to be here.

I've met several people in my building .... they've all be very nice and welcoming. I even went to dinner with one the other night.
And yes, for those of you who are keeping track, or who have no life, that person was a male.
A friendly, and interesting, evening.

While everyone has been friendly, there is one thing that I've noticed ...... and have questioned, to myself and to the guy I had dinner with.
Upon being introduced to people here, the first question is usually, "Where are you from?" ...... and the second question, without fail (at least by all of the females I've met), is "What floor are you on?".
The first time I was asked that I didn't think anything about it. The second time I didn't think much, other than it was interesting.
The third and fourth time, I knew that the question was more about finding out my "status" than about my physical address.
In other words, "What floor are you on?" is the equivalent of "How much are you worth?"
Or at least that's what I've gathered.
And just between you and me ...... my 8th floor address is the lowest address I've encountered.
Interesting, to say the least.

Oliver is slowing adjusting to city life.
Very slowly.
He is totally freaked out by Jack.
And while I expected him to slowly adapt to him, I didn't expect him to be as freaked out as he is.
I finally figured out the problem: it's the cone.
Jack still has a cone around his neck, and I think Oliver is totally freaked out by it. It's like he thinks Jack is some sort of alien and not just a cat.
Which is totally understandable if you watch Jack from behind.
He looks like a bobble head when he walks.
Seriously.
His head, and the cone, swings from left to right quite dramatically.
Which I guess would be kind of freakish to another cat.
Or at least to Oliver.
Who's his own kind of freak.

So yeah, that's life in NY.
Interesting.
Refreshing.
Freakish.
And home.
Amazingly, surprisingly, and wonderfully ...... home.
I.
Love.
It.

Happy Monday/Tuesday, Peeps.
: )

For The First Time In Years ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 20 Sep 2013 22:37:00 +0000

...... I'm experiencing a true Fall.
And wow, does it feel great!!

I arrived in NY last night, with Oliver in tow.
He was quiet during the entire trip ...... right up until the pilot announced we were starting our descent. I'm not sure if that announcement made it through his drug-induced haze, but if so, he was evidently less than thrilled to be landing in NY.
Fortunately, I was the only one who could hear him.
I didn't realize that, so I kept leaning down and sticking my hand inside his carrier to pet him and try to calm him down.
I also kept chuckling because he was being so loud.
Evidently no one else noticed what I was doing, or thought I was just insane, which is of course, true.

After we landed and I had taken my bag out of the overhead, I reached down and pulled his carrier out from under the seat in front of me and sat it down on my seat.
The guy who sat next to me in the middle seat looked at the carrier and then at me and seemed flabbergasted.
He said, "I had NO idea that you had her/him down there!"
I laughed and said, "Good. He had good drugs. Which have evidently worn off."
I was sitting about half way back in the plane and at that point, I think everyone behind me could hear Oliver. There was much laughing and pointing going on.
I'm sure the laughter was in total relief that he didn't meow his head off like that during the flight.
It's amazing how much cuter a pet and/or baby is on an airplane when the flight is over and people are surprised that they were there in the first place.

I was standing outside the airport, waiting on the car to arrive to take me to the apartment when the flight attendants from our flight walked by me. I didn't notice them until one of them stopped as she was walking past and looked at the carrier that was sitting on my bag.
"What is that?!", she asked. I thought about telling her it was a baby, but only for a nano second. You know, sometimes a meowing cat and a crying baby sound eerily alike.
I told her that it was a cat and she replied that she had NO idea that I had him on the plane. I informed her that the guy next to me said the same thing.
Then she proceeded to tell me a lovely story about being on a recent flight with a service dog. They were delayed in San Francisco and the dog evidently chose that time to have to relieve herself. She said that they were sticking newspapers under her to try to get her to "go". Instead, she ran to the back of the plane and then let loose. And it wasn't urine that was loosed. And, speaking of loose ...... yep, evidently she was having some intestinal problems. The flight attendant didn't describe it that way ..... she used the "d" word. And said it was all over the place.
Hopefully you're not eating anything while reading this.
But if you are, aren't you glad I didn't use the "d" word?
You're welcome.

So Oliver and I made it to the apartment, and he was pretty calm in the car. But as soon as we got in the apartment he started stating his opinion about the whole trip ...... loudly. And pathetically. I didn't let him out of the carrier until I had a litter box set up (thank you Amazon for free shipping, making it one less thing I had to pack).
Daughter #3 videoed him because his meow was so annoying. I think he was still drugged, which made him sound almost guttural ...... and also made his eyes look a little more crazy than usual.
After he walked through the apartment, loudly voicing his displeasure, I carried him in to meet Jack. They both just stared at each other through drugged cat eyes.
I doubt that either remembers it today.

Speaking of Jack, his surgery went well on Tuesday and he seems to be mending. Daughter #1 is keeping him in her bedroom. That's supposedly because the surgeon said to keep him calm and quiet (his jaw is wired together, which sounds, and is, horrible but at least it doesn't have the expected plate in it) ...... but I think it's probably because she doesn't trust me. And probably won't for the next 10 years or so.
Sigh ......

So today I went up to the roof and worked out for an hour. Which means that I probably won't be able to get out of bed tomorrow. But at least it felt good today. I plan to keep it up.
Of course, "best laid plans ..." and all that.

I ran a couple of errands after that, unpacked 3 large suitcases that had mostly household stuff and DVDs, showered and then went back up to the roof to sit outside and read.
It was glorious.
The sitting outside and reading part. The errands, unpacking and showering were average.

Tomorrow is our first Soaring Spirits regional group meeting in NY. There may be about 15 people or so there. Which is amazing and awful all at the same time.
But hopefully fun.

And then on Sunday I'm flying back to Houston so that I can play in a tennis match on Monday. No, it wasn't a part of my original plan, which is why my miles points are now cut in half.
And that's all I'm going to say about that.
Except that I return to NY on Tuesday.

I think that you're mostly caught up with me now.
Which is a lot more than I can say for myself.

Except for this ...... I've decided that maybe I shouldn't watch any more of the new "Star Trek" movies. The newest one was the movie on the plane. I had seen it before, but chose to plug in my earphones and watch it again.
There are a couple of scenes in there that made me cry. Which was hugely embarrassing. Because .... it was a full plane and well, I felt stupid.
Except it wasn't the movie itself that brought the tears. It was the fact that someone died and it took me back. Back to going back and seeing Jim for the last time.
Not Jim, really. But his body.
Which makes me cry now but Oliver is the only one in the room with me so it's not quite so embarrassing.
But it still hurts.
Still.
Damn.

