Don't We?
Hi there, come on in. Still raining, much harder and stronger than last night. Just got in myself. Hand me that, you know where to find it when you leave later on. Find a seat, relax and listen to the rain, it's much more pleasant when it's singing than when it's angry. I had a tough ride home, did you notice the street flooding? Had a scary moment or two, but am here now with you and all is well.
I've had old folks and old love on my mind. I've been lucky to meet many couples over the years who share a love that has lasted almost a lifetime. Three were on my mind tonight.
The first is a sweet gentleman I've known for years through my other world, I cried for and with him when he lost his dear wife over ten years ago. He's in his late eighties now, they met when he was nine and she was seven. Another boy was picking on her and the rest was history. She was about the best West Virginia mountains cook I've ever known. When she died, he and his two sons published a small cookbook of her recipies. I consider the gift of mine a treasure. He recently had a stroke and is wheelchair bound - but the shrimp gumbo he made with pride and delivered to me tonight was straight from her kitchen.
The second is a couple also in their eighties and still happily together. They have been married for sixty-nine years. He remembers every moment, she no longer does. Yet his smile lights up the room when he speaks of his "bride", and the long rides they take every Wednesday afternoon without fail. It doesn't matter, the destination. It's her hand in his that means the world. Hugging him goodbye is always one of the hardest joys I have.
The third is a younger couple just now nearing eighty. She has been his world, and he hers, for just over sixty years. He spent some time with me tonight, just chatting, as we have been friends long enough. He was making plans to return in May and again next October. He apologized for possible cancellations, but thought it only fair. His dear lady has been struck with cancer of almost every form over the years and is failing. Smiling, he assured me that the doctors are wrong - all those pills she's taking are working wonders, even if they make her quite ill. Of course, he's still working as much as he can since those miracle pills are rather expensive. Even with insurance.
Sometimes we forget the blessings in this world. Don't we?
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Not too often...I have a lot of faults (just ask my husband!) but lack of gratitude for all my blessings, big and small, is not one of them...One of my favorite sayings..."write your troubles in sand, carve your blessings in stone."
I have a very dear friend (who just happens to be a southern lady) who got me started w/ a gratitude journal several years ago. She writes in hers 1st thing every day and although I'm lucky if I get to mine several times a week, it is such a useful tool in remembering to count my blessings.
October 11, 2008 12:19 AM | Reply | Permalink
I would have expected nothing else from you, still. You continually amaze me with your insight and appreciation of the real neccesities of life.
October 11, 2008 12:32 AM | Reply | Permalink
Just want you to know that when I count my blessings, I count you twice...okay, three times!
October 11, 2008 12:50 AM | Reply | Permalink
You are a blessing to me, whether I remember to count them or not. But I promise I'll try harder to count. I've had good reason to appreciate them lately, thanks again.
October 11, 2008 1:04 AM | Reply | Permalink
Hey, Melissa. I have been thinking along these lines also. My wife's folks are in their late seventies. Her dad is a cancer survivor but lately he's been losing weight. I fear the next six months might be his last.
His passing will mean a whole bunch of changes; new roles and responsibilities, lost opportunities, fading memories. And of course I mourn for my wife, and my mother-in-law. And most especially I mourn for my kids.
All of us will be going through a lot of pain -- maybe not now, but it will happen. I've already been there with the deaths of my parents and grandparents; I'm really not looking forward to seeing my loved ones hurting so much.
I know it's inevitable. That makes it more devastating, because I can anticipate feeling the pain, AND feel the pain.
Anyway we'll savor the time we have left. That's the only way to make it any easier.
October 11, 2008 12:20 AM | Reply | Permalink
Hey, Ok. Thank you for this.
You've expressed so well the fears, the sadness, the unknown and the terribly too well known aspects of life changing. I so hope that his loss of weight is not what you believe, yet you are perhaps correct. I'm sorry.
Savor the time left. Shouldn't we do that every day with those we love? Not just the older and more frail - but every one. None of us are aware of the future. Time is relevant and irrelevant within each moment we live it.
October 11, 2008 12:38 AM | Reply | Permalink
Meliss...finally worked up the courage to tell my husband about my cyber life...
He was surprisingly unshocked! I was afraid he would think I'd gone off the deep end, but he actually seemed to understand and didn't find it at all bizarre that I have a glass of wine every night w/ y'all...
October 11, 2008 12:55 AM | Reply | Permalink
It will come as no surprise to you that your husband is a good man. Doesn't surprise me, either - he loves you. Earns him a star in my book.
I need another glass, can I get you one?
October 11, 2008 1:01 AM | Reply | Permalink
ummm, please!
October 11, 2008 1:30 AM | Reply | Permalink
Hello, you.
Don't have much to add tonight. Most of the people I've known have died pretty early -- not a lot of long-term happiness in my family history, so that might explain a few things. Right now I'm sore and scratched up from chipping wood all day in order to placate the forestry department.
My dad's brother died of cancer on Monday, and the twinge I feel is for the stories I'll never hear. So I'm just going to suggest that, especially to a place where people write their thoughts. Tell your stories, warts and all. Don't worry about being a hero in them, just get them all down, or at least make sure you tell someone. My prophet suggested that all life really was so that we could live this stanza --
"All the stories we could tell
If it all blows up and goes to hell
I wish that we could sit upon the bed in some motel
And listen to the stories we could tell."
When I'm not wallowing, that's what I've tried to do.
Y'all have a good night. Thanks for the idea Melissa. You rule.
October 11, 2008 1:01 AM | Reply | Permalink
It's widely considered a lost art - telling the story. Be it of your life, your history, your family or just those things learned throughout life from others. The point is to share the memories, perchance a tidbit of wisdom.
Thanks, Matt, for reminding me of that.
'Night, sleep peacefully.
October 11, 2008 1:18 AM | Reply | Permalink
Blessings... a subject which, as with so much else in life, can very well be a dual-edged sword. On one pull out of the scabbard, revealing naught but sweetness and mirth; whereas upon pulling anew, reveals darker elements, bitter to one's sense-memory - and, ultimately, best returned to the darkness.
Life is all-too-ready to plague us with the latter, if we allow. It takes concerted effort and mindset to try and maintain one's focus on the former.
That deed has become immeasurably easier for me of late.
October 11, 2008 1:29 AM | Reply | Permalink
As they say -- that's life. But in spite of the duel-edged sword, or maybe because of it, we have to try our best to make it special. The more happiness and peace that we find on our own, the better prepared we are to pass it along.
That's true love.
I'm glad the good is easier for you to find, of late.
October 11, 2008 1:41 AM | Reply | Permalink
'Night all, sleep peacefully. See you soon.
October 11, 2008 2:59 AM | Reply | Permalink