Stable ……

…… does not mean the same thing as stability.
At least to me.
And since I’m the one writing this, dear reader, we’re going with my definition.

Stable, to me, has a sense of instability within it, ironically. Something, or someone, that is stable, could …… at any moment …… become unstable.
How many of us thought our loved one was “stable”, only to find out that, suddenly, he/she was anything but?

Stability feels more long term. Granted, not forever. Or anything near that. But more firm than stable.

My father is what I consider to be stable. He’s holding his own and is not deteriorating as quickly as “they” predicted.
Which is a good thing.
Of course.

But it also means that I need to return home.
For now.
He doesn’t need anyone 24/7 and I need to get out of here before I lose my mind/go stir crazy.
There are only so many shows you can watch about Alaska /tuna/crabs/car restoring/Yukon Men/Mountain Men/car-motorcycle racing/Surviving the wilderness before blowing a gasket.
Seriously.

So …… I need a break.
And maybe he does, too.

Because he’s stable.
For now.

And now to stability.
I’ve decided that I need it.
Seriously.
I’m tired of trying to live in two places.
Two very different places.
I can’t really live fully or put down roots if I’m not living somewhere full time.
So I’ve come to a decision.
It was a difficult one.
And yet it wasn’t.

I’m going to sell my Texas house/s and mostly everything in it and move to New York.
Full time.
It’s where my heart is.
Well, much of my heart.

Of course I’ll miss seeing my Texas kids as often and will miss seeing J Bear on an almost daily basis …… HUGELY.
But I can be in Texas in three hours when I fly from NY.
And I plan to visit often.

It feels like it’s time to live for me.
Because life is short, damnit.
And I want to live fully.
While I can.

The hardest part …… and the thing I really don’t look forward to …… is selling/getting rid of everything in my house.
I did downsize when I moved to Waco. But that downsizing was nothing compared to what I need to do to move to NY.
It almost makes me hyperventilate.

It will mean more than just getting rid of furniture, appliances, kitchen stuff, etc.

It means parting with many things that I’ve kept for sentimental reasons. Things that “we” had/shared.
It means going through photo albums/music albums/books/travel momentos/framed pictures/paintings/scrap books/all things sentimental …… and purging most of it.

And right now …… I can’t even.

I think I’ll head to bed now.
Unfotunately, these days …… very much like the months after Jim died …… it’s the one thing I look forward to each day.
Sigh ……

It’s time to find/make some stability.

P.S. Anyone want to buy a baby grand player piano?
Heavy sigh ……

Thirty Four ……

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…… years ago today we were married, Jim.
Thirty four!!
I should be teasing you about being so old now.
But you’ll never be old.
You’re frozen in time at 47.
Fair?
Nope.
But it is what it is.

I had an apartment full of kids this weekend, which is always wonderful. This visit was no different.
J-Bear really saw NY for the first time. He’s been here several times but this was his first visit to really “see” things. And he seemed to have a blast. He was exhausted in the evenings, if that’s a clue. I wish you were here to have carried him on your shoulders through Times Square. Or Central Park.
He loves the Park.

We walked all over the city, saw a few shows, ate some great food, and just enjoyed spending time together.

The worst thing about having the kids visit? Watching them leave. But you knew that because you felt that way, too, when the girls would leave after a visit from college.
Daughter #3 and her hubby were the last to go. I decided to go see a movie before they left so that I wouldn’t be the one left alone in the apartment.
It’s the little things that help.

I’ve been emotional for a week.
I’m guessing that I brought a lot of that with me from Oregon.
Do you know that my father is dying? Are you aware of that up there?
Do you know that I’m trying my best to be there for him, to help him if/when he needs it?
Do you know that it feels like it’s slowly killing me inside?
I decided to extend my stay in NY so that I can just have some time to myself before I head back.
I also decided (with the help of Daughter #1, God bless her) to head back to Texas after her visit in July. That gives me a set date and something to look forward to.
It’s exhausting, draining, sad, and horrible to just sit with someone …… not knowing when something will change. Not knowing if tomorrow will be worse than today.
Just …… not knowing.

That doesn’t mean that I won’t go back, it just means that I emotionally/physically can’t stay in that kind of atmosphere for an indeterminate amount of time.

So today should be our anniversary.
My heart hurts.

Today is my father’s birthday.
That, too, makes my heart hurt.

