ALONE AND LONELY

 

It’s late, I’m tired and have probably had too much gin, but the words are running rampant in my head, so I’m here at the keyboard to see if they’ll make any kind of sense. I’m lonely and alone. It’s most likely that at my age I’ll remain alone and lonely for the remainder of my life. Sure, there are people who find each other and end up together, but I don’t believe that will be me. One and done, you know.

Tonight, I deeply regret I didn’t take advantage of my husband John and seek as much skin-to-skin as possible when it was available. Why we allowed our difficulties to push us further apart instead of bringing us together remains a mystery to me. One of my favorite memories is of how I fit perfectly beneath his chin and he could hug my head. I loved having my head hugged. Some people might say it was a deep-seated memory of the birth canal, but all I know and remember is that when were pressed together and he hugged my head, I felt so comforted, so loved, so complete, so safe. That feeling is no longer available to me and I so regret I didn’t have a head hug every single day he was alive.

Then there is the feeling of another person’s body next to mine, John’s. Now I sleep alone, lay alone and lonely and wish for the comfort of his chest against my back or my chest against his; his arms around me or mine around him, our legs intertwined in some fashion. We didn’t sleep like this every single night, in fact, we slept separately for several years before he died. But, the option of seeking out that comfort was just across the hall, it was available if I needed or wanted it and vice versa for him.

To fall asleep in the comfort of his nearness was such a blessing and one I didn’t fully appreciate until it was no longer available to me. I remember decades ago making him promise to let me die before him because I loved him so much and didn’t think I could or would survive if he went first. He broke that promise and here I am, just me, myself and I and somehow the three of us do not in any way shape or form provide the comfort I so want and crave tonight.

It’s not often, if ever, that I go to bed and then get up again to sit at the keyboard and type out what’s running through my head. Tonight, I couldn’t settle, couldn’t make myself comfortable because I wanted, no needed, to snuggle and my pillow simply wasn’t providing the comfort I sought. I seriously doubt these words on this page will provide the comfort either, but maybe, by putting them down on paper…or electronically if you will…they’ll leave my head and allow me to close my eyes and sleep…alone and lonely.

COMPUTERS...

 

can just drive me crazy. For that matter, just about everything these days that has to do with electronics is capable of making me absolutely nuts. My computer is the reason there is no SHE today. When I sat down to write yesterday, my computer wouldn’t allow me to visit any of the internet sites I needed for reference so SHE could sound as though she was actually in Salt Lake City. I’ve never been there, so I have no personal reference information.

So, I messed about with my computer, trying this and that and the next thing. I emptied my recycle bin, rearranged all the icons on my desktop, and tried a bunch of other stuff. Still, nothing changed and I finally broke down and called my daughter-in-law who knows way more about this stuff. She tried to walk me through some various steps, but nothing changed. So, she said she’d come by after work today and in return I said I would make dinner.

On to other stuff, and while I was doing that, I thought about how I’d tried everything except unplugging comcast and then reconnecting. So, I gave that a try and guess what…everything returned to the way it had been before and I could once again access the internet sites I needed…have I told you just how much I HATE comcast. Unfortunately, it was too late in the day for me to write a new chapter. Angie and AJ are still coming for dinner though, so that was a plus resulting from the computer mess.

And, as long as I’m complaining about electronics, let me add my phone to the mix. My phone used to knock when I had a message. It also used to show a number by the message icon as to how many messages I had not yet read. I’ve gone to settings and done everything I can think of, and still my phone refuses to knock or show numbers. People probably think I’m just ignoring them, but unless I choose the message icon, I don’t know I have messages.

Then there’s the people who have the ability to talk to their phones and get a response to their questions. The only time this works for me is when I access maps. Then, my phone will talk and give me directions. Angie showed me one day that I do have little microphone icons for various icons on my phone, i.e., the internet, Google, messages, etc. Somehow, after she showed me those little microphones, they all disappeared. I can’t find them anywhere. Maybe I can get her to show me again after dinner today.

Now that I’ve begun my morning…and yours…whining, I’ll get this posted and move on with my day. Somewhere amongst chores, I plan to get another chapter written for posting tomorrow. It won’t be titillating or have any erotica since the old woman is in charge for a few chapters, or at least until SHE arrives at her final destination. And, you know, those chapters are the most fun to imagine and write. Maybe that’s another reason I’m not writing SHE every day…it’s just not as much fun when SHE’s not being naughty.

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS

 

On Monday, the 12^th, it will be 14 months since John died…14 months that I’ve been alone attempting to sort through all the crap he left behind. Yes, I’ve made progress and I’ll detail that in a bit, but today, it seems as though he and his presence has been gone from my life a far shorter time. Does this grieving ever end or does it keep returning when least expected and smack you right upside the head…or heart…or whatever?

So, rather than dwell on loss, I’ll report on progress. Some of you may already know that I had a garage sale. It lasted three days, but only four hours on the third day. At times, depending on what walked away from the driveway and on how cheaply it went, I’d look up over the house, expecting to see the Karlberg Memorial Apple Tree in flames or at least smoking. What didn’t sell at the garage sale took three trips to Goodwill with the back of Ravi filled to the brim and there’s quite possibly one trip to go.

