I finished with my therapies by 11 AM today. 11 is really early since I'm scheduled for 85 minutes/day.
So, now I'm bored.
They are now letting me have ibuprofen and I'm feeling better. It's funny that feeling better leads to boredom. I have my computer, kindle and TV for entertainment. I had hoped to be exploring Portland during June, not recuperating.
I laid down from 11-12:30. My butt hurt so bad from the lumpy mattress that I got into my wheelchair. I sat outside for awhile. Now I'm in the dining room waiting for bingo to start. I hope it's not too too lame.
Bingo was okay. Play is slow for the more handicapped people.
I've engaged a lawyer to help me with the bus company responsible for my injury. She has a good reputation. It's an Oregon law that cases do not drag on for years.
This is the third time that my life was changed in an instant. In 1969 a car rammed my car into a tree. I lost my kneecap causing a permanent injury. At the time of the accident I was midway in my second year in college. I had to miss 2 semesters to recuperate.
In 2010 my husband and best friend fell injuring his spinal cord and became quadriplegic. My life as I had known it ended. For months I took care of him and my elderly mother. Besides the amount of work I also was suffering from a kind of post traumatic stress disorder. Visiting TIRR, the specialty hospital for spinal cord injuries, exposed me to so much pain and suffering. Young wives would be pushing baby carriages next to their husbands in wheelchairs. There were people suffering brain injuries screaming and crying. Then, of course, I had to learn how to take care of my permanently paralyzed husband. (It turned out that he also had a brain injury. Subsequently, he decided he never loved me and we were divorced.)
Now it's 2017. I worked so so hard to move to Portland. I had to sort all my possessions. Pack up what I could and sell my house. I arrived in Portland on May 19, 2017 ready to make a new life for myself. 3 days later I was walking my dog and was hit by a city bus. My hip was broken, suffered a concussion and many cuts and bruises. I had emergency surgery and stayed at a trauma hospital for 4 days. Now I'm in my third week at a skilled nursing facility. I am thrilled that I did not suffer a brain or spinal cord injury. Nonetheless, my life has been changed and set on a different course.
I now have a permanently injured right hip. I'm learning how to walk with a walker. I'm using some of the same equipment here that was used at TIRR. I'm surrounded by injured people. It's very difficult for me. I can't help but relive some of the memories of the pain I suffered during my husband's stay at TIRR.
I am working hard at rehab. It hurts- a lot. But, that's the only way that I can recuperate. I don't know how much of a disability this injury will cause me.
This is definitely not how I imagined my life would be like in Portland. The injury will make my transition so much more difficult. I can't go out and explore the city. I'm lucky that I can use the walker to make it down the hall.
Maybe this will be the last major life altering incident that will happen to me. But, then again, maybe not.
Showing posts with label lifestyle change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lifestyle change. Show all posts
Thursday, June 8, 2017
Friday, May 19, 2017
Day 5: We reach Oregon!
In the morning we had breakfast at the Black Bear Diner in a town just outside of Salt Lake City.
We drove all the way across Utah.
Then we drove across Idaho.
We stopped at Eden, Idaho for lunch at the Garden of Eden truck stop.
We drove 700 miles today stopping at Pendleton, Oregon for the night. Pendleton is such a pretty town. There is a walkway along the river. I wanted to stop in Pendleton because I hope I can go into the woolen mill tomorrow.
We have just a little over 200 miles left until we reach Portland!
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
2017 May: Trip to Portland: Day 4
We started our morning in Montrose, Colorado. We stopped in Montrose - cause its name is Montrose. It is larger than Trinidad but not as cute.
It was in the 40's. I was excited that I got to wear jeans again. We walked to a coffee shop with a patio for breakfast. It was closed that week. So Andy ran into a McDonald's and we ate at a little table on the corner.
We went back and packed up the motel room at the Black Canyon Inn. Andy had to lift up the mattress and box springs to get to Stella and put her in the car with us.
It didn't take long for us to make it into Utah. The area around Moab was really cool. But after Moab the terrain became very rocky and desolate looking.
