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| Enjoying Life For (old people)! Did I write that? I believe that a person who has come to terms with the passing of time will have no problem with my using that expression. Time awarded me permission to be myself. I have nothing to hide anymore. There is no need to be anyone else. I can still learn. Though I am a work in progress, I appreciate who I am at this very moment. I am grateful for every knock the school of hard knocks has used to form me into what I am right now! Look at all I have seen! Despite what life has thrown at me, here I am very much alive! That is an accomplishment worth appreciating. Appreciation gives the ability to experience JOY! What is JOY? Putting my feet over the edge of my bed, finding my slippers, and beginning another day. I can still breathe in and out. What a satisfying thing! I have some difficulty chewing, so I've had to adjust how I eat, but I still love to eat. Things still taste good and give me the comfort of a full belly. Nothing like a hot cup of fragrant French roast coffee, I love inhaling the steam as I take a sip. The flavor engulfs my senses. I look across the breakfast table at someone I love. She loves me back without measuring me or trying to pound me into the place in the puzzle where she thinks I should fit. I feel like I fit right where I am. I belong, she belongs, and we belong together. Enjoying Life. Note: I hope you don't have to grow old to experience JOY! |
| I take turns flogging myself for taking so long to understand what was in front of my face all along and celebrating the fact that I know what caused our pain. We came to much understanding in the closeness of the last days of our till death do we part commitment that we made some forty-nine years, and the lion's share of a month ago on the Travis County Courthouse steps. I remember being afraid. I asked myself why I was marrying this woman at this time. Truth be known she is probably the only woman in existence who would put up with me. I really wish we could have communicated better. Our life together would have been significantly better. Neither one of us wanted to go onward alone. We went onward together, and apart, somehow it was just too frightening to let her inside my head, politics raised its ugly head and we discovered we were poles apart. I am not complaining now about how it all coming to an end. It turned out to be what I had wished for thousands of times while staring at the ceiling with a yawning canyon between us, in bed together but completely alone. I must recall all of this so you will understand exactly what happened before so you can feel the joy of the end with me. I thought my life was over when she told me she wanted a divorce just as soon as we got settled in Baton Rouge. The move was a bomb that had exploded under my life scattering pieces of my soul over a multi-block area. I was in a vacuum when we arrived after leaving the lion’s share of my life behind in brittle fragments, a shattered window to the past. Hopes and dreams left behind. I was in shock! Night one: We stayed one night in a motel; it smelled a bit on the musty side and had an obvious bullet-hole in the door made from the inside. From the low trajectory, I surmised someone dropped their piece onto the tile-covered concrete floor and it had gone off. That seemed to be the least threatening thought to entertain while we each settled into the double bed with as much distance between us as possible. That night was long as thoughts tumbled over and over in the dryer in my mind. The past flickered past, a flash of a red shirt followed by the dark blue of wet denim which colored the rest of that night and most of the next day. My daughter came and moved us to another motel where we would stay until we could get into The Bluebonnet Towers. As we switched motels, I could not imagine what lay ahead. |
| She is with me, A thousand threads of time, Some recent, some long past, Deeply woven into the fabric of my life Sometimes contrasting, sometimes blending With the subtle colors of time passing. Forming the unique pattern Of what I remember. All the times She touched my heart The times She reached out When I was too busy To notice the softness Beneath the brittle face That she wore to protect Her soul, |
| Where is my Muse? It has been over a year and a half, since last she visited me. I’ve missed connecting with her to become a fountain of words expressing ideas. Sometimes it was a good way to purge my soul. I miss that. I was more than occupied, with my wife. It was strange how easy it was to let her become the center of my life. With Suzy gone now, I need my muse in my life again. My muse projects herself on the big screen in my mind. The screen is quite dark right now. I hope, I pray, for inspiration, a project with which I can fill empty hours doing something useful if only for myself. I’ve stopped dreaming about being an influence on others. Perhaps, I have nothing left to say. Years have passed accelerating as the numbers on my calendar became more impossible to understand. Where has all the time gone? Where is the realization of my dreams? Why am I in this two-room cell with memories and freshly preserved smells that carry me close to her for a moment in yesterday? She lives but a moment and then she is gone leaving me gasping for air in a brief part of today. Now! I inhale slowly through my teeth, knowing there is no one else here to be annoyed by the sound. |
| Maybe your muse needs you to write something other than what you may think it does or something other than you may want to write. Maybe you can write about your wife, or whatever is coming to you in the way of emotions. Don't try to make it something else. I'm definitely not a poet, but when I have strong emotions they sometimes insist on coming out as a poem. I say just roll with it. Nobody else needs to see the writing if you don't want. Just put fingers to keyboard and let 'er rip. Good luck to you. Your muse is there and you still have plenty to say. |
| Hugs to you, dear one... I scrolled back to your earlier post - and am so sorry to know your green-eyed lady has passed on. You immortalize Suzy beautifully with your words. What you said in the other post, about realizing how your love had evolved into something more meaningful - it really was moving, and truly, deeply powerful. I agree with Amay, Gem and Steven. Perhaps you have a different muse visiting, at least for now? She will go when you don't need her anymore, allowing the former to return. Let this one be here for you now  |
| My Wife passed at 9:50 last night. Her long and tortuous journey was over. At times she awoke from the deep coma where she sought brief respite from the struggles she went through to just stay alive. She came out from her resting place long enough to play canasta with this broken old man. Very few hands were enough to tire her out. She would ask for ice cream. This was a treat we had long denied ourselves because of cholesterol and weight gain. Toward the last, that didn't really matter anymore. I truly enjoyed tasting long forbidden pleasures, with my Green-eyed lady. Our life was difficult for sure but I will be eternally grateful for the lock-in precipitated something I would not have ever predicted. I discovered I was still in love with the tough old buzzard who pushed me away from ever touching her. With the healing of words enhanced by acts I knew she needed. Preparing a meal. adjusting her oxygen, or emptying her bedside commode, to helping her clean her bottom when she was unable, we talked about times long gone by. We both made apologies for the things we failed to do. She had pushed me away so many times that it became too much effort for me to approach her. When I became her caretaker I felt that it was a gift to be able to do anything for her. The slightest touch became electric. Sex was not part of the picture. when you are 78 years old it becomes redundant. Our souls touched in ways more intimate than we ever did in our sexual relationship. I am thankful for every second I had with her. I miss her. Even when she fussed at me because I couldn't change the weather, or banish the others that she saw and I couldn't. I answered a lot of (Who Is that?) questions. I never pretended to see what she saw, I just tried very to reassure her that I was with her and I was not going to go anywhere else. The night before she passed I crawled into her narrow little bed and held her. My voice seemed to calm her somewhat. It was wonderful, then the other her came back and shooed me away. I went to my bed feeling like I was loved by the green-eyed lady from so many years ago. Her eyes were still bright green when I checked her pupils after getting zero blood pressure reading three times. I knew it was over. I called my daughter, and the hospice service of Audobon Hospice and started the chain of events which was a finale to this woman's life which had touched so many others. She was a NICU nurse. She had no touch left for me until the end. Wow! |
| My wife is in and out of a coma. I am definitely on death watch. She is on hospice and wants to be home when the end comes. My three children are with us. I don't recommend this method of having a family reunion. I would appreciate prayers or just good vibes. David Tofflemire AKA Moarzjasac |
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I wish you many more years of joy and happiness.
Shirley