Tag Archives: Hope

Alan Alda and Softball ……

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…… have absolutely nothing in common (as far as I know …… which isn’t all that far) except that I saw both of them last week. Like, close up.
I love NY. 🙂

Gracie and I have been spending as much time as possible walking and hanging out in Central Park. The baseball/softball fields are close to my apartment so we’ve spent a few afternoons just watching the little/big boys/girls play ball.
On Thursdays the Broadway shows play against each other, so that’s kind of neat to watch.

Gracie enjoys hanging out in the Park …… and most of the people who walk past us seem to like her, too.
Whenever someone walks by us, she tries to run up to them (she’s on a short leash), barks and hops on her two back feet, while pawing at the air as if to say, “Play with me!! Please, please play with me!” And most people can’t seem to resist.
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It’s really nice to walk with her because she has the ability to make people happy. Even when she’s in the sling and we’re walking through the city, people stop me and ask if they can pet her. Then they ask whether she’s a boy or a girl, what her name is, her age (9 big months!), and her weight (3 whopping pounds!).

Last Thursday I went to an event called The Moth. You can Google it to find out more than I can tell you, but it’s listening to people tell stories, centered around a certain theme. It’s really neat. And Alan Alda was there with his wife.
I really, really wanted to go up to him and give him a hug, but fortunately, I managed to overcome that desire and stayed where I was. Which was probably a good thing …… for both of us.
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In other news, my house in Texas (the one I live in …… don’t get me started) didn’t flood.
Whoop!
We received weather reports that there could be flooding in our community because they were letting water out of a nearby lake …… uncontrolled. That didn’t bode well, but it seems that we dodged that bullet. Thank the Lord. I talked to my neighbor today and she said that the sun was shining and is supposed to do that for the next 10 days.
Triple whoop!

May was a rather busy month here. My mom came for a week a couple of days before Mother’s Day. We had a good time, though I think she needed to recuperate from all of the walking we did.
She hung in there, though and was game to go anywhere.

My sister and her best friend came for a week, too. We had a great time seeing the sights. They saw more than I did, since I didn’t feel the need to accompany them everywhere. It’s very nice to have visitors who are willing to go sight seeing on their own.
There’s only so many times you can take someone to Ground Zero.
We did manage to have some fun in the Diamond District. 😉

I’ve seen a few shows since I’ve been here this time.
I know, huge surprise.

Here they are, in no particular order:

1. On the Town — it was cute, but not one I’d see again
2. On the Twentieth Century — I LOVED this show. So much that I saw it twice in less than four days (I took my mom to see it after I’d already seen it). Kristen Chenowith (“Wicked”) and Peter Gallagher (“While You Were Sleeping”) are in it and it’s a lot of fun. It’s my new favorite right now.
3. An American in Paris — a friend and I went to see this and we thought that it should’ve been presented as a ballet, rather than a Broadway musical. It’s more dance than show. Mostly ballet. The dancing is beautiful, but I would’ve preferred more of a story line than dance. The two leads have never been on Broadway before and have both been principal dancers in wonderful ballet companies (like the NY company).
So if you’re a huge dance lover, you’ll like this show. If not, you might want to skip the line and go see something else (like On the Twentieth Century!).
4. Two Gentlemen of Verona — Loved this show. It’s in Brooklyn, in a theatre I’d never been in before. The staging of it is fun, as is the entire show. I’d see it again (probably the best thing I can say about a show).
5. Kinky Boots — This was the second time I’d seen this one. My sister and her friend wanted to see it, so we all went. It’s still a good show and a lot of fun.
6. It Shoulda Been You — This stars Tyne Daly and is another fun show, though I’m not sure that I’d see it again. It was cute and has a surprise ending, which was fun.

I think that’s it. For now, anyway.

I started volunteering last week at a small theatre and have enjoyed it. Because it’s small, and relies heavily on volunteers, I’ll get to do a little bit of everything. Last week I worked as house staff during a show. Tomorrow I’ll work in the box office, which will be my main job for now.
This theatre has a huge program that reaches out to kids in the Burroughs, and introduces them to theatre by auditioning them for an annual talent show. The kids don’t know it, but everyone makes it into the show. From that point they can be in a program that helps kids know what it’s like to be prepared for job interviews and everything it takes to get to that point, and beyond. These are mostly kids who’ve never seen themselves able to do that. It’s a wonderful place, as well as a terrific nonprofit.