And I had wanted to end on a good note.
Except that I don't sing all that well so I'm not sure that would've been possible anyway.
Get it?
Never mind.

Thanks for keeping up with me, Peeps.
I know it's not an easy job.

And have a great weekend.
:)

Grace ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 19 Sep 2013 15:33:00 +0000

...... by Beth Moore:

Grace is an inflated raft that can submerge to the floor of a sea to save you.

Grace is the silver thread that stitches up the shreds of mangled souls.

Grace is the eye that finds us where it refuses, there, to leave us.

Grace calls the waitress to the table and sits her down to wash her feet.

Grace sees underneath the manhole on a street of self-destruction.

Grace is the air to draw a breath in the belly of a whale.

Grace is the courage to stand in the shamed wake of a frightful falling.

Grace is the only fire hot enough to burn down a living hell.

Grace waits with healing in His wings when we’re too mad to pray.

Grace is the gravity that pulls us from depravity.

Grace races us to the Throne when we make haste to repent and always outruns us.

Grace treats us like we already are what we fear we’ll never become.

Grace is the doorpost dripping red when the angel of death grips the knob.

Grace is the stamp that says Ransomed on a life that screams Ruined.

Grace sets a table before me in the presence of my enemy even when my enemy is me.

Grace is the cloak that covers the naked and the palm that drops the rock.

Grace is divine power burgeoning in the absence of all strength.

Grace proves God true and every self-made man a liar for the sake of his own soul.

Grace is the power to do what we cannot do for the Name of Christ to go where it has not been.

Grace is a room of a thousand mirrors, all reflecting the face of Christ.

Grace is…

The eye popping

Knee dropping

Earth quaking

Pride breaking

Dark stabbing

Heart grabbing

Friend mending

Mind bending

Lame walking

Mute talking

Slave freeing

Devil fleeing

Death tolling

Stone rolling

Veil tearing

Glory flaring

Chin lifting

Sin sifting

Dirt bleaching

World reaching

Past covering

Spirit hovering

Child defending

Happy ending

Heaven glancing

Feet dancing…

Power of the Cross.

Happy Thursday, Peeps.
I hope you experience/give Grace today.
: )

Like a Wheel Within a Wheel ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 18 Sep 2013 07:59:00 +0000

...... these are our wedding rings. A circle in a circle.
I had them put together like this at about 9 - 10 months out. I wear them on a necklace.
I haven't worn them in a while, but lately, I've felt a strong pull to wear them. A lot.
I don't know why and I've learned to not question things that I feel pulled to do.
I have also felt the missing of him stronger lately.
I'm sure that one thing is connected with the other.
I don't know why, I just know.

Even now, at almost 6 years out, the thought of how very much I still miss him makes me cry. I cannot speak (or type) the words, "I miss him" without crying.
Ever.

Grief, and my "after", are like a circle within a circle. They are intertwined with each other ...... forever. The missing of him will never end. Like a never ending circle. I will always miss him and I suppose that I will always cry at the depth of the hole he left behind. Within me.

Don't get me wrong. My life is good.
Yes, it could be better, but I'll take good.
Because I can't have him.

I am happy.
It's a different happy, but I'll take happy ...... however it looks and feels.
Because I can't have him.
And I can't live miserably ...... missing him.

But I can continue to live, feel happiness, feel joy when it comes ...... and feel love in many different ways.
Even if I can't have him.
Because I can't have him.

I'll continue to love, live, be happy ...... and feel peace, even while I sometimes feel grief.
And miss him.
And cry.

It's a circle.
Within a circle.
And I'm blessed to live in that circle.
Because I was blessed to have him.

Windmills of Your mind

Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnaval balloon
Like a carousell that's turning
Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind

Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair

Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind

And Now ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Sep 2013 06:13:00 +0000

...... the original subject that I was going to post about Thursday night.

When last I left you I had updated you about Jack and told you the story of my trip to the grocery store on Wednesday.

On Thursday morning I had my first orthodontic appointment in 2 months. I've been wearing my braces only at night, which has been a lot easier than wearing them all day long.
Plus, the last time I went in, my ortho took off the attachments that he had glued to my teeth months ago. Those horrible bumpy things that made raw spots on the inside of my cheeks ..... unless I had the braces on.
I was much relieved.

So on this visit, I got the next set of braces, plus 7 (SEVEN) new attachments glued to my teeth. You know, to replace the 3 I had before.
Yeah, more raw spots, new tight braces that I get to wear 22-23 hours a day.
Fun!!

After my appointment I met up with my lovely friend/real estate agent so that she could show me a house that just came on the market in the neighborhood that I like.
I really like the neighborhood, but still don't know if I want to stay in Houston or not. I guess I'm keeping my options open.

After seeing the house, I went back home and threw several things into a suitcase. Since I was leaving town I did what I usually do: locked a closet door and locked my bedroom door. I didn't always do this, but ever since we had an "event" at the end of May last year (think "Risky Business" without the hookers) while I was out of town, I now take precautions.

Son #2 drove me to the airport, where I caught a flight to Tulsa. Vicki picked me up, along with her daughter C. We went to dinner and then to their house to relax for the evening.
I went to bed around midnight.
At around 1:30 a.m. my cell phone rang. It was from Son #2.
Here's the gist of our conversation:
Me: "Hello?"
S2: "Hey. How's it going?"
Me: "Ummmmm, fine. Why are you calling at 1:30 a.m.?"
S2:: And here's the whole reason for this post ........
"Ummmm ...... how do you unlock your bedroom door?"
Me: "With the key. That's with me. Why?"
S2: "The cats are locked in your room."
Me: -silence, followed by ..... "Are you kidding?"
S2: "Nope. Theyre' in there. Should I use a knife and take the door knob off?"
Me: "No! Don't break the door knob. Can you use a screw driver and remove it that way?"
S2: "Nope. There aren't any screws."
Me: "What about sliding the bolts out of the hinges? Wait, those are on the inside, aren't they?"
S2" "Yep. On the inside. I can use a knife and get it off."
Me: "No! Don't use a knife. What about that credit card thing .... where you slide it between the door and the door frame?"
S2: --after trying the credit card thing-- "Nope. That's not going to work."
Me: "Well, I don't know what to tell you. Are you sure they're in there?"
S2: "Yes. You're not coming back until Tuesday. They're going to die in there."
Me: "Nah, they won't die. Unless they eat each other."
S2: "Not funny."
Me: "OK, in the morning call a lock smith. Here's the name of one I've used before: ______. Keep me posted."
S2: "OK.