I do remember all that we had, Jim …… the good along with the bad. We were blessed to have so much good.
And so I do focus on that when this day comes around, when you’re birthday comes, the kids’ birthdays, etc.
I do.
I was beyond blessed to have you for as long as I did. I will never stop thanking God for the gift of you.
I don’t expect, nor do I want (at this point in time) to have that with anyone else. I’m good.
Truly.

Or, I thought I was until this past Thursday, when I took D#2 to see Josh Groban (her celebrity crush) in “The Great Comet of 1812”. I was enjoying it more this second time …… until I notice during intermission that Katie Couric was sitting in front of me. With her husband. The husband she married in the not-so-distant past after being widowed for a couple of decades.
I could no longer focus on the show.
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They held hands through the rest of the show, sometimes both hands.
They smiled, laughed and giggled secretly together.
They enjoyed each other.
They truly love each other.
You can see it in their eyes.
And man, do I miss that look.
And holding those hands.
Telling those jokes.
Whispering to you.
Just sitting next to you.
Knowing you’re there.

I cried through the rest of the show, knowing that the people next to me thought I was bonkers.

And when it was over, I hesitated but then gathered my courage …… and I tapped Katie on the shoulder. She looked at me with uncertainty for a moment and then moved in closer so that I could whisper in her ear.
“I just want you to know that, speaking personally, you give widowed people hope.”
She pulled back so that she should see me, see the tears running down my face and then said, “I’m so sorry”.
“Yeah, me, too. But thank you for this, and him (pointing to her husband)”
“Life does go on.”, she said. I nodded and smiled.
“Yes. Yes, it does.”

So Happy 34th, Jim.
I love you so.
My life is moving forward.
In most ways.

I miss you tons,

Janine

An Invisible ……

…… woman.

I’ve discovered that’s exactly what I am.
And I don’t think I’m alone.

Before I continue I need to state that this is not a “woe is me” piece.
It is what it is.
And I think it’s probably been this way for decades.
Or longer.
At least in our society.

If you’re a male under the age of, oh …… 80, then you don’t know what I’m talking about.
And most likely, if you’re a female under a certain age (and that age is a sliding scale, depending on how much work you’ve had done, how attractive you are and any other things you do to hide the effects of getting older) then you also don’t know what I’m writing about.

But the rest of you, and you know who you are …… you get it.
Women become invisible.
And not in a good way.

I decided to let my hair grow into its natural color this year.
It’s now mostly silver.
Which is a nice way of saying grey.
I just felt like I was pretending and I was tired of that.
And also tired of the upkeep, not to mention the cost.

I know that it makes me look older.
And I’m mostly ok with that.
Or maybe I just thought I was.
Back before I realized that I’m invisible.

I’m not seen by people who walk past me.
I’m not noticed by people who stand right in front of me.
Especially if I’m next to a young, beautiful woman.
Completely unseen.

Now, I’ve never been what I consider to be beautiful.
I’ve never really stood out in that way.
And while at times I may have been wistful about that when I was younger, it really wasn’t someething that I thought a lot about.

And once I met Jim …… I never felt inviisible.
At least not to him, and that’s what counted.
I think maybe that was something that I took for granted.
Being seen.
I imagine most of us do.
No one ever told me that becoming invisible is a fact of life.
They don’t teach that in middle school health class.
Maybe they should.
Maybe we should be warned that being seen has a shelf life.
Or maybe we wouldn’t pay attention to the warning anyway.

I’m not sure what I wanted to accomplish by writing this.
Except to say that it exists.
And to make people aware.

Notice the people around you.
Take a moment to really look.
You can see them if you try.
And being seen can make a difference.

Because …… while being invisible might sound cool when you’re five ……
it kind of sucks when you’re ten times that age.

Forever and a Day ……

IMG_0038…… is how long it seems since I last posted.
Usually, when there’s not too much going on in my life …… I find it difficult to post.
And then there are other times.
The times that require too much of me to even begin to think of a title of a post, let alone write a few paragraphs.

So here we are.
It’s been quite some time. The last time I posted I caught you all up with my comings and goings in NY.
I really, truly, need to move to NY full time. Life is much simpler there.

