A week or so after my brother died my sister-in-law posted one of my sayings with the trailer that a wise woman had told her. One of her friends commented that it must have been her mother. Before she could respond one of my sister posted that it sounded like a "Connieism". Her response was that it was indeed from me. Now I just like that! "Connieism" I have arrived just like Yogi Bera! I have told ya'll I speak perfect idiom. While the truth is that they are all "borrowed" from others, I just use my little sayings probably more than most. Will share a few starting with the one she quoted.
'We do not change our mind, we simply make new decisions based on new information.' This particular saying came from Zig Zigler. You see for a person to change their mind implies that they were wrong and few people like to admit to being wrong. So you make a new decision based on new information.
It is what it is and we do what we have to do. Not sure where this came from but we say it ALOT in our family.
'You can't unring the bell'. All of ya'll can figure that out. It goes along with, 'it is like blowing smoke back in a cigerette' or 'it is like putting an elevator in an outhouse'.
One of my nieces has told me before that she just loves all my little sayings, and I just love that.
Have been feeling sorry for myself for the past several days and I am just tired of it. Really feeling the loss of father, husband, and brother the past few week or so. Which really is not surprising since we have decided that Sept. just pretty much sucks. With that being said I had, for lack of a better word, a revelation while riding in my truck a couple of days ago. (I am thinking of applying for a zip code for it, the truck that is.) My revelation was this. Yes, I miss Daddy and yes I miss Bobby more than I can explain. Naturally with it being so soon I am having that 'damn! I am never going to be able to see my brother again' feeling. But I realized that as badly as I miss them the person that I miss the most is ME! So with that being said I am going to make a concentrated effort to get back to being the positive, optimistic, humor loving, would rather laugh than cry person that I enjoy being around. You know it really is sad when you realize that you don't even want to be around yourself! It is time to be fun again! Oh, and by the way, the count is over. And to go against what Larry the Cable Guy says, this shit ain't funny I don't care who you are. 115 days with no period and start again! So here we go again. As much as I am going to try to see humor in as much as possible and laugh as much as possible there just is not any in that. Ah well, I warned you before hand that these were misc. ramblings. TTYL
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
I Have a Theory
I will issue a disclaimer here, I really am just rambling. I could rant but just don't have the energy and am in the sort of mood that I could work up a good rant about lots of different stuff so I am going to be kind to all of us. Anyway, I have a theory. I am on the menopause count again. 110 days, so that puts me at almost 1/3 of the way there. I have heard women over the years talk about thinning hair as they entered menopause. Well girls, here is my theory. It doesn't thin it just moves! In giving away some of Bobby's things I wisely held onto his mustache trimmer. I use it to trim mine! Now we know that I haven't slowed down much in the past month. But one thing that I don't think I have shared is that I avoid mirrors as much as possible. Vanity is really not one of my bigger faults, there is a long list ahead of that. However, getting home this evening I was wiping my eye makeup off and happened to look in the mirror. OMG! I had a fu man chu going on! (and while I realize that is probably not spelled correctly, ya'll know what I am talking about). Grabbed the trimmer and went to work. I also have hair on my chest now that I never had before. Now I have never had any body waxing but if it comes in a 5 gallon bucket then we may have to rethink this thing. I sometimes feel like a kiwi that has mold growing on it. Ah, come on now, ya'll have seen them and know how fuzzy they can get! Ah well, I guess it is what it is and I will continue to trim and pluck and shave. And hopefully in 255 more days I can say YES! Have a great day/evening depending on where you are and when you read. (See wasn't that chuckle you got better than hearing me bitch!)
Saturday, September 8, 2012
3 Damn Long Years
It has been 3 years ago today that I became a widow. Time does help and I guess in some ways it does get easier, I guess. I realize that I am probably more 'in tune' with it than I might have otherwise been had I not lost my brother this week to the very same cancer that made me a widow. Oddly enough I had said that I knew I was being selfish but I hoped that Gerald did not die on the same day as Bobby. And he didn't, kinda. The date was different but about 2/3 of the way into my trip I realized that they both died the Tues. morning after Labor Day. So even though the date was different in an odd sort of way it was the same. In talking with my sister-in-law on Wed. I told her how scary it was for me to be 50 years old and on my own for the very first time in my entire life. I shared with her how I just wanted to curl up and die myself and while it would have been very easy to don my 'widow's weeds' and just go to work and then go home I made my mind up that if I did then the cancer had defeated us both and I would be damned if I let it take me with it too.
In many ways these 6 months since my brother was diagnosed for me have been like reliving it all again with Bobby. My brother was a wonderful man and made a great impact on a tremendous amount of people. As with Bobby and now with Gerald I hope that when my time is over that I will be as well remembered as they have been.
In the mean time I will say again if what I went through with Bobby was to prepare me to help my family through all this with Gerald then I am honored to be able to do so. Even though my heart is broken right now and I fell like an injured dog that just wants to go off by itself and lick its wounds I still say there is joy in the journey.