He called the locksmith the next morning. The guy came out and had to break the lock to get it open.
Yep, I could've saved $85 and let Son #2 do that the night before.
Oh well, the cats were released.
Even better ..... by some miracle neither of them ate each other, or pooped or peed in my room. So yay for that.
It's been an emotional week, feline-wise.

As I mentioned earlier, a cyber vet friend set up a page so that people could help with the expenses of fixing Jack (https://fundrazr.com/campaigns/3bI70). I was, and am, very grateful and humbled by her actions and by the actions of others who have donated to that page. It's not something I would've done. Ever.
But then I wouldn't have seen the amazing kindness of family, friends and complete strangers.
So thank you to her and to everyone who's wanted to help, and has ..... with good thoughts, prayers, comments and donations.
T.A.N.W.

In other news of wonderfully amazing support, SS received a grant Thursday ...... money to support our Regional Groups program. A camper nominated us for it. And every one of us on the Board was stunned. And a couple of us cried, Including me.

On the flip side ...... I received a text message from my bank on Friday. I didn't trust a text message so I called them. The text message was the real deal.
It seems that my credit card # has been stolen ...... for the third time in 6 months or so.
Seriously?

Now one credit card is dead and the other is pretty much full of vet bills.
But at least my bank doesn't make me pay for purchases that I didn't make.
Like three consecutive purchases at Target ...... each for between 2 and 3 hundred dollars.
W.T.H.?

So tomorrow I get to try to remember which accounts/bills I have on auto pay and hopefully get them all updated before they find out that the credit card I've used is now useless. For the third time. But I said that earlier.

Anyway ...... that's about it ..... I think. Vicki and I are relaxing at her lake condo, which is beautiful and a wonderfully quiet space.
Of course as I wrote about the credit card, I remembered that it's being sent to her house tomorrow via FedEx and they'll require a signature.
Of course.

So our lake trip will end before we had planned. And hopefully we won't miss the FedEx man/person.

I think I may have caught you all up now.
Maybe.
But don't quote me.
Because things tend to change over night.
Or second by second.

But life is good.
Mostly.
Before I forget, I had a great visit with Son #3 this morning. He's very happy at school.
Very.
That makes me happy.
But boy, do I miss him.
And yes, I cried again today as we drove away from him.
But I'm glad and relieved that he's happy and doing so very well.
Did I mention that he's the president of his pledge class?
No, I didn't, but now I have.
In case you can't tell ...... I'm very proud of him.

I head back to NY on Thursday and I can't wait.
Oliver is going with me.
Which should make things very interesting.
Please join me in praying that he, and Jack, hate windows.

OK, Peeps.
That's it for now.
For however long "now" lasts.

I hope you had a good weekend.
Do me a favor, boycot Sports Illustrated.
For their lack of journalistic integrity.
That, and the fact that they print stories by someone who's been fired for writing lies in the past.
More than once.

That's all I'm going to say about that.
At least for now.

Happy Sunday/Monday, Peeps.
:)

Patience ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Sep 2013 02:33:00 +0000

...... Part 2.

So for those of you who saw the last post ...... stop worrying. I wrote Part 1 from the rough draft I had done last night, most of which was written without the ability to see the screen, due to whatever Blogger and iPads have against each other.
So it was FULL of typos and weird words, but I knew that I wasn't going to publish it by that point. I just wrote until I got tired of not being able to see, knowing that I'd save it, edit it later and publish it afterwards.
But again, Blogger continued to hate my iPad and so the wrong post was published ...... and boy, did some of you make some snide comments on FB!
And yes, I know that they were made in jest!
:)

No, I did not have anything to drink when that posted. I was on a road trip. Thinking of you and trying to get the dang thing posted.
You're welcome.

Now on to Part 2:

So ...... I flew back to Houston on Wednesday, rushed to my hair appointment, and then went to the grocery store for some much needed supplies. I need to preface this by saying that, when I'm in Houston, I go to that store at least 4-5 times a week because meal planning is no longer a forte of mine.
It's a somewhat small community. My face is known.
Back to Wednesday evening.

I went to check out with my full cart and once the total came up, reached into my purse to grab my wallet.
My wallet was back home, in my bedroom where I had dumped everything out of my bag before I left for my hair appointment because I didn't want to take all of the stuff I had for the plane trip.

But I wasn't going to panic ...... I still had my check book in my bag. This statement also needs a preface. I haven't written a check at the grocery store, or really ...... except for a very few ...... anywhere else for the last decade or so.
But I know that checks are still an acceptable means of payment, at most places, so I wrote a check. The newish checker put my check into her little machine that stamps the store's info on it and then she asked to see my driver's license, which I did not have.
I told her that and pointed out that I had written my DL number on the memo line. She stared at it for a while and then asked again to see my license.
Ummmmm ...... yeah.

I should've mentioned that I was in the fast lane since I had 19 items, which meets the requirement of being less than 20. Unfortunately, the man who was breathing down my neck as the next person in line, didn't seem to care that I was under the limit. Let's just say that he was less than thrilled that I had forgotten my wallet. I told him that I was sorry, which gave me the sense of deja vu since I found myself repeating that phrase several times throughout the previous couple of days.
And, just as every previous time, I received no response. At all. But by the time I apologized to him, I didn't give a flip.

Finally understanding that I had no driver's license, or even a Sam's card...... nor a photo id of ANY kind, the checker sighed and picked up the phone.
Yep, she made the dreaded call for the manager.
I bet that call is one of the things that occurs when a person reaches the gates of hell.

The manager finally made his way over to what used to be the express checkout, and proceeded to ask for my DL, or any other photo ID, even though the checker had just told him, loudly enough for all of the checkout lines to hear, that I didn't have one.
Not that I had forgotten it, but that I evidently didn't possess one. I'm surprised he didn't call Homeland Security .... that's how disappointed he appeared to be with me.

