FOREVER

Yesterday, while I was sitting here I suddenly got inspired to write a poem. I know! Poetry! YUCK! Hey, you have to run with inspiration when it strikes, no matter what direction it takes you in, right? So, humor me by holding your nose and reading my heart-felt words. Mildred is really trying to heal and come home...

It's a good thing I was by myself when I wrote this poem because I cried the whole time I was writing it. Yes, I actually wrote it and didn't type it. There's something about holding a pencil that seems to stir something in me, but it's difficult to stay inspired with a snotty nose and tears dripping all over the place. Somehow, I managed to find the "right" words and finish the poem. My first draft I emailed to my "bestie" and of course, she thought it was lovely. But, I'm wondering if she thought it sucked if she would have told me to go back to the drawing board and keep working. That thought brought a smile to my face... 

Forever

 One moment she was breathing

And then nothing filled her eyes.

I can’t prevent the ending…

Forever

She gifted me with life and love.

Now, outstretched while growing cold.

And from her death tears erupted…

Forever

 My whole life changed that moment.

And my heart won’t be the same.

Still somehow, I march forward…

Forever

 A crushing grief weights my soul.

While trying to drown the pain

 Prevents this crevice from closing…

Forever

You never thought I listened.

While you showed me who I am

I hope you knew I loved you…

Forever

 As time grew near to free you

My heart was opened wide.

That moment remains eternal…

Forever

 The moments when I need you.

You tell me to reach inside.

I get my strength from you…

Forever

You’re all around me always.

A deafening silence holds you there.

You will live on inside me…

Forever

I know how things must happen.

Reality stares me in the eyes.

Until someday I join you…

Forever

 And while my heart is healing

I still have these tears to cry

But each sunset brings a sunrise…

Forever.

💔

by Mildred Ratched

22 Feb 2021

THERE'S A TRAITOR IN THE HOUSE!

Lately, my mindless distraction has been doing genealogy research. This isn't something new for me. In fact, I started poking around in my family tree back in the 1990's. Since then, I've found many interesting facts regarding my ancestry and a lot of not so interesting facts. I guess you have to take the good with the bad!

Since my family is all from New England finding out I had ties to the Mayflower and the Salem witches came as no surprise to me. In fact, I'm related to a dozens of the witches. Elizabeth "Goody" Proctor is my 9th great grandmother.  She's the one the book, The Crucible was written about so when it's a full moon and I get a yearning to rip my clothes off and dance naked in the backyard now I know why or at least I have a story I can tell the police when they come to get me. Speaking of books and authors...Laura Ingalls Wilder (Little House On The Prairie) is a cousin, also, but I don't think I have that prairie thing going on, but Mildred definitely can rock a witch's hat!

Today wasn't a great day for discovery. Benedict Arnold popped up. I know all families have skeletons and scalawags, but traitors??? Okay! I guess I'll have to own it. It's not a close tie. He's like a 4th cousin 8 times removed. That doesn't even qualify as a kissing cousin, does it? Who of you out there understand the generational relationship when someone says so and so is 2nd cousin 3 times removed or 2 times removed? Anyway, I'll take Benedict Arnold just as long as I don't find out I'm related to Donald Trump. I know there's a fat chance of that happening because all my DNA is planted in the British Isles. I better shut up. He might have a smidgeon of Irish or Scottish tucked up his fat ass somewhere and it really would make me cry if I found out we're kissing cousins.

Speaking of crying, yesterday while sitting at a traffic light I had my one of my "moments." There was a lone bird sitting on a wire and as I watched it, I started crying. Now, as I type this I'm starting to cry again. My mother used to tell me that all birds sit on wires in the same direction. I used to tell her she's crazy. Every time I'd see birds, I'd always look and they'd never be sitting the same way. Where she got that idea I never knew, but it became a standard joke my kids and I would tease her about. Yesterday, there was just one little bird sitting alone and it made me cry. The flood gates opened and I cried all the way to the doctor's office.

I went there because I haven't been feeling well. That was an ordeal! No one there knew my mother had passed away. No, I don't want anything to help me to sleep! No, I don't want an anti-depressant. I just want my stomach to feel better (I have serious digestive issues) and I want my blood pressure to behave itself. My doc changed my blood pressure med and decided to let my gastro doc handle the other issues since I had an appointment with her today. Maybe I'll be able to sleep better and actually eat food once in awhile. That'll certainly improve my whole outlook or at least make my digestive system do a happy dance. Does anyone remember what it felt like when you were a kid and you just felt good? Well, that's my goal! I want to remember what good feels like. Not great, but good. I know there's going to be days when I hurt, but I'm tired of this "golden years" bullshit that we get fed and then we get here and it's a bunch of lies and bullshit. 