In yet other news …… last Thursday (the day I saw The Moth), was supposed to be my 32nd anniversary.
But it wasn’t.
Technically.
And, for what I think may have been the very first time, I didn’t cry. My eyes watered as I read a text from one of my daughters, telling me that she was thinking of me, and that she’s thankful for the example Jim and I were of a couple who loved God, each other and our children.
I know! Are your eyes watering?

I didn’t feel depressed or blue that day. I mostly felt blessed.
Blessed to have had Jim for as long as I/we did.
Blessed to have been married to my best friend.
Blessed to have 6 people who are part of him.
Blessed in way too many ways to blog about. It would be too long and probably too boring.
But I felt blessed. And happy to have wonderful memories, rather than tears of grief.
Don’t misunderstand …… there will always be grief, but not in the way there used to be grief.
Thank God.

So here’s to what would’ve been 32 years.
And the memories that 27 years brought.

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Have a great Monday, Peeps.
🙂

Such A Simple Act ……

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…… can bring forth so many emotions and memories.

I went to the theatre last night with several friends. Four of them were married couples. I sat next to one of them, chatting and laughing until the lights were turned down and the play prepared to start.
At that point, the husband simply laid his hand on his leg, palm up. With no words, and hardly any time at all, his wife lovingly put her hand in his.
And there they remained.

So simple.
So full of unspoken words and swirls of emotions.

I miss that.
The simplest of acts.
Yet it can speak volumes.

Jim and I never talked about holding hands. It just grew into a natural occurrence. Whenever we walked anywhere …… on a path, into a building, around an exhibit …… anywhere, our hands automatically found each other. It wasn’t even a thought most of the time. It was like our hands were magnets that drew each other together.

So simple.
And yet so very, very missed.

As I watched my friends hold hands throughout the play, I didn’t feel sad. I felt more wistful, I guess. I felt warm memories and I was happy for them …… that they, too, had this simple act between them.

I smiled.
For them.
And for me.

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A Walk in the Park ……

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…… without a George sighting today.
Sigh.

But Gracie and I had a nice time anyway.
She’s a very interesting dog to take on a walk.
That’s because …… and this might be considered TMI …… or humiliating for her …… but, she does not “do her business” outside.
Not at all.
Nope.
Nothin’.
Zip.
Nada.
No matter how long we stay out.

It seems that she doesn’t think she’s supposed to go anywhere else but her litter box.
Which cracks me up.
And makes me proud.
She has too much class to relieve herself in public.
I admire her fortitude.

She still stops and sniffs at every single tree and pole.
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But that’s all she does.
Just sniffs.

She also wants to meet and greet every single person/dog that comes our way.
And I’m not kidding when I say ……
Every
Single
One.

It makes for a much longer walk than necessary.
At least she’s friendly.

She has surprised me with her friendliness.
When we’re at home and she hears someone outside, she barks like a maniacal Doberman.
Seriously, she thinks she can take anyone and anything.
Napoleon complex, anyone?

But she doesn’t bark at anyone or anything when we’re out walking.
She just wags her stubby little tail and silently begs people to play with her.
And then sadly watches them go past.
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Then she looks at me …… with sadness in her eyes, as if to say,”Why won’t they play with me?”
Bless her teeny tiny little heart.
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As we walked back to the apartment I started noticing that suddenly we seemed to be surrounded by high school-looking students who were dressed in shirts and ties (the boys) and dresses (the girls …… just in case you couldn’t figure that out).
And by surrounded, I mean there were hundreds. If not thousands.
There were school busses parked and double parked all up and down Central Park West (the street behind my apartment building that borders the west side of Central Park).
Here’s a small sample:
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I still have no idea why they were there.
It’s May Day, but do kids dress up for that and get to take a field trip to the city?
Anyone know what the deal is?

Well, that’s it for my day.
I know, it’s almost too exciting for you to handle.
Take a deep breath and try to calm down.

Before I end this post I want to say thank you to all of you who commented here and/or on Facebook when I wrote about my secret feelings and sadness the other day.

I can’t tell you how much that meant to me. And how surprised I was by the number of widowed people who are reading my blog.
I really didn’t think many people read it at all, widowed or not.
So thank you.
Thank you for letting me know that I’m not alone in feeling that way.
Thank you for telling me that you felt less alone when you read it.
It feels good to know that you’re out there.
I appreciate you.
Very much.

