CHANGES IN ATTITUDE

 

Sometimes I just need to slap myself and change my thought pathways. That happened this morning as I was doing my hated exercise program. I was lamenting internally about how difficult it is to keep to this regimen and being pissed off about having to do it at my age. I mean, really, why can’t I simply sit on the sofa, eat bonbons and grow old peacefully.

Well, I know the answer to that, as do we all…I want to remain independent for as long as possible, preferably until the grim reaper shows up to claim me. The idea of having to enter one of those holding facilities for old and ill people scares the absolute hell out of me. The idea that I could lose control of my life, my assets, my choices add to my worry about the future.

Why is it no one told me how difficult being old would be. And, okay, I saw it for myself with my grandmother and my parents as they grew older and lost their right to make choices about how they wanted their lives to be. Why did I not see then what I’m feeling and thinking now? I have no idea aside from the fact I was young and potentially stupid when it came to their reality. Of course, it could also have been the fear engendered by what I was seeing and experiencing. But if that were so, why didn’t I see it then. Why is it that I’m now realizing what I could have known then?

What this whole diatribe is leading up to is the fact the balloon expanded over my head during my exercise program, i.e., I was looking at the whole thing with the wrong attitude. I need/should be thankful I can do all these exercises that allow me to live alone, do my own gardening, cooking, shopping, driving and any other activity that allows me to remain independent.

The result is I am going to begin being thankful every single day for every single task I can perform without assistance. I’m going to be thankful I am able to live alone, cook my own meals, do my own laundry, garden, play with Kuma, shop, type this missive, handle my finances…I guess it means I need to give thanks and be thankful for each minute I’m able to do for myself.

Now that’s certainly a much better attitude…at least in my opinion and that’s what counts.

SO CLOSE, YET SO VERY FAR

 

          It’s been ten months since I’ve seen my grandson, Xander. Today is his twelfth birthday and I sent him a text. Since he didn’t answer, I decided to call him and did so. He sounds much the same as he did since I last talked to or listened to him. It is so hard for me to understand how his father, my son, can allow so much time to pass by without allowing me into his son’s life. I guess things are different now than they were when I was my grandson’s age.

          When I was twelve or even younger, my life was filled with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. No one asked me if I wanted to have them there, they just were. Sunday dinners were held at the grandparents or our home and any one of the relatives who were available were welcome to attend.

          It wasn’t that I absolutely loved all these different individuals, but more that they were simply there, part of my life. As I aged, I came to realize there were some uncles a niece endeavored to avoid because of the booze imbibed and the unwelcome and inappropriate expectations and/or methods by which these relatives showed their interest and/or affection. I also learned there were some aunties who were far more interesting and supportive than some of the others.

          There were always huge relative gatherings that happened at least once a year or more. Every single person to whom I was related showed up and  participated in the potluck and catching up on the latest news about family matters. I was never asked if I wanted to attend, it was simply expected.

          These kinds of gatherings or reunions have become a thing of the past, at least as far as my own personal family goes. It’s been years since the remaining aunts, uncles, and cousins have managed to meet even once a year to look at each other and share a small bit about our lives with each other. I don’t know why these have become so rare, to the point that they are no longer held. I miss them and believe that my grandchildren’s lives are less rich as a result.

          In my youth, there were stories that were shared during these family get-togethers that wouldn’t have been shared otherwise. These days, those stories and family history are no longer shared and are lost permanently. It’s, in my opinion, so very sad. I know that as I’ve gotten older, there have been times and questions I would have loved to have been able to ask about, but the family that could provide answers no longer exist.

          I find myself wondering if my grandchildren will, at some point, wonder about me or my forebears, but be unable to find an answer to whatever their question might be. It seems to me that the more time passes, the more time we and our family members spend online, the less time and effort we make to share what has come before.