We stopped in Green River, Utah for lunch and a stretch. The cafe had coffee bags and Van Gogh prints decorating the ceiling. The proprietor was a character. She said that the city had just gotten phone service a couple years ago and they were still adjusting to the new technology. Personally she preferred the old method of smoke signals. One great thing - Sweetsie was able to come to the cafe with us. Another dog was asleep in the middle of the floor.
It was in the 40's. I was excited that I got to wear jeans again. We walked to a coffee shop with a patio for breakfast. It was closed that week. So Andy ran into a McDonald's and we ate at a little table on the corner.
We went back and packed up the motel room at the Black Canyon Inn. Andy had to lift up the mattress and box springs to get to Stella and put her in the car with us.
After breakfast Sweetsie was ready for another nap.
It started raining and getting cold.
We passed by wind mills among the rocky cliffs.
Another big storm was brewing after we passed Provo so we stopped just outside of Salt Lake City. It was about 5 PM so we wanted to avoid traffic, too. This time we plugged the holes under the bed so Stella wouldn't be able to burrow into the box springs and hide. Right now she is wandering around the room searching for a good hiding place. She ate a little of my hamburger. At least she ate something. We were getting worried about her.
Another big storm was brewing after we passed Provo so we stopped just outside of Salt Lake City. It was about 5 PM so we wanted to avoid traffic, too. This time we plugged the holes under the bed so Stella wouldn't be able to burrow into the box springs and hide. Right now she is wandering around the room searching for a good hiding place. She ate a little of my hamburger. At least she ate something. We were getting worried about her.
Sweetsie continues to be in doggy heaven. She has me to sit on in the car during the day and Andy takes her out for long walks. She cries whenever Andy leaves the room. I told him that he should stay in Portland with us.
Tuesday, May 16, 2017
2017 May: On the road to Portland:Day 3
The residents are so proud of their town that even the bricks are printed with "Trinidad." There is also a sign on a hill, just like in Hollywood.
After the cafe we walked around the town and found a pretty pink building and several pot shops.
We stopped for lunch in Westcliff, CO at "Chappy's."
Check out the menu.
After lunch we drove through Gunnison, CO. More spectacular scenery -
I took the picture of the black canyon out the side window of the car.
We stopped at Montrose, CO for the night. We had to find a restaurant with a patio so the dog could be with us. It was a little chilly but we all enjoyed fajitas. Definitely not Tex-Mex- the meat was like what you get in a Philly Cheesesteak. It tasted good nonetheless.
Tomorrow we plan on spending the night in Salt Lake City, Utah.
Monday, May 15, 2017
2017-May: The road to Portland:Day 2
I had to move out one day early. The moving company called and gave me a choice of Sunday or Tuesday. They said they had to cancel me on Monday. So, I stayed up all night. I ended up throwing out so much good stuff at the end. I had already donated tons but I must have owned a few hundred tons of stuff in the beginning.
They finished loading my stuff by 2:00 PM. We were on the road by 2:30 PM. Boy, was I exhausted. We stopped at a Bucky's rest stop. I didn't even recognize myself in the bathroom mirror. My hair was plastered to my head from sweating and my face was all red and puffy from lack of sleep. Andy took pity on me and we stopped after just 6 hours west of Dallas somewhere.
We let the kitty out in the motel room. She was so scared. She wouldn't eat. But, took a drink and used the litter box. Then she hid in the closet.
My dog had a wonderful time sleeping on my lap all day and Andy walked her when we took breaks.
We started driving around 8 AM today. I encourage my son Andy to stop often though. He is used to a Ford truck with a big engine. My car is a great size for me but Andy feels squished in it. The dog needs to pee. I need to get my circulation going in my legs again. So we stop, get a beverage and walk around but the poor kitty continues in her hideout.
I try not to be too needy. I remember driving my mom from Rochester in 2004. I had to do all the driving, fetching and toting bags. It was tough. At least Andy is young and strong. He is being a great son driving his mama and her pets out to Portland in my small, slow Subaru Crosstrek. Maybe I'll forgive him now for the 24 hours of labor he put me through in 1979 - lol!