He then informed me that they could not accept my check.
When I asked why, he said that their computer told them not to. When I pushed further and asked why their computer said that, he had no clear answer. Except for this gem: "Have you written a lot of checks today?"
I had already told him that I just flew in from NY, AND that I rarely write checks, but shop in their store almost daily. But rather than say, "Duhhhhh, we've been over this already!", I just said no.
He handed me my check and suggested I return later, with a proper id. After I asked if he was seripus (yes, I really did) I told him that I doubted that would happen.
And I left my 19 already bagged items and went home.

Luckily I have a friend who lives down the street and she had a nice bottle of wine.

The end of Part 2.

Part 3 will be posted ..... later.
Maybe.

Patience Is A Virtue ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 16 Sep 2013 00:28:00 +0000

...... and evidently it's a virtue that some of my Peeps do not possess.
I will refrain from naming names, but all of you whiners know exactly who you are.
Sheesh!

So here I am, late on a Saturday night, writing a post that I said would not come until Sunday. But God forbid that I might be too busy tomorrow ...... I have the sneaking suspicion that one or two ~~stalkers~~ very supportive and interested readers might end up finding me in Oklahoma, and ~~tying me up and forcing me to dictate this post~~ not leaving my side until I catch them up with all that is my life.

Being the kind-hearted person that I am I'm going to put you out of your impatient misery and update you.
Not only will you be caught up with me ...... well as much as you can be caught up on my second-to-second whirlwind of a life ...... but you will most likely feel better about your own lives.
Truly.
________________________________________________________________________________________

Ok, it is now Sunday night. I started this post late last night and didn't stop until close to 2:00 a.m., when I had to make a decision: stop working on it, or throw my iPad against the wall and then stomp on it.
I chose the former.
Evidently.

For some reason I have never figured out, iPads and Blogger do not get along. I thought it was just my iPad, but since I got a brand new one to replace my fried one last week, I know this is bigger than my iPad and me.

I can't write a very long post or Blogger stops working, which it did, around 1 a.m., but I didn't want to throw the towel in ...... until I was about to throw the iPad.

So, still using the iPad, I'm going to post this entry in a series of posts. Kind of like Sports Illustrated is currently doing, except without the lies.

Here we go ......

So ...... you know all about Jack, and the trip he took out of the window last week. I cancelled my flight for Tuesday and stayed an extra day, just so that I could sit in the apartment, crying all day and feeling beyond miserable.
It was a joy.

Since then, Jack improved enough to be taken by Daughter #1 to the ASPCA, which had agreed to take him, for hopefully a cheaper price.
She was able to take him there Friday afternoon. His jaw, which is broken in several places, was sutured by one of the vets, who said that it would hopefully heal on its own now. I must mention that I had been told by 2 vet friends that broken cat jaws are not uncommon and that they can heal without surgery in many instances. So that was good news.
For about five minutes.

The vet surgeon came to inspect Jack and the sutures and realized that he not only has bones that are broken, but he also has a dislocation,which means he has to have surgery.
Of course.
Ka-Ching!

She did allow D1 to take him home, but surgery is scheduled for Tuesday morning. He'll most likely stay in the hospital that night.
Ka-Ching!

Thankfully, the "Ka-Ching" at the ASPCA is a bit softer than the one at the original vet hospital, which now has a great deal of my money, and the rights to my first born grandchild.
I didn't tell them that most of them would be dead and buried before that event happens ...... I figured they can find that out all on their own.

Thus ends Entry #1.
I will post the 2nd part as soon as I can use my computer.

Wait for it .....
:)

I Can't Believe .....

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 14 Sep 2013 07:09:00 +0000

...... how very impatient so many of my Peeps are!!!

The post is coming. Soon. I promise.
Jut not now.
I've been out all day and it's now 2 a.m. I have to get up early to go to OSU and hopefully see Son #3.

Anyway, my day just had more crap piled onto it so the upcoming post will be even more "magical" that I had first hoped.

Don't look for it before Sunday.
And give me a break.
SOMEBODY needs to.
IMHO.

Night/morning Peeps.
Happy Saturday.

Wait for it ..... Wait for it .......

: )

A Post Is Coming ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Sep 2013 18:10:00 +0000

...... that you're not going to believe.
Unless you're a long-time reader, or even a medium-time reader.
Then you're going to totally believe it.

Some publishing company is missing out on huge bucks by not offering me a book contract, just based on this blog.

Because honestly, I can NOT make this stuff up.

So ..... yeah.
That's all you're getting right now.
I'm such a tease.

:)

A tease who needs some time to write a post.

Wait for it ..........

Happy Friday, Peeps!

P.S. Jack is doing better and will be transferred to the ASPCA at any moment, where they will (hopefully) do the surgery on his jaw for WAY less than the previous hospital. No one in NY will look at records and give you an estimate.
NO.
ONE.
It seems they want you to walk through the doors with the animal so that can then charge you an automatic fee.
I kid you not.

In other, yet related, news ...... an amazingly kind cyber friend, who is a vet, has started a FB page for Jack, to help off set the cost of all of this.
I know you've read this before, and some of you have even heard it in person, but ......
I.
Am.
Stunned.
Truly. The kindness that pours out of people is nothing less than amazing and beautiful.

P.P.S. I'll comment more on another event that just occurred that also shows the amazingly beautiful kindness of strangers.

P.P.P.S. DANG, I need more time!!!
: )

One More Day ...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 10 Sep 2013 17:25:00 +0000

...... though I'd much rather be on my way to Texas than sitting here, feeling what I'm feeling.

Last night, at some time after midnight, Daughter #1's cat made his way into my bedroom, which I almost always keep shut so that he can't come in. I was in the rest room, getting ready for bed and I suddenly heard the window shade make a loud noise. I looked over there and immediately knew what had happened. Jack had come in, jumped up on the window sill and either jumped or fell out of the window. I couldn't see him down there, but a guy was looking up at me, not saying anything or pointing at anything, just looking.
I started praying out loud, grabbed my shoes and my keys and flew out of the door, down the elevator and outside. I looked all over but couldn't see him. Then I started to hear his meow. I couldn't tell if he was in a tree, or down on the ground. The more I called his name, the louder is meow became. I finally dropped to my hands and knees and crawled around and between newspaper machines and parked cars and there I found him ...... underneath a car. He wouldn't' come to me but just kept meowing. I could tell that his mouth was hurt and that he was bleeding. I spoke soothingly to him and petted him as I crawled as close as I could under that car. Then I managed to grab his tail and started gently pulling to try to get him to back out. All four feet were clawed into the ground as much as he could manage, so I had to pull harder on his tail, hoping that I wasn't causing any further injuries, and hoping that he wouldn't turn on me and use those claws and his teeth.
He didn't and I was able to get him out. I cradled him close to me and went back into my building and up into my room. I grabbed a soft towel and wrapped him in it and then walked into Daughter #1's bedroom to do what I dreaded doing ..... waking her up to tell her what happened.
That's when I started crying.