Have a great weekend.
And if anybody out there knows where George likes to hang out …… please let me know!!!!
🙂

Back ……

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…… in my happy place …… New York City.
The weather here is absolutely beautiful.  I have the windows open and am enjoying the street sounds as well as the “fresh” air.
I use quotation marks around the word fresh because …… well, because “fresh” may be a relative state.
I love being able to open the windows in the spring and fall.  In Houston that would be approximately 2.5 days of the year.
I get a lot more days here in NY, but the more I keep my windows open, the more I have to dust.
And dust a lot.
Like …… every day.
And sometimes it seems/looks heavier than regular dust.
But I try to not think about that as I feel the cool air and listen to the sirens, honking, and music that drifts in through my windows.
Or maybe, slams in through my windows.
You get used to the noise.
Really.
I can sleep with my windows open and the noise doesn’t bother me at all. I wonder if I should make one of those sleep machines that has the ambient noises on it, like the sound of rain, a babbling brook, the ocean waves, etc. and add NYC noise?
I bet one or two people would like it.
Besides me.

I’m currently sitting on my sofa with a worn out puppy laid out next to me.
I know how she feels.
As much as I love this city, sometimes I think it’s trying to kill me.

This morning I went to the MET to take a “class” with some other women from the Manhattan Women’s Club. It’s called MET 101 and it’s 4 sessions. I missed the first two, but made it for today and plan to go next week.
Today we talked about painters from post-something to pre-modern. Or something like that.
Don’t judge me …… my brain holds only so much information now. To learn something new, something old has to fall out.

Anyway, we followed our lecturer (very nice and interesting man) through that museum for 2 hours.
TWO.
HOURS.
Of museum-walking.
Which is TOTALLY different from walking on a street, in a park or around a track.
It’s walk a lot-stop-walk a bit-stop-walk a bit more-stop-walk a lot-stop, etc.
It’s a back-killer.
Or maybe that’s just me.

But it was a very interesting morning, in spite of my screaming back and feet, which I totally ignored as I walked 2 miles back through the park, to the grocery store and then home.
The park was so lovely with tulips and pink budding trees all over the place. A bride and groom were doing their pictures in one spot. Behind them was a group of about 5 young people who were singing/selling their cd’s.
Further down was a group of young men who entertain people all over the city. Either that or they all have clones who do.
They do a lot of gymnastic stuff, including lining up about 7 men from the crowd and having one guy run and flip over them. Kind of like Evil Knievel. If you don’t know who that is, you should be on Instagram now.

There was a guy who was using a stick and string to make those huge bubbles, there were people painting/drawing scenes or caricatures of tourists (because people who live here don’t pay anyone for that).

All in all, it was a great walk on a fabulous day.
In spite of my back.

After I got home from the grocery store I did a work out …… still in spite of my screaming back.
And now I’m paying for it.
Well, not if I don’t move off of the couch.
But I’m not sure how long I can sit here without having to get up to do something useful, like finding the TV remote or going to the bathroom.
TMI?

Gracie got to go on a walk this morning, too. Daughter #3 and the little boy she nannies for took her out. She was less than thrilled that I left her with them, but hopefully she behaved herself soon after.

By the way, I learned how difficult it is to do a workout in a room where your puppy is.
She kept trying to get me to throw her toys, pick her up, jump on my feet, back, legs, etc. and just plain give her my attention.
She was a pain.
And now she’s snoozing.
Like messing up my workout was a huge workout for her.
Sheesh.

So, yesterday before my flight up here, I picked up a People magazine. I didn’t pay much attention to the front of it until right before my flight.
That’s when my heart started slamming into my chest and I think I may have hyperventilated a little.
Because of this:
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Oh.
My.
Word.

I have every intention of becoming a serious stalker.
I knew that he had been up here doing something, but I had no idea they were living here.
How did I know that he was up here?
Daughter #3’s BF sent me these, the day after I left last time:
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He added, “So … George is here shooting a movie… Just saw him. Thought you should know.”
I wanted to kick him.
The BF, not George.
I mean, how dare he see George?!!!
Yet, I liked the pictures.

So now I’m on the search for George. I’m not sure what the first step should be, but hopefully it doesn’t involve me getting off of this couch.

