ITCHING AND CHORES

 

         

Some days are much better than others. Today is a day where I’d be most happy to cross the rainbow bridge, mainly due to personal problems about which no one can really help.

          Well, okay, when I see the doctor tomorrow, perhaps he’ll be able to figure out why I’ve had a horrendous itching problem in my personal area since June. I’ve tried a wide variety of over-the-counter treatments, all to no avail. One of the prescription medications I take could be responsible because it states it could cause a yeast infection in that location; however, the test in June indicated no yeast. I haven’t itched and been this miserable since then, just off and on; but this past week or so, that description would certainly apply.

          Then there’s the care that’s required for this home and garden. It’s not as easy, if it ever was, as it once was. Yesterday, I almost filled the yard waste bin with leaves only to have the lawn mower folks come and blow leaves right back  into the area I had cleared. I thought they’d simply mow the leaves on the lawn up, but apparently not. So, I’ll need to rake once again before they return in two weeks. Perhaps I can catch them next time and tell them not to fill the clear areas with more leaves. I know it’s easier for them, but it makes it harder for me.

          I still haven’t completed the back garden work and my dahlias have not been cut down. There are at least three, maybe more, peonies that need to be cut back, not to mention other plants that require being put to bed for the winter. There is no one on whom I can call for assistance; and the thought of having to hire the work done is rather frightening since I have a limited amount of funds and have no idea how much longer I’m going to need them. Poor moi.

          Then, there’s the fact my least favorite part of the year is fast approaching. First, there’s my birthday, followed by Thanksgiving and then Christmas. All these used to be such joyful events, but now, in my old age, with so many family members and friends gone, they’ve become more of a chore to just get through.

          I know it’s my own fault that my birthday isn’t celebrated right on that day or close to it. I made the mistake quite some time ago of combining my birthday with Thanksgiving and celebrating it then. I did give myself a birthday party last year when I turned eighty, but that’s not something I’m going to do for myself every year. The family members that are left don’t see my birthday as a big deal and maybe don’t even see their own as a big deal. Disheartening and disappointing since the entire time my daddy was alive, my birthday was a big deal. Ah well, life moves on.

          I gave up doing Thanksgiving only to take it back a couple years ago. I don’t mind doing it, but it’s not a very festive occasion with just my son, his wife and daughter. No one seems to be very happy or engaged, including me. I just try to provide a good meal with everyone returning the next day for leftovers. It’s certainly not the happy and joyous occasion I remember back when John was alive. Perhaps there’s simply something wrong with me and that’s why it’s not festive.

          All too soon after that, Christmas will arrive. I don’t yet know if Christmas brunch will be held at my son’s home. I am assuming it will be there as usual, but they could decide they are done with hosting this event. In any case, I’ll be here alone with Kuma for Christmas Eve and get up with just Kuma on Christmas morning…it’s extremely lonely and depressing. Even in the few years before John passed and we weren’t getting along well, it didn’t feel as hopeless and miserable on that evening and morning as it does now.

          How do other people manage to get through these two months? I have no idea because I don’t share when I’ve just written on a broad basis. I listen to their wonderful plans and wish I could be included, but it’s their families and friends with whom they are celebrating, so I’d just be an odd person out. I often wonder if the few widows I know have a difficult time with November and December. I’ll undoubtedly not be bold and ask, so I’ll never know unless they decided to share. I’m sure that they’re like me; however, and don’t want anyone to know just how sad, lonely, and depressed they are.