Well, this has been a week of eye wash on demand, especially if one considers tears that fall involuntarily a simple eye wash. The 'on-demand' part just means that thinking about Fang caused my eyes to blur with tears. And what really seems strange is the happy parts that still made me cry. A visit to Betty J. had us both in tears when we talked about our husbands. Then a message on the answering machine caused so much distress that tears were right on the surface for the rest of the day and into the evening. By the time dinner was served by the hosts of Under Angels Wings, several of us had cried together again. Yet we were able to find a good laugh when told the story of a friend who had stepped on her boob---after surgery for breast cancer, she had one of those bras with inserts that looked like boobs. She dropped one on the floor and accidentally stepped on it. Then she went in and told her husband that she had had a terrible accident. All concerned, he asked whatever had she done to hurt herself. "Oh," she said, "I didn't hurt myself; I just stepped on one of my boobs."
When we finished laughing at that story, we had a wonderful potluck dinner and visited for a couple of hours. Each of us comes from totally different backgrounds, but we all have some traumatic loss in our lives--husbands, children, parents, siblings--even a divorce. No matter what the cause, we needed the reassurance of like-minded friends to help us through this part of our lives. It doesn't help for anyone to tell us that time will heal, we will get over it, or that we should 'get on' with our lives. We are irreparably scarred by this experience. And we hurt. However, it helps to know that others have been where we are and were able to get their minds back to some semblance of normal. The immediate two or three weeks after Fang's death are a fog in the back of my mind by now. Our daughter reminded me of something that happened shortly after his death, and it simply was not 'there' for me. It undoubtedly happened, but my memory just did not record it.
Today should have been a fairly decent day. A friend whose husband died last December came by and picked me up for a run around town to several of her errand sites. We talked almost non-stop going from one place to the other. Then we had breakfast at a place we both know and enjoy--Pioneer of Texas on Maplewood Avenue. Again, the waitress knows us and was so sweet. The food was good, and the chatter was simply special with several good laughs. Then when I opened the front door of my house, a special UPS delivery (next day air) was in between the inner and outer door. That was a relief! Now I don't have to deal with Ameritrade or any of their financial brokers ever again. When the check clears, I can leave an account open for the estate affairs and go on with whatever I need to do without someone trying to tell me that I am not handling money wisely. Plus, the lady at the bank was able to tell me how to invest the funds for the most interest without any fees attached or any risk involved. Whew! It is simple; but I would never have known that without having gone through this other mess with a financial broker. I think the word broker is pretty well descriptive. 'Nuff said, I suppose.
The neighbor down the hill came this evening and put extra screws in the car shed roof and in its legs to better anchor the thing against the constant wind we have on this hill. When it was built, the men used the least amount of screws necessary. Their technique might have been fine and dandy in a state that has no wind, but in this part of Texas, we have wind when we don't have anything else. Anyway, he and I talked about the old dog he loved for 14 years that died last night. I had already heard from his wife about Max, and we had both shed some more tears together. Dang! No one knows how important love is to a person until that love has to be put away. Our old cat has been slowing down a bit more every day, and I just dread the day that he curls up somewhere and gives it up. He is over 12 years old now and skinny beyond belief despite foods that should be putting weight on him. But he still purrs and sheds hair all over me when he rubs up under my chin and paws my arms. He has no kitten left in him, but he is as loving as he ever was.
I guess I don't have any 'kitten' in me either at this point in my life. Kitten, kid, or filly...whatever that youthful little spark is that keeps a gleam in our eyes...it just isn't there at the moment. Who knows, maybe someday it might light up inside again. But right now it's still eye-wash time and more solemnity than the proverbial judge. Eventually that will have to change if possible, but it may take a real effort to find joy in the little things of life. Ah well, fall might bring some rains and that HAS to be a better portion for everyone in this part of the world.