Lonely, But Finding Laughter

Oct31

Soon, it will be six months since Kenn died. It’s still so surreal to me. How can you be so full of life one minute and gone the next?! I would be lying if I said I’ve got it all together at this point. But most of the time, it is becoming a bit more bearable. One of the many difficult things is the loneliness.

A friend recently posted on Facebook something like this…

The hardest part of losing someone you love, is finding the part of you they took with them.

I read it wrong the first few times. I thought it meant ‘finding the YOU that was left behind when you became a THEM’. I really really liked being a ‘them’. I know a lot of people who are loners. I am not one of them. I do like my alone time, though. But the alone time I like is first thing in the morning. I get up, make a cup of hot tea, and read my Bible and spend some time in prayer. But the ‘alone time’ I liked was Kenn puttering in his study or playing with his trains. That was alone enough for me!

The silence is deafening at times. Our house was so full of life and laughter. I love having company over. But sometimes, after they leave, the echoes in the house of putting away dishes, taking off my shoes, the ticking clock….any noises in the house are that much more noticeable. I don’t watch a lot of TV. But, I must admit, my phone and IPad are glued to me at all times. My iPad is my source for so many things. On it, is my Bible, my Kindle, news sources, shopping, banking, word, number, and card games, weather info, etc. The TV would make some noise for the house, though. Hmm. Anyway, I’m almost always alone, and a lot of that time, lonely. I am understanding more and more why men tend to ‘jump the gun’ when finding someone new after their loss. Women tend to have more girl friends than men have guy friends. I don’t know what I would do without my friends….I thank God daily for them.

On the issue of finding someone new….as most know, Kenn and I met on Christian Mingle. I was wondering if it even still existed, as I haven’t seen or heard any advertisements for it like I did ‘back when’. I decided to take a look and, yes, it’s there. Now I’m not ready to date (don’t know if I ever will be, in fact) so I looked at it with a fake name and no picture. And, it lets you read people’s profiles and see a person’s main picture without paying. (You have to pay to see their secondary pictures or contact someone which I didn’t want to do.) One person’s profile did make me laugh, though. He said he ‘had no tattoos, no piercings, and all his own teeth’. (Am I old or what?!) Then it asks where you see yourself in five years. He said, ‘Where He leads me, I will follow. What He feeds me, I will swallow’.😁 (I couldn’t help but wonder what a man would think if he saw that on a woman’s profile!).

Another thing I noticed, is a lot of men need a woman’s help getting a picture of themselves on the site. The main picture you put on there is to show exactly what you look like. I want to show some examples of what I am talking about. Now, mind you, these may be perfectly wonderful gentlemen, and I truly hope they find someone as wonderful as I did. But their main picture…..well….I didn’t edit these….

Yep, that’s his main pic! Do ladies respond, “Hi! Saw your pic but….Uh, are you the hat or the nose???”

I think this next one might be in the witness protection program….

There were a lot of pics from the eyes—and sometimes the eyebrows—up!

And then, the last one I’m sharing….

I guess she could respond, “Hi! You have a very nice ear….”

ANYway…..if anyone out there chooses to get on a dating site, run your profile—and especially pictures—you plan on posting by a friend and see if they approve!

GOOD GRIEF?! Finding Blessings During Pain

Sep13

Grief is a weird thing. It affects everyone in a different way. Some people talk and talk about their sadness and loss, and others don’t want to even mention it. I read a book my son gave me about grief recovery. It stated that, while people are prepared for almost all events life offers us, we are sadly ill prepared for losing someone we love. It said, statistically, everyone loses a beloved pet or a loved person every 10 to 13 years. Wait…what?! In the past five years, I have lost two beloved pets, my mother, my daughter-in-law, two forever friends (well, three if you include my mother, who was one of my dearest friends besides being my mom), and now, my much loved husband. I’ve certainly beat that statistic! And that’s not even counting other losses besides death. I sure hope the good Lord will give me time off in the loss department!