The week before I was to head back to Texas I received several frantic texts and a few phone calls from Daugter #2. The time differencee is only an hour, but depending upon how late you stay out the night before …… that hour can make a huge difference.
We finally connected.
It seems that poor J-Bear had slipped and fallen on the floor (nothing more exciting than that) and broken his femur.
Yes. His femur.
What the what???
Of course they did full body xrays to see if there have been other breaks in the past, but nothing showed up. Which is a huge sigh of relief to any parent, adoptive parent or foster parent.
His bones looked good. His break was just a fluke.
And of course I was not in town to be of assitance.
Luckily for J, our local hospital has no pediatric ortho doc so they loaded him and D#2 in an ambulance and took them to another town. He loves to tell you about the ambulance ride.
At that hospital he was put into a cast that went around his waist and down his left leg …. to his ankle. His foot was set at a 45 degree angle.
And then the fun began!

D#2 took off one week of work to stay home with J.
Then D#3 took off a week from her job in Austin and came to Waco to watch him.
(Day cares don’t seem to like these kind of casts …… and who can blame them?).
And then it was my turn.

I flew out of NY, flush with the memories of all good things on Broadway (GO SEE “DEAR EVAN HANSEN” or you will regret it for the rest of your life!!).
I flew back to Waco to take over the last two weeks of cast-wearing.
Or so I thought.

Now let me just say up front …… that I love my grandson fiercely. Exactly as I loved my children. Fiercely. Ferociously. With an Agape love that will never change. Now you need to note that an Agape love is not a love that condones misbehavior, foul deeds, stuff like that. It’s not a love that says, “I will love you and support you no matter what you do.”
No.
An Agape love is a forever love. I will always love you. No matter what.
But ……. I will not condone, excuse, make exceptions for your behavior. Your behavior is yours.
But love is forever.
There’s a difference.
For those of you who don’t get that, feel free to message me to talk more about it.

So back to the 2 year old.
I love that boy fiercely.
But MAN!!! That can he drive me crazy! He’s two. He’s a professional.
And for that, I have to give him respect. ūüôā

Fortunately, he’s getting closer to being 3. His personality shines forth now and he is mostly hilarious. When he’s not mad at you. Actually, he’s even more hilarious then, which makes him even madder.

He and Gracie have a love/hate relationship. Which means that when one loves the other, the other hates him/her.
They are JUST like siblings! They actually bicker and fight. No kidding. I’ll have to record it sometime.
It drives me nuts.

But, for the most part, the two last weeks of his cast went pretty well. We went for walks, visited the zoo, visited the neighbors, and watched way too much Daniel Tiger. At 2:00 in the morning I still wake up to strains of “What Do You Do When You’re Scared”.
Sigh …….

Then came the day when J got his cast removed.
If only it were as simple as that sentence.
We tried to prepare him with the sounds and actions of the saw as it would cut into his cast.
We thought we did a good job.
Ha!
When it came time to cut the cast off, his screams far outshone the sound of the saw.
Daughter #2 held him down and talked to him closely to his face as he cried and screamed, “Mommy! Mommy!” in a blood-curdling way. I held his legs down and helped the saw tech by moving the diaper out of the way and the other leg.
And then …… about 2 minutes in, when J realized that his mother was of no use to him …… he screamed out, “GIIIIIIIII GIIIIIIIII!”
Several times.
My heart broke into a million pieces because there was nothing I could do to get him out of that situation.
I bent down to his face, cuddled him as best I could, and tried to reassure him that it was almost over.
I have no doubt that he will never trust Gigi again.

Oh well.
So the cast was off! Hooray!! Yippee!!
But ……. he couldn’t walk. Which meant that he would not be able to return to daycare.
Which meant that Gigi would still be on duty. Sigh ……

In the meantime …… I’d been trading calls with my father, who lives in Oregon and who I don’t get to see all that much.
He’d been in the hospital a couple of times with some worrisome symptoms and now he had a diagnosis.
Stage 4 Lung Cancer.
AKA: Mesothelioma
Thank you to the U.S. Navy for the work that he did that will now end up killing him.

It seems that this horrendous disease moves quickly. Way too quickly. After speaking with him a couple of times I realized that I needed to go see him sooner, rather than later.
So I took care of J for 3 and a half days and then flew to Oregon, the state of my birth.
And here I have remained for the past week or so.

This is never something that anyone of us sees ourselves doing, I dare say.
My father is 77. Too young to be told that he will probably be dead in 2 months.
I can’t keep up.