🙂

P.S. Here’s a picture of Miss Gracie, being excited to find herself back in the city!
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Life is Full of Seasons ……

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…… good, bad, fun, boring, happy, content and downright horrendous.

The thing about seasons is …… they come around again and again, though you never know when to expect them.
Or …… what special effects they’ll bring along with them.
And most times …… you don’t know how long they’ll last.

But, I think I can tell you, with some authority, that the bad seasons …… you know, the tear and snot-filled, cold and black, grief-filled seasons …… get shorter and shorter.
Just so you know.

I’ve been in one of those negative seasons for a few months now, though I only admitted it yesterday. The further out I get from Jim’s death, the more it feels like I’m not allowed to have a bad season. “Holy cow, it’s been over 7 years now …… and you’re STILL grieving?!” “Good grief, aren’t you over this yet?!”
“Why aren’t you dating anyone?” “Why aren’t you doing anything to get yourself out there and dating.”

I really have no answers to questions like these. Not nice, polite answers anyway.

Overall, my life is good. Often great.
But there’s always a caveat there, and most people don’t understand that.

My life is great …… as great as it can be without Jim.
That’s a fact.
Or, as I used to tell my kids, “It is what it is”.
I don’t choose to have that missing piece of my joy.
And I can’t replace it. With anything or anyone.
We all know people who’ve tried …… and failed.

Thankfully, for me, I also have God.
Not that He’s always been one of my favorite people (I’m sure He could say the same of me!), but He’s always been there.
Even when I didn’t feel Him.

Most days I can praise and thank Him.
Even when I don’t feel like it.
There’s always something in my life to be thankful about.
Just as there’s always the missing of Jim.

But I had to learn how to choose to be thankful, and choose to praise Him.
It didn’t come back naturally after Jim’s death. And it took me a while.
But I finally reached the point where I could choose to just sit in my grief and let it stunt and rob me of the rest of my life …… or I could choose to start seeing the things/people in my life that I’m thankful for.

The funny thing is …… once you start feeling thankful for a few things, it kind of snowballs. Your eyes open to more and more good things in your life, in spite of …… so much.

So this is what I’ve learned: when the seasons come …… and they DO come …… I need to just sit in them for a bit, let myself feel them, and see if there’s anything new in them. Once I let myself feel them and just “be”, they slowly start to fade. And that’s when I can choose joy.
Not 100% of the time, though ……. I’m no angel and I’m about as far from perfection as one can be. But I’m a work in progress. Sometimes the progress is painstakingly slow, sometimes I catch on quickly.

I am who I am.
And it is what it is.
Grief. It’s not just for anybody.

There Are Things I Whisper ……

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…… only to myself.

There are some pains that can’t be said aloud. Well, technically they could, but societally, they can’t. If I were to say why I feel sad …… why I’ve felt sad for weeks now, there would be angry comments. And I can’t say that I’d blame the commenters.

Yes, I’m a widow.
Yes, Jim was wise and planned ahead for an event we never thought would really happen.
No, I don’t have to work to make ends meet.
Yes, I am blessed.

But financial security doesn’t cure loneliness.
Money can’t help me fill my house with anything but things.
I can’t buy someone to hold me while I sleep and still love me when he sees me in the morning.
(Yes, I’m aware that money certainly can “buy” someone to keep me company …… but that, also, doesn’t cure the loneliness in my heart).

The security I have didn’t help me this morning as I sat in a meeting with my accountant and another guy who helps me …… biting my lip the entire hour to keep the tears from spilling over.
I hate those meetings. I end up depressed for at least a day because they bring back the memories of those first days and all of the meetings I had to attend in the wake of Jim’s death.
And I usually don’t understand much that’s said, which makes me feel sad …… and stupid.
As soon as I get back to my car, the dam breaks and the tears pour forth …… all the way home.

But if I were to tell a group of people how lost I sometimes feel, how “afloat” I am …… how purposeless I feel, I know that the common reaction/thought would be, “Oh, poor you!”, (in a snarky tone.)
I don’t expect or want anyone to feel sorry for me.
I don’t feel sorry for myself …… I just …… miss him.
I miss what we had, what we were …… who I was.

I can only imagine how much more difficult and painful my life would be if I had to struggle financially. I didn’t do anything to deserve this, anymore than I deserved his love.
He just gave it.

I wish that someone had told me about the guilt that comes with each check that’s deposited. It’s difficult to enjoy “death money”. Especially when you’d much rather have that person than a check.