Sunday will be four months since Kenn died. Funny, I thought I knew how this grief thing would work. With other loss experiences, it was mostly horrific at the beginning, then, as the days and weeks went by, it steadily got better—or more bearable—with time. And that’s how I expected this season of grief to be. Wrong!!! I had NO CLUE how different this loss would be! It has come in waves, sometimes brought on by an experience or date or circumstance, and sometimes for no known reason, like a rogue wave in the ocean. Several of my friends on Facebook posted a poem of sorts saying you can choose. One line said ‘you can choose to cry because they are gone, or you can smile because they lived.’ All of it was along these lines. I DO smile, thinking of our life together, and laugh remembering funny things Kenn said or did. But I DO cry, too—I miss him and I’m lonely without him. I would love to laugh at new, goofy things he would do. I would love to see my man child finish setting up and playing with his trains. I would love to feel one more wonderful hug from his strong arms.

I’ve heard other people’s stories of their losses. Some are young mothers, who are suddenly alone raising their children. Some are so in debt and have lost not only their mate, but their family’s main source of income. They are forced to leave their homes AND try to figure out their finances AND deal with their grief. I am blessed that my boys are grown, gainfully employed, and self sustaining. And, unless something catastrophic happens, I will always have a roof over my head (wherever that ends up being!). I am blessed to be in THE best neighborhood and belong to THE best church family! Several women in one ‘loss of spouse group’ I belong to, stated that their friends abandoned them, or seemed to feel threatened by them around their husbands. That is so foreign to me! My friends I had before Kenn died are my friends now. I am included in activities and feel very welcome by all. I am blessed with extended family who make me feel very loved—including Kenn’s family. They love me as a daughter, sister, cousin. I am blessed to have a loving Father who sometimes has to drag me through a day when I am flailing and sinking. And, I am blessed to have a loving Father who gifts me with His wonderful, unimaginable peace that passes understanding when I can’t find peace on my own.

Beginning Act 3…reluctantly

Jul23

My son told me nobody blogs anymore. Well, I guess SOMEbody does…..

May 15, 2019 began my Act 3. I’m stepping into this new act much more confused and trepidatiously than Act 2.

May 14th was a great day. Kenn and I spent the whole day together, going to Knoxville (about an hour away from our home) and we talked and laughed all day long about one thing or another. That evening, he was driving up to Ohio to go to an eye doctor visit with his mom the next morning. He wanted me to go with him but I had an appointment I didn’t want to miss. As he was leaving, he came and kissed me goodbye, and it was a long, passionate kiss. I was thinking, as he kissed me, ‘I miss you already’. When the kiss ended, he looked at me and said, “I miss you already.” I smiled and told him I was just thinking the same thing, which happened often. I would think something, then it would come out of his mouth. He told me the only reason he didn’t want to go was because he hated being away from me. I told him to come back to me as soon as he could and he said he would. We said our ‘I love yous’ and he left. And he never came back.

Early May 15th morning, he told his mom he was feeling weird around the base of his throat and thought he should get it checked out at an urgent care. Kenn NEVER went to the doctor—didn’t take one pill. He had a physical with bloodwork and an EKG less than a year before just because he was changing health insurance companies to get a lower premium. Everything was perfect. Anyway, they drove to an urgent care. They both walked to the door and it was closed. So they got back in the car and headed to the ER 12 miles away. Almost immediately, he leaned his head back and began making gurgling sounds. They were about a block away from a fire station so his mom stopped there and got EMT’s out to help. They had the very best equipment but, after shocking him at least six times, nothing worked. And just like that, my beloved was gone. On his death certificate, there is a line that says ‘interval from onset of illness until death’ and it says ‘immediate’.