Still, John got even with me for getting rid of his stuff at the garage sale. I drove Ravi on Thursday night so Haley could put up the signs. Then I parked her across the end of the driveway and she didn’t move again until Sunday afternoon when it was time to take down the signs. When I started Ravi, three dashboard lights came on, including the “check engine” light. So, Monday I called Magic Toyota and got an appointment for the afternoon. Turns out it was an oxygen sensor at a cost of $509 and change. I figure John crept out from under the tree on Saturday night and broke it on purpose. Still passive-aggressive in death.

Just this past week, I called the 1-800-GOT JUNK folks and they came out and hauled away five filing cabinets and a bunch of metal. Yes, I had to pay them, but it’s all gone and won’t be coming back. Just this week, I also parked Ravi in the garage…the first time a car of mine has resided in the garage in 51.5 years. Ravi really likes it in there and I do too. I’ll especially love it when it freezes and I don’t have to scrape the windows to see.

Over these 14 months, AJ, Thor and Haley have each hauled stuff to their homes to keep as well as a couple truckloads of stuff to the dump. I personally recycled boxes of magazines at the Shoreline Waste Management location. I also took two truckloads of hazardous stuff to the hazardous waste collection site in Seattle.

Last weekend, Thor came and loaded up all the collectible cards John had acquired, including the Coco Cola and Harley Davidson Gold cards. He’s much more savvy about selling on E-Bay, so perhaps at some point I’ll get a few dollars from those. It doesn’t really matter because at least I do not have to spend time sorting and cataloguing and trying to figure out how much any of them are worth.

And, did you know they make collectible smut cards? I believe I reported on finding porn in John’s room and closet about a year ago and how he took it from friends whose wives found it and said it had to go. I never saw him with any of it and I also knew he couldn’t have watched the videos or DVDs because he couldn’t operate those players. Well, apparently, he actually purchased these cards, about the size of a card from a deck of cards. Not only that, but he organized them in three-ring binders and in some cases in plastic baggies with notations about which ones he didn’t have. He even flattened and saved the boxes in which they came. He must have done all this while I was still working because I didn’t have any idea about smut cards until I began cleaning out one of the safes.

How can you live with a man for almost 55 years and not have any idea about some of his interests and hobbies? I really thought I knew him well, but after spending the last year going through all the crap in the garage and his room, I must have spent a couple of decades or more with a stranger even though it didn’t seem that way. So why do I still have days like this where I miss him so much.

So, things are moving along here. About the only thing left to finish up are the stamps. I began organizing them last fall and will complete that this winter. Then, the boys can take their notebook of airmail stamps to their homes and one of them can keep the remainder of the collection or they can split it. I do have to say that it’s a good thing we didn’t depend on John’s collectibles for our retirement. If that had been it, we’d have been living on the street in no time. It’s like the saying about one man’s treasure being another man’s gold…the problem is you have to find someone who thinks your treasure is their gold and that’s not easy to do.

I’ve tentatively made plans for the future. What I’d like to do is hire a company to do an estate sale around about May 2021. With the exception of the things I want to keep, the remainder can be purchased by whoever comes by looking for a deal. Then, the house will go on the market in May/June 2021.

Meanwhile, once a week or so, I go to Redfin and look at property for sale. I would love to have something on a small river or lake so I could kayak first thing in the mornings. That may not be possible, but a piece of land that already has utilities available would be good and if it had a view even better.

I’m also looking at tiny houses…not the really tiny ones, but 1,000 square feet or less. I’d love to be my own project manager having it built just the way I want it on the property I find. Time will tell if I can manage to work all this out.

Of course, my ideal plan would find me in Costa Rica November through March each year enjoying the tropical breezes and great weather. And who knows, maybe I can make that happen once I’ve sold the house and whatever plans I make come to fruition.

Still, no one really talks much about how a 24/7 period can stretch out so it seems more like an entire month. Of course, no one planned on this pandemic either and I’m sure my life would be a lot different than it is if I could have followed that one February cruise with additional trips to here and there and everywhere.

When days like this rise up and smack me one, I try to remember it’s up to me to CHOOSE how I react. I remind myself life could be much worse, i.e., I could LACK an income, family, friends, neighbors, good health, Facebook, good books, gardening, the ability to amuse myself with writing SHE chapters, etc. Instead, I’m fortunate to have all those things in my life and they all make my life ever so much better. On days like this, I am very grateful for what I do have.

ANOTHER THREAD HAS BROKEN

 

Once again, I didn’t have a SHE episode to post for today. A friend passed away yesterday morning. He was a colleague at Woodland Park Zoo, and there are many many of us who are going to miss this caring and devoted man. I know he read my blog because he told me so. He read it because I became a widow and he wanted to have some idea of what his wife, as a widow, might experience. He never commented on SHE, but it’s my hope he was continuing to read and that he saw my writing of SHE as a positive, that once time passed, I was able to become creative again.

I miss knowing he is out there living amongst us. I believe I’ve said something like this in the past, that my life (your life?) is made up of all these threads and it resembles a tapestry that grows and grows over time as more and more threads are woven into it. Eventually, that tapestry begins to lose a thread here and a thread there. Each time the loss of that thread leaves a hole in the tapestry. Today, there is another hole in my tapestry and my heart hurts for all those who loved this man and the thread of his life that was woven into each of their tapestries.