My goal tomorrow is to do some more work on the bedroom so I can work towards getting it ready to move into it EVENTUALLY. My kids are worried that it will bother me to move into my mother's old bedroom, but I think I'm okay with it and of course, my dogs are okay with wherever I am as long as they get at least 75% of my bed. 

HELP!

I'm drowning in grief and my "g" keeps sticking on my keyboard. That's probably some kind of prophetic sign. Maybe it's time for a new laptop, but honestly I haven't been this broke since...well, I don't remember how long it's been. Times are hard for everyone. I sit here alone day after day. I don't even go outside anymore. My backyard is no longer my sanctuary. The birds must hate me because I no longer feed them. My dogs are my only solace...and my adult children, but they work and well, I just don't want them to worry about me. My stomach hurts and I have trouble sleeping. The fucking G is starting to piss me off! Too many things piss me off like the roof leaking and all the repairs that need to be done. I keep looking at everything that needs to be done, but I honestly don't have the energy or the motivation to do anything about anything and even if I did have the motivation, it wouldn't matter because I don't have the money. I just feel so overwhelmed because for the last twenty years I've spent takin (oh, fuck that "g") care of my parents and now, I have no purpose or direction. I feel totally lost and I don't know what to do. It scares me to feel this way.

I can't go out to my mother's art studio without crying. I don't know what I'm going to do with all her artwork. There's probably at least thousand paintings out there. Her bedroom needs to be cleaned out and I can't seem to even do that. And then there's the matter of business stuff I need to do...the will, getting the deed to the house transferred to my name, checking on why the life insurance has been so slow in paying the claim, etc. I just can't seem to do anything. All I do is sit here and watch the news and oh boy, that's going to cheer me up! 

I don't even have any words for the depths of the despair I feel towards what has happened to this country lately. For a moment I had a glimmer of hope and then it was all snuffed out. I never thought I'd see a sitting president damage our great nation in the ways that Donald Trump has damaged and divided it. 

I stopped going on Facebook...I guess loneliness has lured back to stay in touch with my friends and family. Desperation will make a person do strange things. So I hold my nose and I log on to that cesspool of hate and discontent. Usually, I don't post anything, but yesterday I couldn't help myself. Afterwards, I felt like I needed to take a shower! Below is what posted:

It really disheartens me by the amount of hate and division people seem willing to spread instead of trying to start to mend this great divide we have in our country. Why do people keep posting inflammatory things on their Facebook pages and then act wounded when someone challenges what they post? Look, if you don’t want controversy then don’t post controversy. Yes, you have a right to your opinion, but if you post something, don’t whine like a little girl if someone disagrees with you because everyone is entitled to their opinion and opinions vary. They always will!

Unfortunately, in these times people are going to lose friends because let’s face it...politics and religion are two controversial subjects and unless we learn to listen to one another with empathy and without bloodshed this country is in real jeopardy. I think each of us needs to give that some serious thought. We aren’t enemies. We’re Americans and we need to start acting like Americans. We need to come together and heal this country. Remember united we stand, divided we fall...and we WILL fall if we don’t get our act together. The solution to the problem will not be accomplished through violence or division!

ROSALIE

The focus of my last few decades has been primarily towards caring for my elderly parents. My father (actually my step-father, but he was the father I never had growing up, so he got a promotion a long time ago to being referred to as my "father") passed away in 2008 leaving a huge crater in many people's lives. Around that time was when the aliens came and abducted my mother and she began what I called her Empty Pod Stage (EPS). 

The doctors said she had Alzheimer's. I disagreed. I was right. They were wrong, but it took many years to coax her back into the land of the living. She obviously had some kind of breakdown. So many things happened in rapid succession that I think it overloaded her brain. It all started with her having breast cancer. She never reacted like anyone else being told they had cancer. She reacted more like she was told she had a fart crosswise and all she had to do is take a double dose of Gas-X to get some relief. Her reaction was almost eerie. Then there was the Category 4...almost a 5 hurricane that hit us directly. She totally lost it and wanted to be taken to the hospital. I'm sorry, but ambulances don't run in 150 mph winds. In fact, nothing runs in that kind of wind storm. 