          And, speaking of being online, we all know we can trace our ancestry through one of the available services. I’ve done that myself and that’s how I found my half-brother with whom I’ve developed a great relationship. Sure, once I’m gone, my descendants can utilize these services to look for and trace their ancestry, but it comes as words on paper, without emotion or even context. All the stories I’ve gathered in all my years won’t be included. It’s not just my information either, but the information I’e brought forward from my parents, grandparents and other family who passed before me.

          So, at some point, I assume that any information not found online about me will be almost nonexistent. Rather than a fully developed person, I, and the others before me, will be one-dimensional. This is because as time has passed, we haven’t tried to reach out to each other, to know each other, to share our lives in any way, shape or form. I’m sure my grandson knew who I was when I called this evening, but I know, without doubt, that he doesn’t and will most likely never really know me, his Nana, at all. His memories, unlike mine about those in my past, will be few and far between.

          This idea/knowledge makes me very sad.

HARD TO BELIEVE...SIXTY YEARS...

 ago today, I was on my way to get my hair done so I could be a beautiful bride at the close of the day. If anyone had told me my marriage would last sixty years (actually 53.394 when John passed), I would have found that information completely inconceivable. My reason(s) for that wouldn’t be that I didn’t love my husband to be or that I thought we’d end up getting a divorce, but the fact that sixty years seemed unimaginable at the ripe old age of twenty.

          But the fact is time moved on and so did John and I. True, we had some difficult times, but the fact is the happy outweighed the unhappy (at least for me) by tons and tons. The memories I have of our marriage and family life are filled with times and days and weeks of not only special events, but the simple day-to-day lives we led as partners.

          As of yesterday, John will have been gone for seven entire years now. Somehow, I lost two years of that time or didn’t want to admit just how long it had been when speaking of him to family and friends over the last year. And while I’ve managed to get along just fine without John for those seven years, that doesn’t mean that I don’t miss him. There may be days when I don’t even think of him and others where his absence makes me lose my breath with longing. There are even times when I think he’s just in the next room or asleep in bed with me.

          I thought that as time passed, I would reach a point where I didn’t miss him, where I didn’t want to spend another hour or day in his company, but apparently not enough time has passed. I would give anything to be able to wake up with John in the morning, to stumble into the kitchen and have him ask me to make him a latte too, to feel him walk up behind me and fold me into his arms, to hear him laugh, or even to hear him snore.

          No one told me how it would be once I was alone, how the silence grows and grows, how the house, our home, feels so empty without him. No one told me how difficult it would be to crave those hugs and kisses once freely given. No one told me how empty my bed feels, or my body for that matter, when making love isn’t an option. No one told me how hard it is when it’s necessary to make a tough decision and there’s no one with whom I can discuss the options.

          Before John passed, I used to look forward to the weekends. They were a time for us to do “things.” When I think back to weekends long passed, there are so many that still bring a smile to my mouth, a giggle to my throat or a wish it could be repeated. Now, I dread the weekends. They seem to last way longer than two days, forty-eight hours. Family and friends have their own lives to pursue, so my phone doesn’t ring and it’s rare I receive a visitor.

          Seriously, I thought by now John’s absence would be something to which I’d be totally accustomed, and I do admit that there are times and occasions when I rather like not having to consult him about whatever it is I am thinking about, whether it’s a movie or restaurant choice, a decision about our financial status, or even when to get up or go to bed.

          Still, given the option of having John here to share in my life or to continue as I’ve been doing for the last seven years, I would definitely choose the John alive option.

          Happy Anniversary John, wherever you may be!!!

WELL, IT'S OFFICIAL...

 

I’m in debt for the remainder of my life.

          Today, the technicians completed the installation of my new furnace and heat pump. I used two credit cards to pay off the balance. I could have written a check, but I wanted the credit card points.

          As I wrote in a previous blog, I went to BECU and talked to them about a home equity loan. At that writing, I wasn’t sure the loan would even be approved considering my age, but WOWZA, the approval took barely a week. The funds were available almost immediately. Of course, once I transfer the money to my checking account and pay off the credit cards, there isn’t going to be much left to be available. That’s okay though because I’m used to being poor.