Tonight we are staying in Trinidad, Colorado. We drove about 10 hours today. Poor Stella, my kitty, is hiding in the closet. I hope she will eat something tonight.
We are a day ahead of what we planned. My lease in Portland doesn't start until May 19th.
Sunday, April 16, 2017
April 16, 2017: getting ready
I've been preparing for my move to Portland for almost a year now. Most of my stuff has either been given away, donated or packed up.
To get ready I made my dog, Sweetsie, a harness so she can sit in her carseat during our trip across country. Then I made her a raincoat for Portland's rains.
She doesn't have the proportions for ready made dog clothes. I could never find a harness to fit her. The smalls are too small around her chest. The mediums are way too large. So I used her long and thin measurements to make her one.
I tried a doggy raincoat from Amazon. It fit her but she wouldn't move. The hood smooshed down her ears. So I made her one from what fabrics I had on hand (not packed yet). I used turquoise oilcloth from Mexico lined with fleece for the body of the coat. The coat is made from one of those heavy plastic bags that pillowcases or napkins are sold in.
The secret to making a doggy raincoat is to make the hood detachable. It's easier to construct and fits over the ears better.
Sweetsie will wear it but she's not too happy about it. But she hates the rain so I think she will learn to appreciate it.
To get ready I made my dog, Sweetsie, a harness so she can sit in her carseat during our trip across country. Then I made her a raincoat for Portland's rains.
She doesn't have the proportions for ready made dog clothes. I could never find a harness to fit her. The smalls are too small around her chest. The mediums are way too large. So I used her long and thin measurements to make her one.
I tried a doggy raincoat from Amazon. It fit her but she wouldn't move. The hood smooshed down her ears. So I made her one from what fabrics I had on hand (not packed yet). I used turquoise oilcloth from Mexico lined with fleece for the body of the coat. The coat is made from one of those heavy plastic bags that pillowcases or napkins are sold in.
The secret to making a doggy raincoat is to make the hood detachable. It's easier to construct and fits over the ears better.
Sweetsie will wear it but she's not too happy about it. But she hates the rain so I think she will learn to appreciate it.
Sunday, February 5, 2017
February 5, 2017: My house is being shown today for the first time.
My house has been stripped bare of personality. It is a blank slate so potential buyers can imagine themselves living in it. Today at 3 a realtor will be showing it to her clients.
Here is a link to my house's listing. The pictures look really good. They don't show my huge laundry room though. I have to take more boxes out to the garage so it will photograph better.
http://www.har.com/5442-Dumfries-Dr/sale_49086669
The house has been a good investment. It's close to the Medical Center and freeway access. If only it could be "beamed" to Portland where it would sell for over a million dollars! I hope to find someplace I can afford there.
Here is a link to my house's listing. The pictures look really good. They don't show my huge laundry room though. I have to take more boxes out to the garage so it will photograph better.
http://www.har.com/5442-Dumfries-Dr/sale_49086669
Monday, January 30, 2017
January 31, 2017
I finished! I've packed up all non-essentials in the house. It took me a month of sorting, organizing, donating, packing to get to this point. Tonight was my first evening "off."
It's been a painful process. I bought my house with loads of promise. I didn't have to do all the work. I had a partner. Now, I'm selling the house - alone.
It is no blessing to have a good memory. I remember who gave me the various gifts for my first wedding or my second wedding- for marriages that were supposed to last a lifetime. I've found cards swearing eternal love from both of my ex-husbands. No point in holding on to them so I threw those notes away.
I'm so envious of people who have had long and mostly happy marriages. Where did I go wrong? I guess I made bad choices. I know I have my shortcomings. Things became difficult but I always remained loyal to my husbands. Unfortunately I did not inspire their loyalty to me.
I'll move to Portland soon and get a fresh start on a new life. I won't be alone there. My son and his family will be my support system.