The hopice guy came over to see him a couple of days ago and they really like each other. They have a lot in common, other than this death thing.
They chatted for a while and then Mr. Hospice asked if my father had a walker (he thought he had) but my father shook his head. He said, “That’s ok, I’ll order one. We’ll also need to get a portapotty to put beside your bed. And then a hospital bed which will help you breathe easier.
My father asked, “When do you forsee all of this happening?”
Mr. Hopsice: “A couple of months.”

Holy Shit.

How do you get past the thought that right at this very moment …… you can do whatever you want? Yeah, you might get short of breath, but you’re still in control, for the most part.
To …… in two months you’ll be bed-ridden and totally helpless?

This.
Sucks.
So.
Much.

My father and I have never been close. I didn’t even know him until he came back into my life when I was 14.
There have been sporadic visits and the usual cards.
But this wasn’t the Dad who raised me.
This wasn’t a man that I really knew.

We’ve kept in touch over the years and I’ve come up for visits here and there. Fortunately Son #1 has come with me on a couple of visits so he’s been able to learn a bit about this side of the family.

I think that most of my children will come up here this summer to reaquaint themselves with their grandfather and say goodbye.
I’m proud of them for that.

I have a sister up here who I didn’t grow up with, but whom I still love. And I love her precious children as much as I love my other nieces and nephews.

I tried to explain this to her, as well as to my father.
I’m not sure why I’m here.
Except for this.
He is alone..
No one should be alone at such a time as this.
My life, at this point, allows me the time and flexibility to be here.
For him.
And maybe for me.

I would hate to think that anyone would be alone at a time like this.
And if I can help it …… he won’t.
So here I am.
I hope that when my turn comes …… I won’t be alone.

Yes, there’s more to write. Like how Gracie got poisoned by cannabis and I had to rush her to the ER Vet, but that story will come later.
Suffice it to say that she is all better and I am 1,000% relieved.
Yesterday was a very scary day/night for me and I’m not sure how I would’ve handled a tragic outcome.

But I didn’t have to.
So yay for that.

I will be going to NY in a couple of weeks for a short visit, to celebrate my girls’ birthdays and see some shows, but then I’ll be back in Oregon.
For as long as it takes.
All prayers, positive thoughts, good wishes, etc. are appreciated.

Dead Umbrellas, Shows and ……

…… a Houdini dog.

That about sums up most of the last few weeks here in NY and in side trips.

Here, in no particular order, are the shows I’ve seen:

I love Kevin Klein and he did a great job in this. It’s only on a limited run.
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This …… this is THE most HILARIOUS play I’ve ever seen! I will most likely see it again. And maybe again. If you’re planning a trip to NY and want to see a play … this can’t be beat.
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This was ok.
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This is a musical that will soon be impossible to buy tickets for. Kind of like Hamilton. I hadn’t planned on seeing it when I came, because it sounded kind of hokey to me. Then I remembered that Hamilton also sounded hokey to me. And so I bought a ticket. And Oh. My. Word. I loved it. It’s great.
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This was a fun day with my friend Beth. We were in the audience for Harry. He’s a lot of fun and is so cute. His daughters were in this show. It airs May 8th. Beth and I sat in the very back. Good luck finding us.

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This was good. I’m glad I saw it but I wouldn’t see it again (the true test of how much I love a show.)
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This was, of course, terrific. I mean, it’s Bette Midler. How can you go wrong? She did a terrific job. It’s also a limited run, and difficult to see, but well worth the effort if you can.
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And here’s a special note/secret that not a lot of people know. ¬†See that sign down there? ¬†It has Bette Midler’s name above the name of the show, “Hello, Dolly”. ¬†Well, here’s the secret …… if you buy a ticket to a show that has the star’s name above the name of the title, and for whatever reason that star cancels his/her performance for your date, you can get your money back for your ticket. ¬†It’s not a very common billing, but it does happen for big stars. ¬†But again, they have to be billed above the title of the show.
You’re welcome.IMG_6507.jpg