          Unfortunately, there must be some way for various companies to become aware that I’ve gone in debt with a home equity loan. I’ve received no less than two letters, one postcard, four remove three edges to see the contents pieces of mail and two or more phone calls, in the last couple of weeks. These all want me to sign up for a mortgage loan that will pay off the loan when I die, make the payments if I become disabled or….who knows what. I asked my son and he said to just ignore, so I am.

          On my own behalf, I’ve already made one payment toward the repayment of this loan, all to the principal. I gather the first interest payment will come due the middle of September. It’s my hope that I can pay down this loan over time so when I do die, the amount remaining for my heirs to pay won’t be significant.

          I am proud of myself because I did all this on my own. True, my son did look at the bids for the work and agreed with my choices, but he didn’t help with the loan request at all. And, since this was so very easy, perhaps I’ll begin looking at various places I’d like to go…do you think BECU will increase my loan if it's for a trip to Greece…or Italy…or Tahiti…or Mars???

          Have to admit it’s tempting to find out.

I'M FEELING DONE

         

For those of you who read this, please don’t be alarmed. I have no intention of harming myself or doing anything drastic that would change my life. It’s simply how I’m feeling this morning and how I feel some of the time in my life.

          I’m ready to be done, finished, complete. I’m ready to move on to whatever comes next because what’s here is simply too sad and/or hard to bear some days or even hours. I wish there was someone I could talk to about how I feel, but I feel like anyone who would understand what I’m thinking/feeling has already gone beyond.

          I’ve come to believe that when you reach a certain point in your life, you’re done, or at least I am. I don’t feel as though there is a lot left for me to experience as the days/months/years move on. And let’s face it, I’m seriously lonely but don’t feel I have the option to actually change that.

          Looking back over my life, I’ve done pretty much everything I set out to do or thought I wanted to do. I married, had a good marriage to a good man for most of the 50+ years we shared. I had three children, the first I HAD to give up for adoption. This has always been difficult for me to admit and attempts to establish a relationship with her have come to naught. I’ve simply had to be content with the knowledge that she has had a good life with children and grandchildren of her own.

I’m exceedingly proud of my eldest son because he’s been a success at almost everything he’s attempted. I do wish, however, that he had a larger imagination that would allow him to go out into the world to seek and experience other places and cultures. Still, he’s lived in only two homes of his own and raised a daughter who is and has been a huge blessing to me for all her life.

The second son, while his birth was greatly anticipated and whose early years brought so much joy to my life grew into a disappointment. As I write this, I haven’t heard from him for almost two months. His history of borrowing money and/or abusing relationships with other family members or friends makes me very sad because I figure my mothering must have been faulty.

When it comes to my daughters-in-law, therein lies additional huge disappointments. I seriously hoped that when my sons married, I could have a great relationship with those women, but that hasn’t happened. I don’t understand why there’s such a disconnect, but there is and nothing I’ve tried to do to correct it has been welcomed or made a difference.

My granddaughter brought so much joy into my life and still does. Like her father, she’s been a success at almost everything she’s attempted. She’s funny, kind, loving, and would, I think, do almost anything I asked of her. The memories I have of our times together over her early years still bring me such happiness and I continue to add to them even now.

My only grandson was an absolute delight. I was there for his birth and got to spend many fun and memorable hours with him before he went to school. I expected but didn’t receive any invitations to share in any of his school accomplishments except for maybe one. Since then, my contact has become far less and for almost a year now, not at all. It’s not because of him, but because of his father, my son, that this disconnect has happened.

So, here I sit at this computer in the house I’ve lived in for the last fifty-seven years, alone and lonely and feeling as though the more time passes, the less able I’ll be to keep it all up. There are entire days, even weekends, where I don’t speak to another person. Invitations to various events or other people’s homes are few and far between. There is one standing commitment each week which I try to meet, but it’s not that uplifting. The classes I attend are great, but there’s no lasting relationships with most of the people I’ve met there. I’m sure there are few, if any, who would wonder where I was if I was done.