It's been a painful process. I bought my house with loads of promise. I didn't have to do all the work. I had a partner. Now, I'm selling the house - alone.
It is no blessing to have a good memory. I remember who gave me the various gifts for my first wedding or my second wedding- for marriages that were supposed to last a lifetime. I've found cards swearing eternal love from both of my ex-husbands. No point in holding on to them so I threw those notes away.
I'm so envious of people who have had long and mostly happy marriages. Where did I go wrong? I guess I made bad choices. I know I have my shortcomings. Things became difficult but I always remained loyal to my husbands. Unfortunately I did not inspire their loyalty to me.
I'll move to Portland soon and get a fresh start on a new life. I won't be alone there. My son and his family will be my support system.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
January 18, 2017
Another torrential rainstorm in Houston today! These storms always scare me. At least today I'm at home and not trying to go to work or get back home. The rains started during the night. I decided to not go into the office today. I only work 4 hours on Wednesdays. It didn't seem worth the risk of driving in.
So, I'm back at my manual labor job at home. Still packing and sorting. This weekend I found all my drawing supplies in my laundry room. So, I haven't drawn in a few years. Does that mean I should give all my supplies to Goodwill? But-- when I'm in Portland, I will be retired and have time to draw again.
What about all my jewelry making supplies? Keep some and donate the rest?
Knitting needles, yarns and instruction books- In Portland I'll finally be able to wear the hats and scarves that I knit. I'm trying to use up all my wool yarn to knit a multicolored blanket. After it's finished I plan to wash it in hot water and make the fibers dense (fulling). I gave a bunch of whole skeins to my sewing group, partial skeins to Goodwill and I still had to pack a big box of yarn.
Not to mention my sewing supplies! The realtor said I could keep the sewing machine and fabrics up. She said people would realize that it's a workspace. Wait until I have to sort through all that stuff!
I had a picture in my mind of the apartment that I was moving into - a 2 bedroom in the Heights at Columbia Knoll. It is a low income senior apartment complex. But, then, I got denied admittance. The compliance officer said that I make too much money. It's hard for me to imagine some poor person struggling to survive on my part time job salary. The officer took my current income and added in my potential social security income and decided I would earn over the low income max. But, I may not work after I move. My social security has not started yet. She said I can reapply next year.
That just sucks. She also said they check income yearly. If a tenant earns too much, she is booted out. Imagine being 85 and getting an inheritance and forced to move out. So, maybe it's for the best.
Now I will have to go back to Portland and find an apartment. Then I return home, hire movers and Andy and I will drive my car to Portland. I don't plan on unpacking a bunch of my stuff. I'll probably have to move again after a year. I'm going to spend the year getting to know Portland and deciding where I will finally settle. Maybe I'll be willing to buy a small house then. Right now I'm weary of all the stress and costs that come with home ownership.
So, I'm back at my manual labor job at home. Still packing and sorting. This weekend I found all my drawing supplies in my laundry room. So, I haven't drawn in a few years. Does that mean I should give all my supplies to Goodwill? But-- when I'm in Portland, I will be retired and have time to draw again.
What about all my jewelry making supplies? Keep some and donate the rest?
Knitting needles, yarns and instruction books- In Portland I'll finally be able to wear the hats and scarves that I knit. I'm trying to use up all my wool yarn to knit a multicolored blanket. After it's finished I plan to wash it in hot water and make the fibers dense (fulling). I gave a bunch of whole skeins to my sewing group, partial skeins to Goodwill and I still had to pack a big box of yarn.
Not to mention my sewing supplies! The realtor said I could keep the sewing machine and fabrics up. She said people would realize that it's a workspace. Wait until I have to sort through all that stuff!
I had a picture in my mind of the apartment that I was moving into - a 2 bedroom in the Heights at Columbia Knoll. It is a low income senior apartment complex. But, then, I got denied admittance. The compliance officer said that I make too much money. It's hard for me to imagine some poor person struggling to survive on my part time job salary. The officer took my current income and added in my potential social security income and decided I would earn over the low income max. But, I may not work after I move. My social security has not started yet. She said I can reapply next year.