I wonder if I would still feel purposeless if he were alive?
Is this a part of the “empty nest syndrome”? Once our children don’t really need us any longer, is this how we feel?
I think I’d probably still feel that way, though I’m sure it’s magnified by widowhood.

And while I am beyond blessed to be able to live in two wonderful cities, it’s difficult to feel connected in either one.
I know …… poor me, right?

As I’ve said before, and will continue to say, “I am blessed.”
I was “before” and I am in my “after”.
But blessings sometimes come with pain, and tears.
Like childbirth …… and parenting.

Maybe the more we are blessed …… the more susceptible we are to hurt.

Or maybe I just need to find a new “purpose” in my life.
And stop whining.
There, I said it for you.

I knew I should’ve just whispered it to myself.

Here’s What I’ve Realized ……

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…… in the past two days.
Everybody …… absolutely every single person on this earth …… needs to know that they have been missed.
Because being missed means that you matter.
To someone.

Yes, I realize that this seems like a basic piece of knowledge, or maybe it should be. But I’ve found that it’s not really. We all need to be told that we are missed …… and we all need to tell people who matter to us that we miss them.
This is not one of those pieces of information that you can take for granted …… but we do.

Sure, you think that your loved ones know you miss them.
So why bother to get all mushy and tell them, right?
After all, they know.
Right?

No. That’s not right.
We are human beings, and as such, we can be very fragile, no matter how hard we pretend that we aren’t. Because being fragile is negative, isn’t it? We should be strong. Who cares if we’re missed or not missed? We can do just fine on our own, thank you very much.
We just slip on one of the many masks we keep hidden in our closet and voila! No one knows what we look like beneath the mask. No one can see the tears, thankfully.
No one can see that we’re …… God forbid …… human.

And so we help to perpetuate the myth that all is well. We’re all strong. We’re all just fine, thank you very much.
If we’re missed, great. If we’re not, no problem.
If we’re loved, nice. If we’re not, it’s your loss, not ours.

What a load of crap.

I’m just as guilty as anyone else in this category. I miss so very many people. On a daily basis.
Hell, on a second to second basis.
But I rarely tell all of those people how much I miss them.
First of all, it would take all day.
Second of all, what if they don’t miss me back?
Ouch.

I have deeply missed the people at my “old” church. And the responses and comments that I received telling me the same (from my previous post) made me cry.
I didn’t realize until then how much I need to feel missed.
How much I need to feel loved.

There are people in my life who tell me this on a regular basis, as I do them.
I’d say that 99.9% of them are widowed. Or have experienced a profound loss, too.
Once that changes your life forever, you can’t help but love people fiercely and tell them so.

It’s the people in your “before” life that fall into the cracks. There’s no finger of blame to point, I can’t come up with a reason why, it just happens. On both sides.
And that’s a shame.

I need my “before” people in my life.
I need people who knew Jim.
Who knew Jim and Janine.

Yes, it can be a huge relief to have people in my life who only know the “after Janine”, as I’m sure any widowed person feels.
But I think we still need those who knew and loved the “before us”.

I think I’ve been pondering this more lately because my heart has been hurting so much for my sweet friend whose son died recently.
I’ve never experienced the death of a child. And yet, the two of us are connecting with the grief our hearts hold. I’m not sure if it’s because I loved her “before”, or because she’s a single parent and so she’s going through this loss alone. I think it’s probably both.
Her heart not only breaks for the future her son will never have, but for the future she’ll never have with a partner. Both losses are slamming into her on a constant basis.

I always thought that if one of our children died, Jim and I would get through it together. The loss of him was greater than the potential loss of one of our children.
But now, with him gone, the loss of one of my children would …… I can’t even go there.

Yet my friend wakes up there every single day. I want to take her pain away. But I know I can’t.
I want to tell her that things will get better soon. But we both know they won’t.
All I can do is be there for her. Sit with her, listen to her, cry with her.
But she needs more than just me. She needs a boatload of people who can, and will, do this with her.

Grief is exhausting.
And hard to carry alone.
If you know someone who’s carrying it, please help them.
Just offer to sit with them.
Tell them that you love them.
Tell them that you miss them.
Tell them, above all, that you miss their loved one.
Because that matters.

You matter.
Your words matter.
Your feelings matter.
So share them.

And help someone know that they matter.

Life is too precious to do alone.