She also had her driving privileges taken away from her and that hit her hard. In fact, that hit her harder than having cancer. That made her mad, but having cancer didn't! I never understood that one. I was relieved when they took her license because my mother had to be one of the worst driver's on the road. For 25 years before they took her license, I wouldn't ride with her if she was behind the wheel. If we went anywhere, I drove. In all honesty, she really was an accident waiting to happen. It probably was a blessing she didn't learn to drive until she was 30 something years old. 

Then there was decline of my father's health (cardiac and kidneys) which led to his demise. I suppose a person can only take so much before their mind goes into survival mode. That's when the aliens came and rescued my mother leaving behind just an empty pod that looked like her. I took good care of that pod for almost 10 years and then one day, the aliens returned. My mother came home. She started painting again and reading again and doing all the things she used to love to do just like it was only yesterday. She really didn't have any memories of that time period that stood out in her mind when I questioned her about it. 

What was almost 10 years to me and the rest of the family was at most a few days for her. In all that time she never mentioned my father or his dying. In fact, she did little talking about anything unless I really prodded her into it. Trust me, I tried everything....doctors, therapists, drugs, taking trips "home" to Maine, etc, etc. and NOTHING worked. Time was what she needed, so time was what I gave her. She even fell and broke her hip during the EPS. Now, that was a tricky situation to get her through physical therapy and up walking again, but with determination on my side, she did it and returned home from having surgery and then a 6 week stay in rehab. I know I'm luckier than most people. My mother has been around a very long time. She turned 92 on her last birthday in February.  

On October 24th my mother fell and broke her other hip. 

While she was in the hospital, I kept most people updated about her progress via text or on Facebook. It was easier than to having to repeat the same things 50 times in a row. The only people I actually talked to during this time period other than my children and a few friends were my brothers.

My final update about my mother was written and posted on December 3rd:

This afternoon my mother passed away. While I have to admit that I am relieved that her pain and suffering is finally over, my heart is broken. The sorrow that consumed both my daughter and I as we looked down upon my mother was overwhelming and as I finally walked down that long hallway away from Covenant Care Hospice at West Florida Hospital it took every ounce of strength I had to put one foot in front of the other and leave my mother behind forever.

I can't begin to express the sorrow I feel and how my heart is broken in a million pieces after watching my mother develop pneumonia and A-fib, have a pulmonary embolism, get sepsis from an UTI and lose the ability to swallow and have to have a feeding tube surgical placed in her stomach for nutrition. Basically, she went from being a healthy 92 year old on October 24th to being placed in hospice on December 2nd to dying on December 3rd. 

I'm a grown woman, yet I feel like an orphaned child. I walk around my house and feel her presence everywhere, yet she's gone. I'm okay one minute and I'm crying like a baby the next. I don't even know if that's what I'm suppose to do. I keep asking myself, "What am I suppose to do with myself now?"  I never gave this day any thought. I never thought about me in the grand scheme of things. My focus was always on other people...always on my step-father and on my mother. Thinking about myself now feels so foreign. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sad and I just want to feel like I have a purpose. I just want to feel  something other than feeling this horrible sadness.

This photo was taken not long after my mother was first admitted to the hospital. It's nice to see that she was still capable of smiling here.

At this point I think I had accepted my mother's fate...

When she was moved to hospice, I covered her with the afghan her mother had made for her. I wanted her to feel close to her mother. For some reason, I felt that was important. She always kept this afghan folded at the end of her bed. Her mother, my grandmother passed away in 1974. 

Surgery on the 9th

Instead of remaining MIA, I felt a short explanation was appropriate.  This surgery is something I've been putting off for quite awhile and I'll post more details about it after I have it done on the 9th.  Right now, I've been trying to finish up all the hurricane clean-up, etc. and to prepare myself mentally for having more surgery.  

Hurricane Blues

My power went out at 8:05pm on the 15th.  Periodic trips to my car to charge my cellphone has kept me partially sane and connected to the rest of the world.  Eventually, I’ll be back if anyone is wondering what happened to me.  No, I didn’t blow away!  I been through much worse storms than Hurricane Sally, but I do have to admit she surprised most everyone around here.  I’ll post pictures, etc when I have electricity and internet again.  Until then, let’s hope the Gulf of Mexico remains peaceful.