I knew Kenn five years, nine months, and four days. We were married three years, three months, and nine days. I’m sure, if I tried, I could calculate it to the minute. I thought he was the most beautiful person—inside and out—to walk the face of the earth. He made me feel beautiful, respected, loved. After losing his first wife suddenly and unexpectedly, he often said we shouldn’t take one day for granted. We didn’t. Our disagreements were minor and over quickly. We were together almost all of the time, and we both liked it that way. We often told each other that home was wherever WE were. We laughed every single day. We both believed God led us to each other. So I struggle with the whys. When I’m in my most distraught moments, I pray (loudly) in my large, empty house GOD! I DON’T UNDERSTAND!!!! I know Kenn is OK….he’s where all of our souls long to be. It’s me (and all those who loved him) who I weep for.

Recently, while resting, a scripture came to me suddenly that I know so well, but has new meaning for me. I said it several times in my head, without consciously trying to, and before it dawned on me just how meaningful it was.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5,6

I don’t understand, and I may never will. But God has a plan for me. I have no idea what it is, or even where it is. I just have to trust Him to show me the way.

He Gives Me a Song

Sep1

I love to sing. Most people in my acquaintance know this about me. I remember when The Sound of Music came out. I was 9 years old. I memorized every song from the movie—I was in heaven! Our family went camping that summer, and I remember laying in our tent, belting out Climb Every Mountain, The Hills Are Alive, etc. much to my grandmother’s delight and my brother and sister’s horror! They were sure other campers nearby would start yelling at our tent to pipe down!

I am due to sing a solo at church tomorrow. I think most people, especially non singers, think I choose a song and simply get up there and let ‘er rip! But that is not the case at all! Sometimes, like tomorrow, a song has been chosen by our music director. Sometimes, I choose. Either way, beforehand, I sing, sing sing, and sing it over again many times. And I pray, pray, and pray some more. For the hearts listening to the song. That the words will touch even one heart. That I glorify God with my song. And yes, that I won’t mess up! I have found that the quickest way to have people stop listening to the words about our Lord, is to mess up. Then, our very forgiving church, start feeling bad for me and think ‘bless her heart’! I want the focus to be on God, not me.

Our music director, Missy, does the same thing. Every week. She chooses songs and directs our choir and some congregational singing. And beforehand, prays, prays, and prays some more. And sings, sings, and sings some more to make sure our song service glorifies God. I know she loves singing, but it’s a lot of work! Plus, she has a full time job during the week. Oh and choosing the songs…..that takes a lot of listening and listening and listening. I know how much work I put into a solo here and there. I can’t imagine the work and time she puts into it week after week!

I am glad God gave me the love of singing. It brings joy to my life! Most mornings, God gives me a song on my heart as I wake up. And I thank Him for letting me wake up again, then I thank Him for Kenn! Then it’s reading the Bible with a cup of hot tea. And that morning song stays with me all day. Life is good!

On Getting Old

Apr17

At what age is one considered a senior citizen? According to AARP, apparently the age is 50. For those younger than 50, you will get a rude awakening when you turn 50. In your mail, on your birthday or maybe a day later, you will get a packet from AARP asking you to join. Some restaurants have an ‘over 55’ menu. And there are numerous ‘over 55’ communities as well. The National Park Service says 62 is the magic age. In August of 2017, the lifetime Senior Pass went from $10 to $80 for U.S. residents over the age of 62. Of course, Medicare says it’s 65, while Social Security says you begin being a senior at 62.

I googled ‘At what age is a person considered a senior citizen?’ Here’s the response.

65
Some dictionaries define “senior citizen” as a person over the age of 65. In everyday speech, the term is often shortened to “senior.” In legislation, the term applies to the age at which pensions, social security or medical benefits for the elderly become available.

Ok, that ‘elderly’ word bothers me a bit. I may be approaching the last age I can find for senior citizenry, but doggone it, I’m not elderly!

I am 62 years old. I have never minded telling my age and found it odd when people do. I would much rather say I’m 62 and take the chance that people will think I look 55 than lie and say I’m 50 and people think I look 55!

And that’s another thing. I still care what people think about me. It doesn’t rule or ruin my life, but I still care. I always thought you lose that as you age—the giving a flip about what people think. I’ve read on Facebook several people saying something to that effect. Maybe I still have some aging to do!