And yes, I guess you could say I’m feeling sorry for myself and having one hell of a pity-party just me, myself and I. But who better knows what I think or how I feel? Right now I also know that this feeling won’t last because I’ll get up and do something like trim the rhododendrons, talk to a neighbor, have someone come visit and once again feel that life is good. But for now, I just feel that the perfect answer to my life would be to go to bed and never have to wake up. I feel done!!!

AI BULLSHIT

 

          I just have to vent and/or rant about something that’s been annoying me for some time. Of course, I could simply stop looking at Facebook and then I wouldn’t become annoyed, but there are some things I do like about Facebook…the stories about Moose the Mantle Great Dane for instance. The huge proliferation of the various items that I can purchase that will improve my life in some way is the annoyance(s).

          You’re sure to have seen and/or been sucked into the little tales about how the husband, ex-husband, ex-husband’s new wife, husband’s female co-worker or some not nice person makes some form of condescending or “poor you” comment that leaves the other woman feeling so very bad about herself. Then, in steps a close friend who gives her the secret to her future success and allows her to show up and show off her new whatever the product has changed so completely it’s noticeable to everyone. Not only that, but everyone ends up wanting to know what “she” did that has led to such a change so they can purchase that product too.

          Facebook is rife with stories like this that suggest, or actually almost promise you, that if you buy these shoes, this face cream, this vitamin, this whatever, you will change your life and have it end up just like the woman’s life in the story you just read.

          Of course, you and I both know that it’s simply advertising in the hope you’ll purchase whatever the product may be. I even have to confess that I’ve actually fallen for the “promise” at least once, if not twice. Now, I rarely read these “confessions” let alone visit the site that will definitely “change my life.” Or, if I begin to read one, I get out of it as soon as the focus becomes clear…sometimes the lead in is so good, I do initially get caught up.

          What annoys me most about these tales is the author is never identified. If there’s a profession where I could write tales about products that will guarantee you a change in your life for the better, then I want to apply for a job. I am, however, afraid that all these stories are AI generated.

          And let me be completely honest here. It would be wonderful if I could haul out my credit card and visit all these sites and order all these products. What would be even better would be if the shoes actually made my feet feel normal and pain free; that the skin cream would give me the face of a fifty-year-old by erasing all my wrinkles; that the vitamin or supplement would allow me to halt a medically prescribed medication and give me more energy and the ability to sleep nine hours a night; that my dog would respond to whatever method employed and stop barking; that whatever available housing improvement would make my home gorgeous and safe.

Seriously, if I have a problem, I’m sure there’s an AI generated story about some product that will fix it in absolutely no time. I’m also sure there are tons of people who use their credit cards for the purchase only to be disappointed by the “promised” results. I think these are AI generated fairy tales for, as some of these stories put it, women over fifty. Sorry, but I stopped believing in a fairy godmother long ago. I’m going to keep my credit card in my wallet…at least until there’s a really believable story about a product that absolutely promises the results will be unbelievable. Guess I won’t be purchasing anything else in the future.

CHAPTER 12

 

          As usual, Spencer was already in his office when Maddie arrived Monday morning. She followed her usual routine and joined him with her tablet, pen and coffee in hand.

          “Good Morning Spence. How are you this morning.” She chirped.

          “Fine, just fine, but we have to talk about this weekend.”

          “Nope, not at all. It isn’t a topic for discussion in the office. Now, what do you want me to take care of today.”

          “Look Maddie” Spence began only to watch her stand up and walk toward the door. “Where the hell are you going?”

          “As soon as you’re ready to talk business as usual, you let me know.” She responded as she reached the door.

          “Okay, fine. Come on back. We need to talk about the contract that’s coming up for renewal with the Louden Industries.”

          For the next several days, this was the way Maddie treated Spence and the way she expected him to treat her. To get her point across, she even packed a suitcase and went to stay with her best friend. That way, Spence couldn’t just stop by and attempt to get his way about what he wanted.

          Friday morning once business was out of the way, Maddie looked at Spence and said, “How about having dinner with me tonight?”