That just sucks. She also said they check income yearly. If a tenant earns too much, she is booted out. Imagine being 85 and getting an inheritance and forced to move out. So, maybe it's for the best.
Now I will have to go back to Portland and find an apartment. Then I return home, hire movers and Andy and I will drive my car to Portland. I don't plan on unpacking a bunch of my stuff. I'll probably have to move again after a year. I'm going to spend the year getting to know Portland and deciding where I will finally settle. Maybe I'll be willing to buy a small house then. Right now I'm weary of all the stress and costs that come with home ownership.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
November 29, 2016
After my last post I received several messages from friends about my plans to move to Portland, Oregon.
I am not moving for at least a few more months. I have sooo many preparations to make. Besides, the nice weather season has arrived in Houston. This is the best time to live in Houston. I hope to move before the weather gets too unbearably hot again.
I just have so much stuff! I have to sort through it all and keep only some of my things.
This past weekend I've been weeding through my clothes. I just love clothes. I take such good care of them that they seem to last forever (or until they somehow get too small). I took 2 bags and 1 box full of my clothes to Goodwill yesterday.
For the clothes that are just too good to give away I use thredup.com, an online reseller. They decide what items they'll keep and put on their website. The other items they donate to charity. They also decide the prices and do the shipping. It used to be that the company would send out "clean out bags" with a prepaid label. All I had to do was fill up the bags and drop them off at FedEx. They made their money by keeping the lion's share of the items' selling prices. Now they want $9.99 per bag plus their share of the selling price. The fee is deducted from the seller's portion of the sales price or if that doesn't cover the fee they charge you via paypal. Their policy change is very disappointing, but it beats pressing everything, putting them on hangers and hauling them to a resale shop or even worse, holding a garage sale!
Sorry, I've gotten off topic. Once I decide when to make the actually move I will be sure to share it promptly.
I am not moving for at least a few more months. I have sooo many preparations to make. Besides, the nice weather season has arrived in Houston. This is the best time to live in Houston. I hope to move before the weather gets too unbearably hot again.
I just have so much stuff! I have to sort through it all and keep only some of my things.
This past weekend I've been weeding through my clothes. I just love clothes. I take such good care of them that they seem to last forever (or until they somehow get too small). I took 2 bags and 1 box full of my clothes to Goodwill yesterday.
For the clothes that are just too good to give away I use thredup.com, an online reseller. They decide what items they'll keep and put on their website. The other items they donate to charity. They also decide the prices and do the shipping. It used to be that the company would send out "clean out bags" with a prepaid label. All I had to do was fill up the bags and drop them off at FedEx. They made their money by keeping the lion's share of the items' selling prices. Now they want $9.99 per bag plus their share of the selling price. The fee is deducted from the seller's portion of the sales price or if that doesn't cover the fee they charge you via paypal. Their policy change is very disappointing, but it beats pressing everything, putting them on hangers and hauling them to a resale shop or even worse, holding a garage sale!
Sorry, I've gotten off topic. Once I decide when to make the actually move I will be sure to share it promptly.
Thursday, November 24, 2016
November 24, 2016
I was aware that life as I had known it was over. I've recovered from the shock of his accident and I've even gotten over the shock of his later behavior.
But, I'm still mourning the loss of how my life used to be. I was married to my best friend. My mother lived with us. I was never lonely. Of course we had our ups and downs but overall we were happy.
Now I miss the lifestyle. We had a good relationship. We took short trips frequently, played cards with friends, had real conversations, faced life's problems together. I had hoped I could have a similar life again. It's been 6 years and I have been trying to rebuild my life.
I guess I'm lucky that I had those happy 10 years. I still hope to make a happy life for myself. I've learned that I have to be independent. I enjoyed sharing the responsibility of home ownership with my husband. It's difficult to do alone.