In many ways these 6 months since my brother was diagnosed for me have been like reliving it all again with Bobby. My brother was a wonderful man and made a great impact on a tremendous amount of people. As with Bobby and now with Gerald I hope that when my time is over that I will be as well remembered as they have been.
In the mean time I will say again if what I went through with Bobby was to prepare me to help my family through all this with Gerald then I am honored to be able to do so. Even though my heart is broken right now and I fell like an injured dog that just wants to go off by itself and lick its wounds I still say there is joy in the journey.
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Shared
The following is a post of my daughter's that she posted to her blog a couple of days ago that I am compelled to share. The picture at the end is her tattoo which she got to honor her Papaw and her Daddy. Mine is going to be identical.
Let's be honest, September Sucks---Be warned this is a little long
I
am not a person to air dirty laundry or things along those lines. I pride
myself on holding stuff close to vest, except where those closest to me are
concerned then I am an open book including table of contents, and appendix. So
I briefly shall explain why September for all intents and purposes sucks
royally.
I am a person who trust whole heartedly until given a reason not to, once a reason is presented, I am done. I love the same way. If you are "in my circle" you are in and there is nothing within my power I wouldn't do for anyone "in my circle". I get it honest, it's genetic. Once your in, your in for life.
When I was growing up there was a man in my life that was without a doubt one of the greatest men the good Lord above put on this earth. I lovingly called him Papaw-I named him seeing as how I was the lucky one being the first grand kid. Papaw called me Monkey as long as I could remember. The man was small man by measure but in my eyes he was ten feet tall and bullet proof and had a green thumb that would make Martha Stewart seethe with jealousy. Every summer until I was 16 I spent the week of July 4th with him, just us, till he remarried and the other grand kids got potty trained (Papaw's rule you had to be able to go by yourself, to go by yourself). Once some of the grandsons were able to go on the journey with us. The only trip the two oldest and two youngest (at the time) made together has been talked about for the last 16 years. There is a picture on facebook that will give you an idea of the way the trip went. But I digress. Papaw was a truck driver, who never failed to make me car sick in his little car but made his big rig ride like a Caddy. This little giant managed to survive and aneurysm, only losing his sense of smell. Ironically enough he only liked one type of body was...Country apple from Bath and Body works, and the man knew the difference. However he was diagnosed with colon cancer. We watched this man who set the standard for which I measured men, turn into a man who couldn't beat the monster that took control of his body. He passed away in September 2000.
Then came September 2009. After an 18 month roller coaster with as many ups as downs, I had to call my older siblings and say, "you need to get here, you need to get here now." In the days that followed, there were some many laughs and tears. I can't tell you the number of times I said prayers to just let it be peaceful. That Saturday night, I had to curl up beside my daddy and tell him that it was ok, that we would be ok and he didn't have to hang on just for us. I can not begin to tell you how bad it hurt, and how it felt like such a huge lie. I also had to curl up beside this man who loved his grandchildren and children as much as he loved life itself, and tell him how much I appreciated him being there when I needed him and how much I loved him. We had him surrounded by his grand kids, who would wonder in and out saying how much they loved their Poppa. September 8 was the last day of the battle. The monster won again. That made the second time, a man that I considered larger than life who had to face the giant.
On to March 2012. I found out one night while at my mom's for supper that her youngest brother was having some stomach issues. Immediately we were worried, though being a family of bright siders we didn't show it. As test were run, we still saw the bright side. Then the day came, the news came. It's cancer, stomach cancer. He was 42 at the time, with a daughter getting ready to graduate college, and one in elementary school, and a step-son finishing his first year of college, and another step-son who was newly engaged. Yes, you can imagine how many times, why him was uttered. Shortly after his diagnoses, his brother was diagnosed with multiple myolomia. While younger brother was given a promising outlook, older brother's wasn't looking so bright. Some how fate decided to pull the ole switcheroo. The beginning of August brought about a long stay in the hospital for younger brother. Well last Friday, I get a phone call I had once had to make. Get here and get here quick. The doctors said two weeks to two months. Now anyone that has ever had to hear those words knows that it is like a ton of cinder blocks are dropped onto you from a crane 400 feet in the air. Thankfully hubs was able to load up and go with the boys and I. We head out Friday, getting there late Friday night, and go to the hospital Saturday morning. Walking into that room, I saw a man who I will always remember as being a cowboy in the true sense of the word. I saw a man who once served his country in the Army. I also saw a man who was enjoying the friends and family there to spend what could be his last days with him, he laughed, and smiled, and told story after story. I also saw a man that the monster who had taken my two first true heroes was doing it's very best to take a third. It was slowly winning. After a good visit over the weekend, I got to spend a few minutes just us. I told him how much I loved him and how much I appreciated the fact that even though we didn't see or talk to each other everyday, I always knew he was a phone call away. No matter the problem, how big or small, I knew he was there.