          Spence’s smile was huge but didn’t last long when she added, “I thought we could go to Courtney’s. They have nice large booths, don’t mind if you stay a while and the menu is terrific. My mouth’s already watering.”

          The smile left Spence’s face, but he quickly acquiesced, “I’d love to have dinner with you.”
          “Great. I’ll meet you there about 6:30 if that works for you?”

          “Perfect. I’ll be there.” Was his response.

          Spencer spent the next couple of hours preparing his arguments, positive he could convince her to change her mind. He’d really missed their camaraderie this week, but even more, the desire for her was so strong he could barely stand being in the same room. Their morning meetings had been so uncomfortable and difficult for him.

          Maddie was already ensconced in a booth when Spence arrived. She had what looked like a double martini on the rocks in front of her. “Hi Spence. I ordered for you, assuming you want your usual scotch. I’ve also got some hor d’oeuvres on the way. I’m starving.”

          “Maddie, I’m starving as well but not for anything on the menu. I’m starving for you. I could barely handle myself this past week I wanted you so badly.” Spence said while mentally screaming, fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn’t the way he’d planned to present himself.

          “I know Spence. It was hard for me as well, but you did see that we can manage our business lives separately from our personal lives. These past five days should have shown you that.”

          “I just don’t understand why you want to continue to work for me when you could stay home. I’d be there every night and maybe even some days.”

          “Oho, I need to become the little woman,” Maddie responded using her fingers to place quotation marks around the little woman. “Well, I’m not doing that. I will never ever rely on a man, or woman for that matter, to take care of me when I’m damn good at it myself. You need to enter the 21^st century.”

Maddie tossed back her drink just as the waiter showed up. He put the plate in the middle of the table and gave them each smaller plates and utensils. “Thank you,” Maddie said with a smile, “and, I’ll have another one of these.”

Ignoring Spence, Maddie filled her plate and took a bite. As soon as her drink was set down, she smiled and continued, “I can do practically anything you can do; well, okay, I don’t have a cock to fuck you with, but I’m pretty good at most anything you want me to try.”

Spence realized Maddie might just be a little drunk. “How many of those drinks have you had so far?”

“Doesn’t matter and don’t change the subject. This one makes three.”

“Okay, so you don’t want to negotiate with regard to our relationship?” Spence asked as he filled his own plate.

“I don’t see why we have to negotiate about anything. We can work together during the week and spend our weekends fucking like bunnies. It’ll be fun, promise.” Maddie responded with a wink as she sucked the garlic clove out of the olive.

Just the site of Maddie’s lips around that olive was enough to make Spence harder than he’d been just sitting there wishing they were in bed together.

Spencer hadn’t ever come across anyone in his life he hadn’t been able to maneuver toward his way of thinking or the goal he had in mind. He’d met his match in Maddie because she refused to consider any of the arguments he presented throughout the entire dinner.  Maddie remained adamant. They could have a relationship, but only on her terms.

When it came time to leave, Maddie grabbed the check. “This was my invitation, so it’s my responsibility. “

Spence realized Maddie was undoubtedly drunk when she totally screwed up the pronunciation of responsibility.

“Did you drive yourself here,” he inquired.

“Why no, I surely didn’t. I thought you might give me a ride home.”

Spence kept Maddie’s arm close because not only was she slurring her words, but her walking ability was a bit impaired. In the car and once on the street, driving toward her home, Maddie unfastened her seatbelt and leaned across the console. Spence’s foot pressed the gas a bit harder as he felt her teeth nibbling on his erection.

Spence groaned. “You’d best stop that before I have an accident and I don’t mean one in my pants.”

Maddie rose up laughing. “Well, then you’d best get me home quick. I’ve missed you so much, just the idea of you naked has my panties all wet.”

The speed limit wasn’t exactly obeyed and it didn’t take long for them to arrive at Maddie’s house. The door was barely shut and locked before Maddie leaned back against the door and said, “I need you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me right now, right here, immediately. Allow me to illustrate.” She pulled her skirt up, dropped her panties to the floor and reached for Spence’s zipper.