Oh, but I DO notice the aging in other ways.
Old people always talk about how fast time goes. And wow, am I there! I look at young mothers, struggling with their children. Many times, I go to them and tell them they will be amazed, when they get to my side of motherhood, just how fast their little ones grow up. I love my life now, but I get a lot of joy remembering my boys when they were little. I adored being a mother! Now, I look forward to being a grandmother.

And oh, what getting old has done to this body of mine! At any given time, I could (I try not to, by the way!) tell you what hurts beginning from my neck
—sometimes my head—down to my toes, stopping MANY times in between. My joints sound like I need a lube job and my eyesight is failing. I have reading glasses all over the house so they are always nearby.

And losing weight. I wish I did not (or should not) care about that, but I do, and I should. It’s hard. A lot harder than when I was young. I remember when my stomach was a little poochy, I could skip a supper and the next morning, have a very flat stomach. Now, if I forget to eat a meal, I am convinced I am coming down with something! One change in that regard is I really do care about the health benefits of losing weight now. But the vanity thing still creeps in occasionally.

And my memory! I’ve always been a note taker, but now it’s essential. I remember my former mother-in-law saying that she kept a notepad by her chair. She said, before she stood, she would jot down the reason she was getting up just in case she forgot during the process of getting up! I haven’t gotten THAT bad, thank the Good Lord.
But I’m not elderly. Yet.

Planes, Trains, Automobiles…and Ships

Mar4

I have a bucket list. On it, are things all the way from working in a soup kitchen to writing a novel to being a ‘one hit wonder’. Some of them are attainable and some will be miraculous if I get to do them! But I got to mark three of them off my list the past few weeks!

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For the past year, Kenn and I have been planning a fantastic 15 day, Panama Canal cruise—one of my bucket list items. The cruise left Los Angeles, California on February 4th and arrived in Fort Lauderdale, Florida on February 19th. We visited a couple of cities in Mexico, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Columbia, and Aruba. Of course, the big event was traversing the Panama Canal. It was amazing!

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But first things first. Those of you who know Kenn know of his love affair with trains. We decided to begin our epic trip by flying to Seattle and catching the Coast Starlight train and riding it down to Los Angeles. We began our train journey at 9:45 AM one day and ended it at 11:30 PM the following day. We decided to reserve a roomette for sleeping. Well, the roomette was three feet by six feet, roughly the size of a double phone booth on its side. There were two chairs facing each other, that turned into a bed at night. Then there was a bunk bed that folded down. Kenn slept in the bunk and he was so close to the ceiling, he could not sleep on his side, only on his back. Kenn is 6’2”. He felt like he was sleeping in a coffin! Needless to say, he didn’t get much sleep. The train itself was enjoyable, with a nice observation car, dining car, and no wrecks, derailments, and such. Some pretty scenery was seen along the way, but lots of homeless and tent towns were seen, also. We did have one breakdown, with one of our two engines deciding to quit. That put us two and a half hours late into LA, with our scheduled 9 PM arrival turning into 11:30 PM. We may do another train ride in the future, but we will certainly make some adjustments.

Three days later, we began our cruise. Our first stop was in Puerto Vallarta. We took a snorkeling and beach excursion and while riding on the boat, we saw at least a dozen whales spouting, swimming, diving, and breaching. Whale watching was another bucket list item. It was awesome!

Those that know me know I love to sing. So it’s no surprise that I decided to do karaoke on the ship. Their karaoke event had a cute name….the Voice of the Ocean. At least I THOUGHT it was a cute name. Turned out Princess cruise line bought the rights to The Voice, with coaches in revolving chairs with big buttons and all. I wasn’t singing karaoke, I was auditioning for The Voice of the Ocean! Immediately I was wishing I hadn’t done it, but I ended up making the ‘show’. That really wasn’t that hard to do, given that not too many people tried out. Seven of us had three rehearsals with the ship’s wonderful band and the show was on the final night of the cruise in the big theater. It was a little nerve wracking but I met some wonderful people. In the end, I actually won! And I was famous for a good 12 hours…..until I got off the ship. Kenn recorded my song and ran out of storage on his phone halfway through the song. He pulled out my phone and got most of the rest of my song. Then, while he was recording the winner announcement, the cruise director was building the suspense, intense music was playing…..she finally says dramatically, “I can now tell you the winner IS…..” storage full. I kid you not!!! No more phones to use so we rely on memories!