I have saved the best for last. This was beyond amazing. Or rather ……. Glenn Close was beyond amazing. She was fabulous times a thousand. She will win the Tony award, word. She originated this role 23 years ago and won the Tony back then. She’ll win it again. Trust me. This is only on for a few months. If you can see it ……. do. Just for her.
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And this …… well, this is tied for the best for last. It will be around for awhile, though it will soon be sold out for the foreseeable future. It gave me goosebumps …… and that was just the first act. I loved it. If my children were young again (12 and up) I’d take them to see it, too. It’s not only wonderful beyond words, it’s very, very important.
See it if you can. As soon as you can.
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One day I went on a tour of four homes in uptown NY. ¬†They all happen to be smack dab in the middle of the city, though they don’t exactly fit in their locale. ¬†One is a farmhouse, one is Alexander Hamilton’s home that he built uptown because “it’s quiet uptown”. ¬†The other two are mansions.
Here are several pictures:

Here are a couple of shots from Times Square and the Colbert theatre. ¬†They’ve changed the sign since he took over from Letterman.

Here’s a strange Trump truck that was going from Times Square to my building and back again, while playing loud music. It was obnoxious, to say the least.
To each his own.

Here’s J-bear, in the hospital after breaking his femur. He spent the night and day in while they ruled out any brittle bone problems and just decided he’s a 2 year old and 2 year olds break bones. His cast goes around his waist/hips and down his leg. Poor J. Poor Daughter #2.
The upside? #1. He only has to have the cast on for 4 weeks. And #2. He got to ride in an ambulance from the first hospital to the second, which he thought was pretty cool.
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This is one of the most hilarious sights I’ve seen here. It makes me think of clown cars.
Hmmmm ….
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Last week it rained a couple of days in a row. And with the rain came wind, but with a capital W. Wind. Actually, WIND!!! When the wind blows up here it beats that Oklahoma plain wind all to pieces.
And after such rain/wind storms you can find dead umbrellas all over the city. Yep, dead. It’s a sad, sad sight.
Look closely at the last picture and see how many dead umbrellas you can find in it.

And now, last but not least, are some pics from my last Mom’s Day at OSU with Son #3. We had a great weekend. I watched him play Beer Die, climb into a hammock about 6′ off of the ground (no easy feat), ate dinner at a Japanese hibachi place, where he and his fraternity brother took turns tossing and cracking eggs, and played pool at Willie’s, where Garth Brook first sang in Stillwater back in the day. It was a very fun weekend.

One last story …… Gracie and I flew back to NY yesterday. She was in a kennel under my seat. About 1/2 way into the flight I was engrossed in a movie. So engrossed that I didn’t notice that there was a commotion in the aisle (I was in the window seat). Then a flight attendant got my attention by flailing her arms up and down. I saw her, took out my earbuds and looked at her. She pointed down, in the aisle. And there, much to my surprise, was Gracie. Bouncing around all over the aisle, having a great time greeting fellow passengers.
The most hilarious thing about this was that the guy next to me (on the aisle) was having a minor conniption fit squealing, “Don’t let it touch me! Don’t let it touch me!” I kid you not. I was trying not to guffaw in his face. I wanted to say, “She’s a freaking 4 pound dog. What do you think she’s going to do to you?!”
The flight attendant was reassuring him that she was in no way going to hurt him. I managed to get her to come back to me and then put her back in her kennel. I have no idea how she escaped, but I was pretty proud of her Houdini-ness.
Every time I thought of it the rest of the flight, I laughed out loud. She was hilarious. She had a great time and seemed very proud of herself. I wish that I had paused to take pictures/video, but I didn’t think the flight attendant would think that was appropriate. Even though she found it all pretty humorous, too. Especially with my seat-mate hyperventilating. Weenie.

OK, I think that’s a boat load of entertainment. I hope that you enjoyed it.
I’ll be in NY for a few more days and then head back to Waco on Thursday.
I have mixed feelings about leaving, but I’ll be glad to see J-Bear again. I get to take care of him for the next two weeks since his daycare won’t take him with the cast.
Weenies.

It’s Been a Long Time ……

…… since I’ve written a post, and I’m not sure why. I think this is the longest I’ve ever gone between posts.

Part of it is because I haven’t felt that I’ve had anything to say. Life has been going on …… nothing spectacular, but nothing horrible, either.
Mostly.

A family member is very sick, and today he had a heart attack, but he was conscious, which is good. So there’s that. I try not to let the sadness in all of the time, but it’s there.

The kids are all doing well. The grandson is fabulous. Waco has been good. Lonely, but good.