So as much as it hurts already, the Monster is going to win again. It will win again in September. September will forever be the most dreaded month of the year. We are still holding on to youngest brother, and he is still fighting as much as he can. Sadly the harder he fights, the stronger the monster gets.
We will trek up the mountain to visit with the family tomorrow. I realize there is an entirely to strong possibility that after this weekend I may never see him again. I have full intentions to tell him again just how much I love him, and how much I am gonna miss him, but will have to say the words all over again, we are gonna be ok.
The monster has apparently developed a liking of my family and I wished it would leave us the hell alone.
I am a person who trust whole heartedly until given a reason not to, once a reason is presented, I am done. I love the same way. If you are "in my circle" you are in and there is nothing within my power I wouldn't do for anyone "in my circle". I get it honest, it's genetic. Once your in, your in for life.
When I was growing up there was a man in my life that was without a doubt one of the greatest men the good Lord above put on this earth. I lovingly called him Papaw-I named him seeing as how I was the lucky one being the first grand kid. Papaw called me Monkey as long as I could remember. The man was small man by measure but in my eyes he was ten feet tall and bullet proof and had a green thumb that would make Martha Stewart seethe with jealousy. Every summer until I was 16 I spent the week of July 4th with him, just us, till he remarried and the other grand kids got potty trained (Papaw's rule you had to be able to go by yourself, to go by yourself). Once some of the grandsons were able to go on the journey with us. The only trip the two oldest and two youngest (at the time) made together has been talked about for the last 16 years. There is a picture on facebook that will give you an idea of the way the trip went. But I digress. Papaw was a truck driver, who never failed to make me car sick in his little car but made his big rig ride like a Caddy. This little giant managed to survive and aneurysm, only losing his sense of smell. Ironically enough he only liked one type of body was...Country apple from Bath and Body works, and the man knew the difference. However he was diagnosed with colon cancer. We watched this man who set the standard for which I measured men, turn into a man who couldn't beat the monster that took control of his body. He passed away in September 2000.
Then came September 2009. After an 18 month roller coaster with as many ups as downs, I had to call my older siblings and say, "you need to get here, you need to get here now." In the days that followed, there were some many laughs and tears. I can't tell you the number of times I said prayers to just let it be peaceful. That Saturday night, I had to curl up beside my daddy and tell him that it was ok, that we would be ok and he didn't have to hang on just for us. I can not begin to tell you how bad it hurt, and how it felt like such a huge lie. I also had to curl up beside this man who loved his grandchildren and children as much as he loved life itself, and tell him how much I appreciated him being there when I needed him and how much I loved him. We had him surrounded by his grand kids, who would wonder in and out saying how much they loved their Poppa. September 8 was the last day of the battle. The monster won again. That made the second time, a man that I considered larger than life who had to face the giant.
On to March 2012. I found out one night while at my mom's for supper that her youngest brother was having some stomach issues. Immediately we were worried, though being a family of bright siders we didn't show it. As test were run, we still saw the bright side. Then the day came, the news came. It's cancer, stomach cancer. He was 42 at the time, with a daughter getting ready to graduate college, and one in elementary school, and a step-son finishing his first year of college, and another step-son who was newly engaged. Yes, you can imagine how many times, why him was uttered. Shortly after his diagnoses, his brother was diagnosed with multiple myolomia. While younger brother was given a promising outlook, older brother's wasn't looking so bright. Some how fate decided to pull the ole switcheroo. The beginning of August brought about a long stay in the hospital for younger brother. Well last Friday, I get a phone call I had once had to make. Get here and get here quick. The doctors said two weeks to two months. Now anyone that has ever had to hear those words knows that it is like a ton of cinder blocks are dropped onto you from a crane 400 feet in the air. Thankfully hubs was able to load up and go with the boys and I. We head out Friday, getting there late Friday night, and go to the hospital Saturday morning. Walking into that room, I saw a man who I will always remember as being a cowboy in the true sense of the word. I saw a man who once served his country in the Army. I also saw a man who was enjoying the friends and family there to spend what could be his last days with him, he laughed, and smiled, and told story after story. I also saw a man that the monster who had taken my two first true heroes was doing it's very best to take a third. It was slowly winning. After a good visit over the weekend, I got to spend a few minutes just us. I told him how much I loved him and how much I appreciated the fact that even though we didn't see or talk to each other everyday, I always knew he was a phone call away. No matter the problem, how big or small, I knew he was there.
So as much as it hurts already, the Monster is going to win again. It will win again in September. September will forever be the most dreaded month of the year. We are still holding on to youngest brother, and he is still fighting as much as he can. Sadly the harder he fights, the stronger the monster gets.
We will trek up the mountain to visit with the family tomorrow. I realize there is an entirely to strong possibility that after this weekend I may never see him again. I have full intentions to tell him again just how much I love him, and how much I am gonna miss him, but will have to say the words all over again, we are gonna be ok.
The monster has apparently developed a liking of my family and I wished it would leave us the hell alone.
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