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I checked off another bucket list item. Who would have guessed that I would be a one hit wonder before I worked in a soup kitchen!

February 2nd—Five Years!

Feb2

February 2nd. Groundhog Day, etc. etc. So today is the fifth anniversary of my ‘new adventure’! Last year at this time, I was trying to come to terms with my sweet mother’s mortality. Little did I know she would leave this earth less than two months later. I miss her every day.

As I ponder these past five years, it seems like my losses tally up higher than my pluses.

In five years, I lost two dear friends—my two Judys. I lost both daughters-in-law—one to divorce and one to death. I lost Krystal. Lost Momma.

I also began a new single life, sold three homes, bought two new ones, and moved to a new state. And I am soon getting a wonderful new daughter-in-law!

My biggest gain is a wonderful new life with a wonderful new husband. He is so kind, gentle, and easy going. He makes me feel like a million bucks and makes me laugh every single day. It also helped that Momma adored him! Kenn and I both feel that God led us to each other. Every morning, when I wake up, I thank God, first, for letting me wake up, and then for bringing Kenn into my life.

Five years ago I had no clue what my future looked like. This thing called life brings good and bad, happy times and sad times. But I knew that God would be with me every step of the way. He never left me, of that I have no doubt!

2018– bring it!!!

Trying To Come Out of the Closet

Jul28

I am not a great housekeeper. I’m not a terrible one, but not a very good one. I remember visiting with a friend when I lived in Atlanta. As we were talking, I was inwardly marveling at her kitchen. The only thing on top of ANYthing was a tea kettle on her stove top. That’s it. No toaster, coffee maker, knick knacks, things on top of fridge……nothing. Her coffee table in the family room? Empty. Everything was spic and span. How do people live like that?! Don’t get me wrong. I really like a clean house. Give me a 15 or 20 minute notice, and I can get my home looking pretty spiffy for you. There are just a lot of things I would much rather do than getting it that way.

However, I have come to a realization. I am a closet OCD person. Literally. I am an organized person…..behind closed doors. My clothes are hung, not only by type and color, but in the order of the rainbow colors.

Once, while looking at a beautiful rainbow, I jotted down the order of the colors. The next time I went into my closet, I realized I had the colors out of order, so I changed it all around.

My pajamas are divided into summer and winter PJs, and rolled so I can see every pair when I open my drawers.

My undies are the same way, with them folded and stacked with like kinds and colors. (No picture here!)

My kitchen gadget drawer is organized so I know exactly what is where.

And my spice and baking cabinet is the same.

When I lived in Atlanta, I had drinking glasses that had little flowers on them to match my dishes. All the flowers had to face outward in the cabinet and drove me crazy if they were turned another way.

With all that being said, why does my coffee table often look
like this???

And I would love to blame it on Kenn, but that’s just not the case! I talked to a friend who is a professional housecleaner and she said that in her experience, with a few exceptions, people are one of two ways. Either they are super tidy but heaven help you if you open one of their closets/drawers/etc., or they are a bit messy and everything out of sight is organized.

I, for one, would love to come out of the closet and be both organized AND tidy. I’m just not sure it’s in my DNA!

It’s The Little Things

Apr1

As most, if not all, of you know, my sweet Momma left this earth Monday, March 20, 2017. Since then, I have replayed the last few months over and over again in my mind.

In general, I am not much of a crier. I know people who, upon seeing one tear roll down someone’s face, will burst into tears. I can get deeply moved by someone, whether in person, in a movie, or reading about them, and not leak. Sometimes I do tear up, but most of the time, I do not.

