Has it really been 15 years? Thanksgiving is a bad time for me, but then most days are anymore. It was a couple days before Thanksgiving 15 years ago when my husband was taken to St. Mary Corwin hospital, brought back to life and started the journey to death. There is no other way to put that and it was what it was. I could not find his DNR so the rescue squad did what they do. This has been a lesson well learned. I have a copy of mine stapled to my head. This began 3 weeks of ICU and then transfer to Colorado Springs to try to wean him off life support. Needless to say that did not work and 2 months later I was a widow. It has been a long 15 years.
I look back on those years and it is almost like it was yesterday. We had adopted Bret, so that kept me busy. He was 10 or so when Kenny passed. I sent him to public school. I sent him to charter school. I sent him to private school. The little fellow kept me very busy. I would have no doubt went nuts had I not had him, so for that I am grateful.
Being a 60 year old widow with a 10 year old son was not conducive to dating, so I did not do it. After 9 years I put my toe in the water and met Sherman. We know how that turned out and 3 years later he was gone. I miss having someone to lean on, but I get by with a little help from my friends (I heard that in a song.) There was one guy that I cared about, but he turned out to be not at all what he presented himself to be, so that fizzled out.
I think about dating some times, but not very often. It would be nice to have someone that would call a couple times a week and maybe take me out to eat once in a while. Or a walk along the levee. I really miss that. I have lady friends that I go to lunch with on occasion, but I still miss having a man to open a door for me. I miss having a conversation where I say something and then he says something and then we both laugh. A sense of humor is so important to me.
Kenny and Sherman were both very intelligent and witty. They both loved me although not in the same way. Kenny was fishing, bull riding, family, cooking, gardening, and country music. Sherman was more high brow, sipping wine and old motorcycles. We watched a movie once a week and one night we were watching "Cheech and Chong", which was my choice and he told me "Fiddler on the Roof " would be wasted on you!" I laughed at him, but I never chose Cheech and Chong again. I did try to watch Fiddler on the Roof, but it bored me to tears. He was right about that.
If I could meet someone like either one of those two, but I think God broke the mold after he made them.
So, Thanksgiving is over for another year. I had lots of company and they are starting to leave now. Patty is going to stay a couple days extra so there is that.
I am changing my life and the process is already started. I am sorting my possessions into 3 piles. One is to keep and one is to sell and one is trash. I guess there 3 more piles. Those piles are "stuff" that belongs to other people.
There are books that belong to the college and are supposed to leave when the book sale is held in the Spring, but I hear the sale is not happening this year. Ever hear of a "book burning".
Another pile belongs to a guy in Pueblo West and is stuff he wants, but not enough to take it home. It has been in my garage for about 9 or 10 years.
And then there are 2 piles that belong to a kid on the west side. He wants his stuff, too, but not enough to come and get it. I call it "garage sale shit."
I want to downsize. Frank and Cliff brought me a roll off this summer and I filled it. I may need another one of those. Right now I am sorting and boxing. I have a pile in the garage that grows every day. In the spring I am going to have a junk sale and get rid of it. What does not sell goes to the ARC. My dogs are old. If they make it to Spring it will surprise me. When they are gone, I am gone. This house will be put up for sale and since it is prime real estate, it will sell quickly "as is, where is, with all faults and weaknesses."
Some where there is a place for me in this world. Course I come with a cat. That cat and one suit case is about all that I need. I suppose I can not completely change everything and I am sure wherever I am and what ever I am doing, I will pause for a run out to Los Pobres to see Sister Nancy and Rosie. I expect I will still be gathering wax for the candles for the homeless. I expect I will still have a crochet bag to work on, but who knows. I guess I will just set back and see where the tides of life blow me.
In the meantime, if you see me on the street, I can sure use a smile and a hug.
I look back on those years and it is almost like it was yesterday. We had adopted Bret, so that kept me busy. He was 10 or so when Kenny passed. I sent him to public school. I sent him to charter school. I sent him to private school. The little fellow kept me very busy. I would have no doubt went nuts had I not had him, so for that I am grateful.
Being a 60 year old widow with a 10 year old son was not conducive to dating, so I did not do it. After 9 years I put my toe in the water and met Sherman. We know how that turned out and 3 years later he was gone. I miss having someone to lean on, but I get by with a little help from my friends (I heard that in a song.) There was one guy that I cared about, but he turned out to be not at all what he presented himself to be, so that fizzled out.
I think about dating some times, but not very often. It would be nice to have someone that would call a couple times a week and maybe take me out to eat once in a while. Or a walk along the levee. I really miss that. I have lady friends that I go to lunch with on occasion, but I still miss having a man to open a door for me. I miss having a conversation where I say something and then he says something and then we both laugh. A sense of humor is so important to me.
Kenny and Sherman were both very intelligent and witty. They both loved me although not in the same way. Kenny was fishing, bull riding, family, cooking, gardening, and country music. Sherman was more high brow, sipping wine and old motorcycles. We watched a movie once a week and one night we were watching "Cheech and Chong", which was my choice and he told me "Fiddler on the Roof " would be wasted on you!" I laughed at him, but I never chose Cheech and Chong again. I did try to watch Fiddler on the Roof, but it bored me to tears. He was right about that.
If I could meet someone like either one of those two, but I think God broke the mold after he made them.
So, Thanksgiving is over for another year. I had lots of company and they are starting to leave now. Patty is going to stay a couple days extra so there is that.
I am changing my life and the process is already started. I am sorting my possessions into 3 piles. One is to keep and one is to sell and one is trash. I guess there 3 more piles. Those piles are "stuff" that belongs to other people.
There are books that belong to the college and are supposed to leave when the book sale is held in the Spring, but I hear the sale is not happening this year. Ever hear of a "book burning".
Another pile belongs to a guy in Pueblo West and is stuff he wants, but not enough to take it home. It has been in my garage for about 9 or 10 years.
And then there are 2 piles that belong to a kid on the west side. He wants his stuff, too, but not enough to come and get it. I call it "garage sale shit."
I want to downsize. Frank and Cliff brought me a roll off this summer and I filled it. I may need another one of those. Right now I am sorting and boxing. I have a pile in the garage that grows every day. In the spring I am going to have a junk sale and get rid of it. What does not sell goes to the ARC. My dogs are old. If they make it to Spring it will surprise me. When they are gone, I am gone. This house will be put up for sale and since it is prime real estate, it will sell quickly "as is, where is, with all faults and weaknesses."
Some where there is a place for me in this world. Course I come with a cat. That cat and one suit case is about all that I need. I suppose I can not completely change everything and I am sure wherever I am and what ever I am doing, I will pause for a run out to Los Pobres to see Sister Nancy and Rosie. I expect I will still be gathering wax for the candles for the homeless. I expect I will still have a crochet bag to work on, but who knows. I guess I will just set back and see where the tides of life blow me.
In the meantime, if you see me on the street, I can sure use a smile and a hug.