So, You Know ……

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…… what it’s like when you have small children who get sick and run a fever? You call the doctor’s office and get an appointment for the next day, or for that afternoon if you happen to hit winning jackpots.
(For those of you who don’t have children …… this scenario also works with cars that get sick and have to be taken in to the shop.)
Something magical happens during that brief window of time when your child/car is being examined and their fever completely disappears.
Making you, as a parent/car owner, feel like a complete moron.

Well, that happened to me today.
In a backwards, sort of inside-out kind of way.

As I told you yesterday, I had an appointment this morning for a checkup. Which happened to be nice timing since I inadvertently picked up a Spanish bug/Ebola the day before I returned to the States.
(Doesn’t that sound SO “continental”? The “States”. That’s me. Full of continent.)
I’ve had an obnoxious, sleep-stealing cough since Saturday. But other than the stupid cough, I haven’t felt really bad. And I haven’t run a fever.

At approximately 10:30 a.m. today I had my temperature taken at my doctor’s office. It was 98.8. Still no fever. And when I told them about the cough, which they could hear for themselves, they asked if I had been running a fever. I said no.
During my exam my PA said that my nose was red and inflamed, and she could hear a little bit of noise in the lower part of my lungs, but nothing to be concerned about.
She decided to give me a prescription for a Z pack and told me to get it filled if I didn’t feel better in the next 48 hours. She suspected what I have is viral, but wanted to cover her bases just in case.

I left the office and ran a few errands before getting home around 12:30.
By the time I hauled my groceries into the house I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
And I also felt like I had a fever.
Of.
Course.

I put up the groceries, started laundry, ate some lunch and went through all of my mail. At around 2:00 or so I decided to take my temperature. I think it took me at least 30 minutes to find a thermometer …… and the two that I finally found are the old-fashioned kind with mercury in them. Yes, I realize that we’re supposed to throw those things out, but if I had done that I’d never know if I had a fever!
Don’t judge.

So, yeah …… I have a temperature of almost 101.
I’ve had it all afternoon.
God has SUCH a sense of humor.

I’m guessing that I’ll be starting a Z pack tomorrow.

And maybe researching a little bit more about Ebola.
Ole’!!

🙂

P.S. Hi, Aunt Cathy. Just so you know, Gracie did NOT sleep in the laundry room last night (nor was she ever going to). She slept curled up right against me, where she always sleeps when we’re together.
Oh, and she also spent a fair amount of time on the plane in my lap. Granted, she was in her crate, but her crate was on my lap during a large portion of the flight.
My bark is worse than my bite.
Mostly.
🙂

My Utmost ……

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…… and sincerest apologies.
I seem to be the worst blog writer ever.
And I can’t even tell you why.

Well, I mean, I could say that I’ve been busy …… but that’s not a great excuse. I haven’t been all that busy.
If you don’t count traveling.

I did go to Spain last week.

Do you like how I just dropped that like it was a trip to the supermarket?
It was kind of like name-dropping, wasn’t it?
I’m sorry.
Kind of.

Son #1 asked me if I wanted to go to Spain with him for his vacation …… and of course I said, “Of course.”
We had a great time.
Even if he was ultimately trying to kill me.
We traveled all over the country almost every single day.
By train.
I think I may be “traveled out” for a while.
Of course it didn’t help that we flew back to New York yesterday.
And this afternoon I got on another plane and flew to Texas.
Ummmmmmm, yeah …… I have no idea what I was thinking when I planned that one.
Except that I needed to spend more time in Texas.

Gracie and I got home at around 6:30 tonight.
For a dog who didn’t go to Spain, she certainly didn’t have one of her best travel days.
She whined and yelped and cried for the entire trip. Not constantly, but enough that I was pretty tense for 3 and a half hours.
She didn’t sleep at all. She’d sometimes be quiet for maybe 15 minutes, and then she’d let out a high-pitched cry. From under the seat in front of me.
Fortunately the woman who had the middle seat was very kind and didn’t seem to be bothered by her.
And to be fair, she wasn’t all that horrible. I think it’s like when you have a baby on a plane and are tensed by every little cry, thinking everyone around you is hearing the cries and getting fed up.
Or maybe that was just me.

Suffice it to say that she’s not my favorite companion today.
But that’s also because every thirty minutes or so she starts growling and barking at the front door …… like someone’s trying to break in.
It’s very nerve-wracking.
And a wee bit unsettling.
She may be sleeping in the laundry room tonight.