I’m in NY now, so that’s great.
But it, too, feels lonely.
I’m keeping busy, so it’s not that.
It’s …… missing him.
I’m really missing Jim more right now …… and I’m trying to figure out why.
I mean, I miss him every day, don’t get me wrong.
But tonight there are tears with the missing of him.
That doesn’t occur all that often anymore.

So I sit and ponder the date for a bit. It’s March so that’s not it. Nothing huge ever happened in March with us.
It’s not NY.
It’s not Waco, although I often feel sad that he’s not here for J-bear to know. And that he’s not here to love being a grandpa.
More tears.

Sometimes there’s no explanation.
The missing is just there.
Bigger than other times.
Hurting more sometimes.
Lonelier most times.

God, I miss that man.IMG_6278

I Feel Ugliness ……

…… raising its head from deep within my heart.
It came out of nowhere, like a sword cutting into me.                          
It came so quick, so deep, so painful that I feel overwhelmed. ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† And so I do what I’ve learned to do when I’m overwhelmed, with tears flowing down my face. ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†
I write.

I was minding my own business this morning.  I fixed myself a cup of coffee, settled down on the sofa and picked up my phone to check my emails, texts and FB thread.                  
And there it was.  
On Facebook.
Out of the blue.                                                                                  
A post by a friend whose husband died the week before Jim. ¬†We haven’t kept up with each other, except through FB, but it was still a shock. ¬†One that I didn’t see coming. ¬†Nor, evidently did a lot of her FB friends. (Which is perfectly fine, in my opinion.)

She’s married.

That one small post took my breath away.  Literally.                          
It truly felt like a knife in the heart.
As I sat there, staring at my phone, trying to control my breathing, trying not to cry, I wondered, “Why?”.
Not why did she get married.
Why do I feel this way?
Where is this deep, stabbing pain coming from?
Why in the world does my heart feel like it’s turning green and then black?
What is going on??

I put my phone down and tried busying myself with other things …… but my brain kept going back to that post.
And my heart kept feeling ugly.

Don’t get me wrong (though that would be very easy to do because I, myself, feel very insane right now) …… I’m happy for her. Very happy.
I’m glad that she’s found love again. She had a wonderful husband who died way too young from a horrific disease, leaving her to raise their 5 children.
Of course, I felt a connection with her.

Where was this pain coming from?

So, here I am …… sitting at my computer, pouring my emotions out onto a keyboard like I have so many times before.
Only this feels a lot like the early days.
The days when all I could do is cry and write.
Write and cry.

I had decided that another marriage is not in the cards for me.
Why?
Well, most of me doesn’t want one.
After being in two relationships I didn’t want to be in another.
And really, it was the second one that did me in.
That’s the one that, to this day, makes me feel nauseous if I get a rare email from an online dating service.
I hate them with a passion and can’t delete them fast enough.
So yeah, there’s that.

I travel a lot.
I do a lot. Sometimes.
I do what I want. Most times.
I live in two cities.
I don’t see a man fitting into this life.

Could this life change …… for the right man?
Yes.
But …… do I want it to?
Ahhh …… there’s the rub.

Do I want to be in another relationship?
Not an easy question to answer.
It’s not just a no.
It’s not just a yes.

If I thought that God would give me a man “like” Jim, I’d jump at that.
I think.
Not like Jim, exactly.
But like Jim in that he’s a Godly man, knows how to treat a woman, knows how a Christian man treats a woman and loves me in spite of myself.

Do I believe that God could do that?
Yes, of course.

But do I believe that God will do that?
No, not at all.
Another rub.

I feel like I had my love.
God gave him to me once and it’s all I get.
I don’t deserve another.
Hell, I didn’t deserve the first one.

So, maybe …… just maybe …… I’m trying to convince myself that I don’t want another love …… because I don’t believe I’ll get another one.
The ol’ “reverse psychology thing”, eh?

I guess most of the time I can convince myself that I’m good alone.
In fact, I’m great.
I can travel, see shows, play with my grandson …… all whenever I want with no one to answer to, consult with, check in with.

And then I read a Facebook post.

And I cry.

So there you go.
No answers really, but I do feel calmer.
And yes, I’m publishing this just as I’ve always published the not-so-pretty-side of widowhood.
Because maybe I’m not the only one out here.
Crying over a Facebook post.
Surprised once again how fast and strong those damn waves can be.
But I’m still standing.
Painfully.