She held him and talked to him while I got on the internet and searched for a nearby 24 hour vet hospital. I called one, left a message and was told that a dr would return my call in 15 minutes. We both felt that was too long to wait so after a few minutes I got back on line and called the next place. A woman actually answered the phone because they really were open all night. So we got the address, jumped into a cab and headed over.

D1 turned Jack over to the nurse who let us in and said the dr would be up as soon as he'd examined him.
D1 and I sat in a small exam room and cried and cried, saying very little to each other, other than the "I'm so sorry" that came out every 5 minutes or so. She wouldn't even meet my eye.

The vet came in pretty quickly and said that Jack's jaw had been broken in several places. Part of the bone under his cheek had broken and it seemed to have gone behind his right eye, which explained the bleeding we had seen there. He said that he didn't seem to have any other orthopedic problems, so that was good. He was breathing very rapidly, which we had known, but that could be due to the pain and the stress and hopefully not a lung injury. He said that there may be neurological damage but that we wouldn't know that for another 24 hours or so. They had sedated him, and given him pain meds, which makes it hard to assess his neuro condition. But at least he was out of pain.

Then he started talking about the cost that it would take to fix him. He was a very, very nice man. He said that it would not be inexpensive, but that there are programs we could apply for to see if we could get financial help for this. The problem with that was the time it would take and he needed help that night. The hospital didn't want to start spending a large amount of money on him if the treatment could not be continued. He said that he'd work up an estimate for the cost for overnight and then we could decide what to do after that.
He also said that, if we could not afford it, another choice was to go ahead and put him down. It would be humane and painless and he'd support that.
I think that's pretty much when D1 stopped looking at me altogether.
The dr. left to go get the estimate, leaving us alone in the room.
And even though we didn't have eye contact I assured her that Jack would not be put to sleep.

I paid the estimate for the overnight bill, we went down to see him for a bit. He was asleep and pain-free, but still a difficult site for D1.
Then we caught a cab back to the apartment and still managed to not look at each other.

I just bought window fans that day. I had installed 2 in the living room and one in my bedroom. The one in my bedroom fits perfectly and leaves no room for a cat to get out. The two in the living room are less fitted, but they seemed secure enough to me to not let a cat over them.
It wasn't one of those windows that he jumped from ..... it was my window that was open about 4 inches.
D1 had expressed her fear of the cat falling when I had told her weeks ago that we weren't going to run the AC when the air outside was cool. It would be too expensive and just crazy. She wanted me to install screens on the windows, which would be astronomical and isn't all that easy to find around here. So I opted for opening the windows a crack, except for in my room, because the cat wasn't allowed in there and the door was always (usually) kept shut.

Then I saw the window fans at Beth's house and thought that those would work. We could have the window open, yet blocked because a fan was set in it.

This morning, after D1 left for work, I removed the fans from the living room windows and went back to opening them a crack. I'm sure that they'll be completely shut if and when Jack comes back.

So hopefully you can see why I completely see this as my fault. As I'm sure she does.
Which is why, when she stopped by the hospital this morning to get the astronomical estimate for what the surgery and after care would cost, I said, "OK."
Because what else could I say?

I haven't stopped crying since this happened. It's unbelievable how much guilt a heart can hold.

But you want to know the kicker? The real heart-splitting thing that I canNOT get out of my head? The thing that causes just as many tears today?

The doctor said this: "We need to wait for the swelling to go down before we can operate."

And though this is in NO WAY the same ...... and very very INSANE ...... those are the exact words I was told 5 years and almost 9 months ago..
EX.
ACT.

And those words are killing me all over again.

It's not about the cat. Or whether or not he lives.
It's about D1, and what this will do to her, and her partner, whom I care for very much.
And what it will do it us.

But more than that ..... it's about Jim. It's about waiting all that damn day before taking him into surgery. It's about not being able to wait, in the end.
And it's about none of that mattering ...... in the end.
Because it was the end.

It's about some things that never end.
No matter how much you wish they would.

Feeling More and More ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 10 Sep 2013 04:31:00 +0000

...... detached from Texas and the life I lead/led there.

Part of me is very frustrated by this ...... and very sad.
Life moves on. People move on. Groups move on.
I get that.
And I'm ok with that ...... unless I'm trying to make other people happy by being in the right place at the right time.
I guess the lesson is ...... I can't make anyone else happy and so I need to do what's best for me.

I'm heading back to Texas tomorrow ...... and I wish that I felt happier about that.
But today I've been making mental lists of all of the things I'd like to pack up and move here.
I feel so ready to be done there.
I'm sure that the feeling is mutual ...... Texas is ready to be done with me.
:)

In a perfect world ...... hell, in a perfect world Jim would still be alive and this wouldn't be an issue.
We wouldn't even be living in Texas right now if he were still alive.
But he's not, and I am, and and the world is far from perfect.
As am I.

Part of me is really sad about leaving.
But most of me thinks that I could never go back ...... and no one would notice.
Except for my mother.
She'd notice ...... BIG time!

I need to go through my house and list all of the things I need to sell/give to the kids/get rid of. There's so much to do before one sells a house and moves. I'd love to be able to twitch my nose, or fold my arms and blink (now that's dating myself!) and be done with all of that.
I want to stay in one place and while part of me wishes it were there ...... it's not.

I hope that my Texas friends will always be my friends ...... and that they'll come to visit as often as they can.
But I realize that's not possible for everyone. Which makes me grateful for Facebook and other computer magic that helps people stay in touch with each other.

In truth, my heart breaks (yet again) at the thought of leaving the place where it was "Jim and me, and the kids". And the tears flow steadily as I type this.
But there is no more "Jim and me". And the kids are spread all over the place.
I need to make room for "me". And as much as I wish it were there, it is not. It's not the same.
I'm not the same, friends are not the same, places are not the same.
Nor should any of them be the same.
Life moves forward.

And I want ...... and need ...... to move forward with it.