Anyway, my bags are in my room …… still fully packed.
My mailbox is also still fully packed. That’s because it’s been raining non-stop and I haven’t been motivated to go empty it.
I’m also pooped.

Jet leg, plus the time change, plus a nasty cough that has kept me from sleeping soundly over the past two days equals a pooped me.
Fortunately I have a checkup tomorrow so maybe I can get some good cough medicine. You know, the stuff that knocks you out long enough to sleep.
By the way, I picked this cough up in Spain.
Is a cough one of the signs of Ebola?
🙂

Hopefully I’ll get caught up on laundry, groceries, mail, etc. tomorrow so that I can also post some pictures from the trip.

Unless of course I have Ebola.
Although if I have to spend 21 days in quarantine then I guess I’ll have plenty of time to post pics.
See?
Always a silver lining.
🙂

Lions and Tigers and ……

1 Reply

…… dogs!  Oh My!!!

This post goes under the file of “Never a dull moment in my life”.
I hope you enjoy it.

Yesterday I flew from freezing-your-nose-off-in-20-minutes-New York, to Houston.
It’s cold here in Houston.
Well, cold in Houston-terms.
Which means less than 40 degrees.

Anyway, I’m going to share with you the oh-so-lovely experience I had on the plane.
I’m just going to paste and copy it from Face Book, which is where I posted it as it was happening.
Grab some cocoa (if you’re in the cold section of the U.S.), and settle in to read a post about something that could only happen to me.
And to this lovable creature:
IMG_8423

My first post:

Ok, rudest woman EVER next to me on the plane. She looked at Gracie, then me, and said, “A dog?!” Then looked at her husband and repeated it louder. I said, “They’re allowed on planes.” And she said, “I know they are. I don’t like dogs and I’m NOT sitting next to one!” I said, “You won’t be next to one, she’s in a kennel, under the seat.”
She went up to a flight attendant and insisted they give her another seat. Her husband is sitting across the aisle from her and said that he’d sit here and she said, “That’s not the point!”
I have no idea what her point is. The flight is over sold and someone is coming on board to talk to her.
Oh, she just said she wants ME to be moved! She said, “Why should I be the one inconvenienced?!”
I’m going to go ballistic momentarily.

Yes, every word of that is true.
Within a matter of minutes I had over 30 comments on that post. By the end of the night there were 70.
To say that my friends were outraged would be an understatement.

Here’s the next post:

They basically told her to seat down and deal with it. Her husband is now sitting next to me and she’s going on and on about “she has the right to have the dog on board”, mocking the woman who told her that. She keeps saying, “What about MY rights?!”
I wish they’d just kick her off.
Excuse me, I need to order another Bloody Mary.
Ugh!!!

I never got another Bloody Mary, but I did manage to get a couple of glasses of wine. I should’ve just asked for the bottle.
This post generated over 30 comments. Many friends were hoping that I’d get placed in first class because of this trashy, classless woman.
So I posted this next:

She’s also with a teenage son.
And this is first class. She had them check to see if someone (me) had been upgraded and didn’t deserve to sit here.
I have on headphones and we’re leaving so that’s all … for now.

When we landed, I looked at my FB page and couldn’t believe all of the comments. And I broke into a huge smile as I read all of the p.o.’d comments. My friends had my back. Yes, in a virtual way, but it still felt good. Really good.
Widowed people need to know every once in a while (or more often) that they’re not alone in their feelings.
And I was clearly …… not alone.

Just landed. Her husband was also an ass. I’ll write more later …… I just wanted to say that you guys are the absolute best. Thanks for having my back. You made me smile.

I got home and went through three months of mail, got Gracie situated with food and a clean litter box (which she has mastered 100%, Whoop!!) before crashing for the night. Little did I know that there were an untold number of people waiting with baited breath for my next post.
This morning a friend posted this:

I woke up and checked fb to see if there was the “rest of the story” about the mean people and the pup. Oh my gosh woman, wake up and finish the story. I can’t handle the suspense!!

Unfortunately I hit the ground running this morning and didn’t get on the computer until almost 9:00 p.m. tonight.
I had no idea that I was leaving so many people hanging!