Losing my parents is a totally different story. When Daddy died, it was such a shock. He had a stomach virus one day, or so we thought, and he was gone the next. Not one day went by for over a month that I stayed dry faced. I am finding the same thing happening to me now.

Every day, around 11 AM, my iPad would ring for a FaceTime call. The silence at 11 makes me get wet eyed. I unpacked my overnight bag a couple of days ago, and realized it had lived behind my vanity chair in the bathroom, partially packed, since November. Putting it away in the closet made the tears come. Remembering how Momma loved the view from our decks, how she gushed about any little change I had done in my house and made me feel like the best decorator in the world, how she and Kenn would tease and pick at each other and the laughter that would follow. Realizing I am now an orphan. I want to tell her about the storm we had that knocked power out for many hours and knocked a tree down on a moving car, about the terrible fire in Atlanta that shut down the interstate that we drove on so often, that Casey is losing his hearing and is ravenous one day, and doesn’t care to eat much the next day, that we have bluebird eggs in one of our nest boxes. I want to ask her what arthritis feels like because two of my knuckles are hurting and I don’t know why.

I have little nigglings of guilt, too. I wish I had stayed the last time I was in Texas when Mom was alive. I would have liked to hold her hand and pat her face and tell her everything was ok. While I was very conscious of being patient with her as her memory was going, I wish I hadn’t gotten annoyed when she called the third or fourth time in a day, usually to tell me something she had already told me many times before. Even though I don’t think I let her see my annoyance (or I hope not), I wish the feeling wasn’t there in the first place. I wish she had let me take her to France. I think she would have enjoyed it, since she was 100% French. We discussed it several years ago and I urged her to consider it. But I think the idea of the two of us being in a foreign land scared her.

I know that time heals. God obviously knew what He was doing by putting our lives in a timeframe while He lives in none. Many years ago, I got my parents to fill out a book about their lives, as I did my grandmother before them. It’s my generation’s turn to fill them out. I remember the day when I could reread Grandma and Daddy’s book and smile instead of cry. I look forward to that day with Momma’s book. In time.

My Mother’s Many Names

Mar18

Her name is Mary. No middle name, just Mary. Her grandkids and great grandkids call her Mema and her nieces and nephews call her Nanny. My sister, Gayle, calls her Mother. My brother, Barry, calls her Momma. I call her Momma most of the time, but also Mom, Mother, Maa, and…..as so many people who have come and gone….. I call her my friend.

No matter what name people call her, she is a bright spot in our lives. When people tell me that I am so much like her, it makes me so happy! She decided a long time ago that she was NOT going to be a grumpy old person and would be a fun grandma. Her grandkids can attest to that! She loves to laugh, and has the gift of being able to laugh at herself. She’s not perfect, but she never pretends to be. She taught me to be a good mother, love life, and, most importantly, to love our Lord.

The beginning of November, Mom lived alone, drove herself around town, and talked to me on FaceTime every single day, as we had done for many years. We talked on the phone every day before that, for at least 30 years. Four short months later, she is in hospice care, totally non responsive with a gastric tube in place. During those four months, she has been diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, had a compression fracture in her back, a hairline fracture in her hip, broken the top of her left leg, gotten blood clots in her left leg, had a stroke affecting her right side and possibly her vision, and has had numerous seizures. I felt as though I was losing my mother in pieces. And until the past week, I lived in this fantasy world where I thought she would rally……she would sit up, smile, chat with us all. And start calling me on FaceTime again. I’ve always said I am an optimist to a fault. That ‘to a fault’ part is smacking me in the face.

But, to end on an optimistic note (of course!), although I am a wreck at times these days, my mother has had very few moments of discomfort. And, as He has shown during numerous catastrophic times in my life, God will get me….as well as my dear mother, Momma and friend…..through this.

Belinda…ACT II

Starting over…in a new and faraway land!