Happy Monday/Tuesday, Peeps.
Thanks for being here.
: )

Traveling ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 09 Sep 2013 03:20:00 +0000

...... is pretty much what I've been doing since I arrived in NY last week.

Last week I spent an entire day and evening at the U.S. Open.
By myself.
It was wonderful.

I had a great time and was surprised by how much fun I had, even though I was "alone".
Five years ago I think I would've had a mental breakdown at the thought of spending a day like that alone.
But no more.

That's one reason I love this city so very much.
A person going out to dinner, or to the park, or to a movie, or to, say ...... the U.S. Open ...... all by themselves doesn't raise an eyebrow.
Not one.
And I love that.

Since then I have traveled on all sorts of public transportation. Either alone or with friends.
The subway. Both alone and not alone.
The New Jersey Transit --- took a train to NJ, with 2 friends so that we could spend the weekend with another friend. All 4 of us are widows.

Then last week I rode a New Jersey Transit bus to New Jersey. Atlantic City, to be exact.
To visit Beth, who is also a widow.
We had a great time.

We strolled the Boardwalk, hung out at 2 different beaches, climbed a lighthouse, hung out with her children, saw her daughters college dorm room, walked all over the beach town of Cape May, took my dying iPad into an Apple store 9 days before my extended warranty expired, got a brand new iPad in less than 20 minutes, drove to Philadelphia, took a double decker bus tour of the city, and ate a Philly cheesesteak, which was really wonderful, much to my surprise.

After that I rode an Amtrak train back to the city.
It was a nice ride, even if I had to hurry to not miss it.

Today Daughters #1 & #2 and I went to see "Kinky Boots", which just won the Tony award for Best Musical.
It was very good.

Then D #1 headed to the theatre where she works because tonight is opening night for a show.
D #2 and I strolled down Times Square for a bit and then decided to go to Carmine's for dinner. It's one of our favorite places and if you're ever in NY you definitely need to go. The food is amazingly good and amazingly plentiful.
The platter of pasta that we ordered to share was large enough to feed a small country.
Or maybe Rhode Island.
This was after we were finished:

I took this picture to try to show how large the pieces of garlic bread were. They were larger than D3's hand.
Needless to say, we had a whole lot of leftovers, which means D3 is going to be eating Italian all week for lunch. And she's pretty ok with that. : )

We sat at the bar (because it's also usually amazingly crowded) and ate and chatted with the people who sat next to us.
Which reminds me to tell you that I think the people in NY are very friendly. I've had several chats with people I've never met while standing in line, or sitting in a restaurant, or riding in an elevator.

Last night I went to a party up on the roof of my building. A woman who's become a friend was turning the big 5-0 and she invited me to her party. At 6:00 the DJ played 60's songs. At 7 he played 70's music. At 8 ...... you get it. Yes, he played 80's. And 90's at 9 and then current music from 10:00 on.
We were supposed to dress to fit our favorite decade.
I was a cross between the 60's and 70's.

I was also dressed WAY more casually than anyone else. Most of the women wore dresses. Nice dresses.
Nice dresses that didn't look like any of those decades.
So much for following instructions.

We noticed that a building across the street was hosting a fashion show on its roof. It was fun to watch.

I had a great time, even though I knew only one person and wondered if I'd have anyone to talk to.
It wasn't a problem.
I met several people who live in the building and learned about a group of women who meet daily ...... in the mornings to work out upstairs and in the evenings to just sit and chat.
Sometimes they go to a movie. Sometimes they go to each other's apartment and take turns cooking.
And they brought me into their group last night.
I'm glad.

And then, on top of all of that, 2 of the women I met are widows. One is young, in her 40's I think, and the other one is older. They've both been widowed less time than I have and both were very kind and very fun.
I look forward to getting to know them better.
: )

Tonight I am pooped.
And sore.
Very sore.
I think that's due to the fact that I schlepped my bag (see? I'm already a New Yorker ... I say "schlepped"! :) for 2 miles from the train station yesterday before I finally decided to grab a cab.
My left arm and shoulder are so sore I can barely lift that arm.

And I think I bruised my left heel from all of the walking I did over the past several days.
Lots of walking with inappropriate shoes.
Ouch.

I'm Skyping with 2 new leaders for Soaring Spirits Regional Groups tomorrow. Plus Skyping with 2 board members.
And hopefully doing laundry.
And cleaning up the apartment.
And maybe doing a little packing for my trip back to Houston on Tuesday.
The Cowboys have our first home game next weekend.
Which means I'll be heading to Oklahoma later this week.
WHOOP!!

OK, I think that's it for now.
I think I'll go to bed now.
Even if it isn't even 10:00 p.m.
New Jersey takes a lot out of a girl.
: )

Night, Peeps.
And Happy Sunday/Monday.
: )

How Is It Possible ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 04 Sep 2013 03:58:00 +0000

...... that in the last 5 years and 9 months ...... or actually, 5 years, 8 months and 17 days ......
or ...... 2,087 days ...... since Jim died ...... I have never heard this song? Not once.
Not until tonight, when I watched "America's Got Talent".
As soon as the song started I told Daughter #1 what I'm about to tell you.
And I tried not to cry.

I've listend to Garth Brooks since Jim died. Not a lot, but I've listened.
Jim loved this song. After he heard it for the first time he made a point to have me listen to it. He said it reminded him of the times he had watched me sleep ...... and thought the exact same thing.

I told him then that the answer was, "Yes".
I never expected to have to really answer it ...... to have to really live it.

But my answer remains the same.
"Yes, Jim. I know. I always did and I always will."

And I'll love you forever.

Oh.

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 28 Aug 2013 17:10:00 +0000

My.
Word.

This gave me goosebumps.
Wow!

Happy Wednesday, Peeps.
And you're welcome.
:)

P.S. Listen for the very proud Dad, who's doing the video.
Sigh ......
P.P.S. This song is a double edged sword for me. And I'm sure for most people who've lost their other half ...... their best friend.
But I mostly, absolutely love it. Especially when it's sung by amazing voices.

Start Spreading the News ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 27 Aug 2013 06:14:00 +0000

...... I'm leaving ~~today~~ tomorrow.
Yep.
I.
Am.
Out.
Of.
Here.

And going to NY. I'm counting the hours.
Daughter #3 is on her way to Houston as I write this. She and I will both fly in to NY tomorrow, though on different airlines and to different airports.
I can hardly wait.
I just wish that all 6 could be there, but then, Christmas will be here before we know it, right?
Of course right.

