Never Give Up

Crafting the best out of a bad situation has been one of my talents. When tossed into a this sucks situation I made my little lists of how to get away from, change or completely turn it around. After the pros and cons of each, the winner waves. It sounds so easy. 

Sometimes staying focused on the solution took more strength than I knew I had. The day my husband crawled into the house on all fours began an odyssey of daily pain for him and oh, my God, what do I do stress for me that lasted twenty-five years.

How he endured the weight-bearing pain in his lumbar spine, I’ll never know. When my arthritis acts up I can go straight to crabby bitch. Pictures of him smiling and laughing show his joy. Condemned to a sedentary life in pain; that’s no easy sentence, but he would be the one to see the woodland flowers blooming under the snow or the first robin of spring.

When a man can no longer work and provide it can sap his spirit; my husband struggled for his. In the Workman’s Compensation case insurance company lawyers referred to him as lazy and looking for a free ride. The tone they took with him made me want to smash their faces. He was down; the system was created to support him, but they whipped him mercilessly for years before he got anything. God help young workers today.

Kirt had always wanted me to stay home; he was old school that way. I liked working and money was a real hit; but ten acres, horses, chickens, cows, and dogs persuaded me to stay home happily.

A few years later, I no longer had a career and he had an accident. I couldn’t leave him at home alone for more than brief periods.

My idyllic life of playing with horses and dogs came to a screeching halt along with Kirt’s paycheck. Holy shit, I didn’t see that one coming. We were so happy; we loved our place next to the woods. My life was so rattled, but I had to be strong; my problems paled in comparison to my husband’s pain.

We sold our treasures, tomatoes, and eggs; the people who trained dogs with me on Monday night offered to pay. My fledgling dog business began. I worked ten years straight without a single day off. My business that began under some harsh circumstances grew to one day employ as many as twenty people, so I can honestly say we made the best our of a bad situation.

As we stood in the gateway of our home for the last time Kirt asked, “Any wishes or regrets?”  I burst into tears,” To do it all over again except your accident!”   

Who

Who are you?

Who, not what, like wife, dog trainer, etc.

For almost a year and a half I've been screaming that I don’t know who I am without my husband. Being alone with a stranger sucks!

Who, as in one who stops to soak in sunsets; that’s a facet falling under nature lover, a big fan of God’s handiwork.

Accepting the bad which always goes with good is the lesson. It’s the bitch slap to get my attention before the lesson can begin. Ouch!

The need to make it better part of my makeup kicks in constantly, saving had become my specialty. How many times do I have to stuff a sock in my mouth? Bromides spewed without a wanting ear falls like spittle. I need a sign on my forehead. Smile. Shut the fuck will do for me and you.

Who I am is a heterosexual woman without her man. We hugged and kissed liberally during the day. He pinched my breast and smacked my ass. Love lit his eyes when he looked at me. Sad.

Honor and value, the depth of relationship possible between two flawed human beings. He and I did so well; now, no one knows me and few care.

 Left on my own, my lesson to be learned is, duh, what?

Be strong, hang in there because this feels like an essential lesson.

Kirt, my honey, had a tattoo of a duck pointing to itself saying,

“Who, me?”

I miss my smartass little duck.

Into the Fire

It's not bad enough that I'm sad and lonely, apprehensive about a future alone. I must at this point remind myself why Kirt and I preferred to  be away from my family. 

I"m going to take care of my 88 yr old manipulative, domineering aunt, who is also sweet and loving and all of those things a southern belle manages so well.

I'll teach her mutual respect and compromise or leave. It has to be that way. In my family I always ended up feeling guilty and inadequate. My husband really loved me, which taught me to love myself. 

I have to learn how to say, "F you!" in a nice way, I'm so hostile. 

Margaret is the queen of my way or no way. We both had husbands who spoiled us.  

We'll either work it out to live together compatibly or I hate to think. 

I don't intend to allow my life to be trashed for family duty, this needs to be good for both of us. 

I have a friend who takes excellent care of her mother. She caters to that ungrateful woman, who never has a good thing to say to her or about her. I've wanted to tell the old girl how lucky she is; "I'd have put your behind in a nursing home a long time ago."  Grrr.

Ok, a few deep breaths, calm down, lower the blood pressure. 

My family is still embroiled in all the negative psychological stratagems/shit that screwed me up in the first place. 

I must add that I love these people and they love me. Love isn't the issue; how we behave is the issue.

Welcome home almost feels like a threat with out Kirt to balance them out. 

God, if this is a test; give me strength, please.