Free from his own clothing Spence pulled Maddie’s leg up over his hip and gripped her hips with his hands, Without hesitation, his cock found her entrance and he slammed himself home. Maddie put her arms around his neck and brought her other leg up so she was wide open. “That’s it Spence. That’s perfect. I’ve missed this so much these past days. Fuck me, fuck me hard.”

It didn’t take long for both to reach their release. Except for loud breathing, the room was silent as Spence leaned into Maddie who leaned against the door. Maddie began to chuckle. “Oh my god, you really satisfied the itch that’s needed a good scratching since last Sunday.”
          “I’ve imagined doing this to you every single hour of every single day and not just here, but at the office with you up against the door. Lord, you have no idea how difficult this week has been.”

“Oh yes I do,” Maddie responded. “I wanted to climb across your desk and lower myself on your cock every time I entered your office. But just think how terrific this has just been and how wonderful the whole weekend’s going to be. It’s not that hard to be good at the office when I know I’ll get this later.”

“Maybe for you, but I still think….”

“Don’t think. Just enjoy. Now why don’t we adjourn to the bedroom? I’m sure we’re not completely finished for the evening.” Maddie suggested as she lowered her legs from around Spence’s hips and felt his still semi-erect penis withdraw.

So began their surreptitious relationship. Over the next couple of months, they kept their personal lives separate, showing only a business relationship at the office and everywhere else except for Maddie’s home. Eventually, Spence had a decent amount of clothing and necessities at Maddie’s. They even reached the point where Spence stayed through Sunday night. Maddie was very happy and hoped they could continue this way for a long time, or at least until Spence tired of her or she of him. Of course, she knew, and known for some time that she loved this man.

The annual company picnic was scheduled for the following day. Spence and Maddie were in his office discussing the final plans. Spence opened his desk drawer and pulled out a small box. He pushed it across the desk. “Open it Maddie. It’s for you.”

“Spence, you shouldn’t have. Really you shouldn’t have, but you know how much I love little surprises and trinkets.  You really don’t need to keep giving me stuff you know.”

“I know, but this is special. Open it.”

Maddie opened the box to find a ring. It looked like a square-cut emerald surrounded by small diamonds. “Wow, this is beautiful.”

“It’s real, Maddie, just like the love I have for you. It’s an engagement ring and I’m asking you to marry me.”

The box fell from Maddie’s hands and Spence came around the desk to kneel and pick it up. He offered it to Maddie saying, “I’m serious Maddie. I want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled Maddie’s eyes as she looked at Spence. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, but I never thought you could love me back. If you’re really serious, my answer is yes, I’ll marry you.”

Spence pulled Maddie up into his arms. “Thank God you said yes. I don’t think I could stand much more of having to pretend you’re just the best Executive Assistant ever. I want you to be the best wife more than anything.”

“You don’t think I’m going to quit to be your wife, now do you?” Maddie asked, leaning back to look into his face.

“No, I’m asking you to be my wife, my partner, my lover, my everything. These last few months have shown me how important you are to my entire life, home and work.”

“Oh Spence, I’m so happy. I want you to be my husband, my lover, my everything too.”

The next day at the picnic, Spence handed out awards to the various staff members in recognition of some special effort made on the company’s behalf. Every single person received something from him. Maddie assisted by handing Spence each award as the person came up to claim.

The final award given, Spence held the microphone and gave his usual thank you speech to staff. When he finished, he said, “There is one other announcement I want to make. It’s the most important one of my life.”

          Spence turned to Maddie and held out his hand. She took it and stepped up beside him. “Last night I asked Maddie to marry me. She said yes.”

          They held up their joined hands, the green fire on Maddie’s ring finger glistening in the sunlight.

          There was applause and many wishes for their marital happiness, but it was Annie’s loud comment that made everyone laugh

          “It’s about time the best ever executive assistant joined marital forces with the best ever executive.”