And just in case you don't think so ...... take a gander at these:

Yep, it's Christmas in August. I took these pictures two weeks ago in one of our local Hallmark stores. I was a bit stunned, but not too stunned to not take pictures.
Ho, Ho, Ho.

And now I digress.
While I'm writing this post, I'm also watching a movie that stars John Travolta and Robert De Niro. I really don't have to say anything else because ...... the two of them in a movie? Can you say "INTENSE"?
Oh.
My.
Word.
It's called "The Killing Season" and they keep taking turns having the upper hand and trying to kill each other.
So, where was I?
ADD much?

On another note, Daughter #3 and a friend just arrived so I had to take a break from both the movie and posting for about an hour.
And, though you can't really appreciate the time difference, I am back.

So, where was I?
I think I was telling you that I'm leaving for NY tomorrow.
And that I can't wait.

I don't know what it is about coming back to Houston (OK, maybe I do know what it is) but, every single time I come back here, I have to fight off depression. It starts to envelope me almost as soon as I come into my house. A house that I love. A home that I love. Mostly.
I love this home for the memories it holds.
I love this home because of how I've changed it.

But this home makes me sad because of the memories it holds.
It brings me stress because of the upkeep it entails.

I love this community because of the memories it holds.
I love this community because it's where we brought up our children.
I love this community because of all Jim and I gave to it.
I love this community for all of the support it gave me.

This community brings me sadness because of the memories it holds.
This community brings me sadness because of the roles Jim had in it.
This community brings me sadness because of the support I once had.
This community brings me sadness because it no longer feels like home.

If someone would have told me 5, 4 or 3 years ago that I would be straining at the bit to leave this place, I would have told them that they were crazy.
I could not have imagined being anywhere else, 5 1/2 years ago.
I could not imagined being without my friends, my source of support ..... 5 1/2 years ago.
I could not imagine EVER wanting to leave this place ...... 5 1/2 years ago.

Time has a way of changing things.
Time has a way of changing people.
For better, or for worse ...... we change.

I have changed.
For better or for worse.
Some think for worse.
But I think for better.
In the long run.

If Jim were still alive, we would've already moved from this community.
We knew that we only had a couple of more years here.
And then decisions would be made.

If Jim were still alive, I wouldn't have changed so much.
So.
Very.
Much.

But he died.
And I changed.
And I no longer feel at home where I once did.
But that's ok.
People move on.
People move forward.

I know that I'm ready to move forward.
But I don't know if that means leaving here permanently, or just for weeks at a time.
I have mixed emotions, depending on the day.
Some days I can't wait to sell this house, and leave here forever.
Some days ...... I want to come back and re-connect.

I know that God is calling me elsewhere, most days.
I know that God is using me, in ways I never imagined.
As long as He's calling the plays ...... I'm good with wherever He leads.
I think that things change, people change ...... and life moves forward ...... for a reason.
When things change, and people change ...... it's easier to move forward.
God has a plan.
He's always had a plan.

I haven't always agreed with His plan ...... and I still wish things were different ..... but they aren't.
And so I start moving forward.
Where once I saw only darkness, I can now imagine a future.
What it holds ...... I have no idea.
But I know it's there.
And I'm good with wherever it takes me.

If that's NY ..... hooray.
If that's still here, in Texas, ok.
We shall see.

But for now ...... I'll see you from the East coast.
For now.
:)

And So ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 21 Aug 2013 06:41:00 +0000

...... it happened.

Son #3 is safely ensconced in school.
I survived.
He survived.
Though I'm sure that between the two of us ...... there were doubts.

I have a tradition that I've done with every one of my children.
The night before they went off to school/the Marines.
I started it with Daughter #1.
And so it continued.

Last Thursday was the last time I would ever do it.
Last Thursday, just like all of the previous "night befores" ...... I cried while I did it.

Every single one of my six children has sat very close to me ...... just the two of us ...... while I read this to them:

If you're familiar with this book you're probably crying right now.
Aren't you?
If you're not ...... go read it.
That's all I'm going to say about that.
Except this: put a box of Kleenex next to you before you read it.

So yeah, six children sent off ...... six times I read that book aloud to them.
Six times I cried while I read it, while trying to NOT cry ...... while trying to not let each child know that I was failing at not crying.
You try it.
I dare you.

Anyway, the next morning Son #3 drove over to the frat house before I even woke up. When I did wake up and discovered that he had left I immediately texted him to ask, "What the hay?!"
It seems that all he did was drive up. His car was then emptied for him by the members who were there waiting.
I think it took all of 5 minutes.
At the most.

So he came to pick me up and take me to see the house.
Like most of the frat houses from my college days ...... it looked better downstairs than it did up.
You know ...... where the bedrooms are.
But they're boys so ...... they have simple needs.
ROFL!!

He showed me around the house and then a friend met up with us while I was helping the Son get unpacked. We got his clothes hung up (which, interestingly enough, resulted in many more items hanging in that closet than he EVER hung up at home!), his bed made (top bunk), a "floating shelf" hung (so that he had somewhere to put his phone/clock/whatever up there next to that top bunk) and we went to get a mount for his TV, so that he could hang it on the wall and see it from his bed.
And let me just add this: there are 3 other young men in that room. Two sets of bunk beds. Four people.
And three TV's.
Ummmmmm ...... yeah.

We worked to get things done until it was time for him to get ready for an event that was going on on campus. It was for all of the fraternities and sororities. It was very interesting to see them all walking across campus to this event ...... house by house, all dressed up in "business casual" (which I had to define for 2 of his room mates).
When it was time to go I walked into his closet (a huge closet for all 4 guys ..... really huge), told him that I loved him, and gave him a hug.
A very hard hug, which he returned.
Hard.
A very long hug, which he returned.
But for not as long.
I could not let go.

I've done this with 5 other children.
I've cried each time, but not so much in front of them.
I've hugged each of them hard.
And then cried hard as I walked/drove away.
But I was always able to let go.

Not this time.
Son #3 was a good sport.
He hugged hard and long.
And then he said, "OK".
I hugged longer.
And then he said, "OK".
I hugged longer and probably harder.
And then he said, "OK".

After the 3rd "OK" I let go.
And tried to not sob as I told him, again, that I loved him. Very much.
And was proud of him.
And then I walked downstairs and out of the building, with my friend.
And kept trying to not sob.
I did ok.