Here is the last post about the “incident”:

Holy moley, you people are impatient!!
So sorry that I didn’t update …. it’s 9:00 pm now and this is the first time all day I’ve been on the computer. And I haven’t unpacked my suitcases yet!!!
OK, here’s what happened next (though I should save this for a blog post!):
After the United spokeswoman told her that there were no other seats and she could switch with her husband, the woman said something nasty about Gracie. The United lady told her that the dog was beneath the seat and would stay there. Insane-lady said, “It had better stay there!”
Do you know how much I wanted to reach down, grab Gracie and throw her onto that woman’s lap?!
My love for Gracie is probably the only thing that kept me from doing that.
Truly.
Her husband sat next to me. Now, in most rows of first class, there’s a small square of floor space in front of you, a larger rectangular space in the middle, and a small square of space in front of the other person.
Gracie and her kennel were in my small square place. My purse/bag was in the larger space, but not taking up all of it.
When he sat down, he looked at my bag and said, “Can you move this and put it above so that I can put my foot there?”
Now, here’s the deal: this guy was maybe 5’4″, and tubby. And that’s being kind.
There’s no way he needed any of that space for his foot, but I bent down, squished my bag to the side, and said, “There. Can you put your foot there?”, knowing full well that he could. He put his foot in the space and that was the end of that. His foot never made it to that space again. And, she leaned over after that and said, very loudly, “Do you have enough room for your feet??!!”
Picture my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
He and I never exchanged another word. As soon as we leveled off, he got up to go to the restroom. As soon as he came out, I got up to go so that he wouldn’t have to get up again to let me out. (Because I’m just that thoughtful of a traveler — even when your wife is a totally insane monster).
As soon as I left the row, Gracie started whining. I had no idea she’d be able to tell that my feet were gone, but she did. Someone else was in the restroom so I had to wait. And she got louder and louder. One of the flight attendants said, “Oh, she as separation anxiety!”, to which I replied, “Yes, she does. I’m trying to hurry.” I was probably out of my seat for a total of 2 – 3 minutes, tops. It was the fastest restroom break ever.
When I came out, he was complaining to a flight attendant, about how he was a million-mile flier and this was a terrible experience. He went on and on about how first class travel just isn’t what it used to be and how horrible it was that United really became Continental with the merger. Funny, he’s the first person I ever heard say that …. everyone else around here says that it’s too bad Continental had to become United.
Anyway …..
He went on and on for quite a while, saying they were on vacation, and it’s just too bad that most airlines don’t have a “real” first class anymore. He tries not to fly on United as much now. Lucky me to get that family on one of their few flights.
They were spending the night in Houston and flying on today …. I didn’t pay enough attention to hear where. At that point I had my headphones firmly in place and was ignoring them.
When we landed and everyone stood up, the woman behind me leaned over and said, “Where’s the dog?”. I pointed under the seat in front of me. The couple across from her leaned over and asked, “Where’s the dog?” The people in front of me turned around to see the dog. It was hilarious. I picked up her kennel, put on the sling I carry her in most of time, took her OUT of the kennel and placed her in the sling. People went nuts. They were oohing and awing. Even people from a few rows back in coach. That woman had made quite a loud scene.
The woman behind me leaned over and said (English was not her first language) …
“They are both bitches!”
People came up to me as I walked through the terminal towards the luggage area and commented on Gracie and those idiotic people. It was hilarious.
I knew that Gracie would be the topic of a few car rides last night.
I could see those bozos on the opposite side of the luggage carousel, and they kept staring at me … or maybe at Gracie, but I ignored them.
So there you go. The rest of the story.
It’s no Paul Harvey story, but it’s mine.
Thank you again, all of you, for being so irate for me.
It meant a lot.

So there you go.
Never a dull moment.
I have to tell you that I really did consider taking a picture of this broad, but just didn’t care enough to do it.
Her husband seemed to be trying to calm her down and get her to be a bit quieter in the beginning, but she kept claiming that she had every reason to be upset. Her teenage son didn’t say much during the whole thing, though I did hear him say to her (once she sat next to him), “Mom, I can’t even tell that there’s a dog over there.”
She ignored him.

I’m not sure why these kind of things happen to, or around me, other than to keep all of you entertained.
And if that’s the only reason, then I’m happy to oblige.
🙂
And for all of my tennis friends out there, and you know who you are …… I’m glad that I didn’t have to go all “Hold my hoops!!!!” on her.
I totally would’ve won.
Totally.

Happy Monday, Peeps.
🙂