We went to the Student Union so that I could purchase an "OSU Mom" shirt, something I never imagined I'd one day wear ...... back in my glory years there.
Or whatever they were.
This much I know:
They were terrific.
I loved those 4 years ...... fiercely.
I treasure the memories and the friendships I made.
And the love I found.

Speaking of those friendships, I'm meeting up with several friends for dinner tomorrow night and I am SO excited.
I love these women so very much. They never fail to be excited and come out for dinner when I come to town. They make me feel very, very special.
And very, very loved.
Which is why I can never move back here.
:)
If I lived here, I wouldn't be special and we wouldn't all meet up for dinner very often. But if I visit a few times a year ...... we have a wonderful time.
I vote for wonderful.
:)

I'm staying with Vicki this week. She's had to go to work every day, which has been good because I've had to work every day, too. So we're both getting a lot done.
I did manage to sneak in a couple of hours of pool time this afternoon. But it's all good because I had Skype meetings until almost midnight.
Thankfully, I love what I do.
And am blessed to be doing it.
:)

Son #3 started classes yesterday. It seems that all is well.
We've texted a few times.
Son #2 is home, keeping the animals fed and content (I hope and pray).
I return home in a couple of days and then head to NY a few days after that.
For about 3 weeks.
I.
Am.
So.
Excited.
:)

I took Oliver to the vet and obtained sedatives for the flight.
I think they're for him.
But they may end up being for both of us. Especially if they don't work so well on him.

Speaking of my big, close-to-fat (15 lbs) cat ...... while I've been writing this post the TV has been on the History Channel.
You used to know that if you watched that channel you'd most likely learn something.
It seems that times have changed.
There have been several episodes of a show called, "The Legend of Shelby the Swamp Man".
I have no idea why the word "legend" is in the title.
It seems to center around this insane man who lives down south, near a swamp, I guess ...... and shoots a gun at things like "spirits", snakes and gators.
Ummmmm, yeah.

But here's the point I wanted to make ...... which really isn't a point as much as an observation.
He was just in a house with a woman who was helping him to rid the home of "river rats".
Oh.
My.
Word.
I'd never seen river rats before.
Now I will never live close to a river.

This house contained 4 (FOUR) of these animals. And they were HUGE!
They were much bigger than Oliver (which is what made me think of them .... writing about Oliver).
I'd say these rats were at least 30 lbs and as big as a medium sized dog.
Which begs the question ...... (actually, it begs LOTS of questions but I'll limit it to one) ...... how the heck did they get into the house (and do I even want to know the answer to that?)????
It seems the homeowners had abandoned the house until the Swamp Man could come in and ~~shoot~~ capture the varmints.
He attempted to shoot them, but the woman who was helping him wouldn't let him do that. She said that he couldn't shoot inside the house.
Bummer.

On a positive note ...... they did capture all 4 of those huge, ugly, too-gross-for-words monsters.

OK, it's now 1:35 in the morning.
I need some sleep.
And so do you if you're still with me.
:)

G'Night/G'Morning/G'Day, Peeps.
Happy Wednesday.
: )

P.S. To Max: thank you for your comment. I'd like to hear more from you, if that's possible.

Catch Up ......

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 13 Aug 2013 18:19:00 +0000

...... as in an update, not the condiment.
Because I'm sure SO many of you thought it was that.

So. Where to begin? So much is going on that it's almost too much to contain in my brain, let alone put into words that I will actually type.
(Yes, I know I'm not kidding anyone by using that as an excuse for being unable to contain things in my brain. While I thought you'd think of ketchup, I know you're too bright to swallow that line.)

Anyway, since there really is a lot going on I'm going to put it in bullet points. Only without the bullets. And no, that doesn't mean I'm not in favor of owning guns ...... or that I am. It just means that I need to use actual numbers or I'll go all ADD and forget where I ........
I hear bullets are hard to come by anyway. Ammunition shortage and all that.
Wait ...... see?

On to the numbering.

1. Son #3 and I leave for college Thursday. Nine hours in a car. Together. I'm not sure his vehicle will be able to contain the joy. Especially his.

2. No, I'm not going to college. And if you considered that for one second then you must be a brand new reader. Welcome. You might want to go look for something more cerebral now.

3. I'm trying not to think too much about the actual event of him leaving. Because it makes me cry. A little. Unless he's not reading this and then it makes me cry more than a little. I will miss him very, very much.

4. Son #2 has decided to go to "school" full time in a month or so, and so he has moved back in. Don't worry, I actually offered.

5. As long-time readers can tell ...... my mind is leaving me at a rapid rate.

6. So, though I never thought it would happen ...... and even said it would never happen (I really should never use the word never ..... don't get me started) ...... I have an adult child back with me.
Which brings me to point #7.

7. Son #1 may be moving back here at the end of the month.
I know. I'm beyond help, really.

8. Son #1 has been job-hunting for a while and may have to return here to look in the Houston area. Unless something magnificent happens in the next 3 weeks.

9. Daughter #3 will join Daughter #1 in NY at the end of the month. I'll be going up at the same time, but that's not the point of this non-bullet point. The point is ....... I will be having 4 of my 6 children living with me, when I thought I'd have none. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

10. My life is definitely not going the way I saw it going in my head (aside from the obvious "Jim died" thing, see points 4 through 9).

11. Son #2 has a cat.

13. My house has not sold and I'm seriously thinking about putting the whole thing on hold until next year.

14. I will be going back and forth between TX, NY and OK for the next three months. After about 2 of those trips I don't think I should be held liable for whatever comes out of my mouth, or off of my keyboard.

15. This is my last point. Well, the last one I'm going to make here anyway. And it involves a picture.
THIS is going to be the death of either him or me:

Yes, it's the cone of shame (he has a sore on his leg that he won't quit bothering so now it's infected. Thus, the C.O.S. was ordered by the vet). And now Koda has no sense of space. I've caught 2 lamps in mid-air. And have been gouged by the edges of that thing several times when he's tried to rub his head against my leg. I think he tried to use it as a face mask/oxygen tank in the pool. I also think that didn't work.
But whenever I start to think about death ...... his or mine ...... this is what I see:

Poor baby. Who's heart wouldn't melt under that look of complete shame and sorrow?

There you go.
15 points.
Consider yourselves caught up.
Mostly.

Happy Tuesday, Peeps.
: )