I'm ready to give up owning a home. It's so expensive and I worry about flooding, property taxes, roof leaks, etc. etc. My plan is to move to an independent senior living apartment in Portland, Oregon. My rent will cover a 2 bedroom apartment, 2 meals per day, covered parking, maid service and some entertainment. I will have to give up some privacy, a roomy house and 2 of my cats. But, I will be in a group environment and no longer alone. My son, daughter-in-law and 2 grandchildren will only be 6 miles away from my apartment.
The other residents are mostly 10 - 20 years older than me. But the years go by quickly and I'll be the OLD one soon enough.
In my senior years I hope to more fully explore my hobbies, especially doll making, do more exercise, explore the Northwest, go on an Alaskan cruise, travel and spend lots of time with my grandchildren. I would also enjoy a part time job so I will be part of mainstream society.
The future looks promising.
Tuesday, January 12, 2016
January 12, 2016: head hunting
It's the beginning of the Spring semester at Rice. This means that I copy lots of books and make pdf's of them for the faculty's classes. Last week I copied a few dozen chapters for Cymene. It's a boring part of my job. Sometimes I take a break at the copier and read some of the pages.
I read a chapter on the customs of a remote tribe in the Philippines. The anthropologist questioned one of the tribal elders about head hunting. The man said that when you are grieving, you hunt heads. Of course! If a family member dies, you hunt someone down and chop off their head. You toss the head into the jungle. Poof, your grief has been dealt with! He couldn't explain it. It was so obvious to him. (See bottom of this post to read the excerpt from the book, Culture and Truth by Renato Rosaldo.)
When Marcos was making reforms in the Philippines he made it illegal to head hunt. The tribe was at a loss to deal with the anger they felt when they were grieving. They joined some missionary church to appease this grief. Their purpose for joining was not to pray for the future safety of their loved ones. They took the "life after death" premise with the promise of heavenly rewards as a means to ease their grief and the anger that accompanies a loss.
Just think - when Jim had his accident, I could have just hunted down somebody and chopped off his head. The grief would have been gone. I can't even imagine killing someone. Plus, I am unable to fool myself into believing religious propaganda. I wish I could. Life would be so much easier.
A few months later, after Jim stabbed me in the back by proposing to a woman while married to me, I would have needed to chop off another head. It felt to me as if he had died twice.
Instead I grieved. I went to a psychologist for talk therapy and took antidepressants.
It's becoming more obvious to me why Jim acted as he did. I guess I'm lucky that he wasn't able to chop off my head after he returned home from his months in the hospital. He found another way to deal with his grief - find a scapegoat (me) and decide to "fall" in love with someone else. It worked for him.
After his first post-accident love, Claudia, left him, he fell into love with a series of strippers. After they left him, he found his old girlfriend through facebook, proposed and quickly married her. An emotionally immature solution, to be sure, but it seems to be working for him. His new wife appears to be happy, too.
I wished my grief could have ended so easily. I don't feel angry at him. He actually did me a favor. I have a good life now - I worked at it. I'm sure if I had to keep lifting him and his heavy wheelchair, my back would be in worse shape. I have arthritis of the spine as a result of the loss of my left knee at an early age (and from growing older). Plus, I don't have to go through my retirement funds by supporting him any more.
Life has gone on. Sometimes I can't believe what happened to me in the past five years. I used to wish for the good old days before November 2010.
I learned the hard way that marriage is not security against facing old age alone.
Now I am happy being unmarried. It's a good feeling to be independent and in charge of my own life. I wanted to go to Germany so I went. I went on a cruise. No need to get a husband to agree with me. I wanted a small white poodle and I went out and got my little dog, Sweetsie. I decorate my house however I want. Right now it's with pink poodles and dolls. My computer and desk are in the family room where I can also see the TV. I keep sewing tools and some fabric near my recliner-with no one to criticize me.
I have a great companion to share life with. I met my sweet Bert by contacting him through an online dating site. We go to dinner together, attend plays, movies, etc. We enjoy each other's company.
It's a good life.
An excerpt from the book, Culture and Truth by Rosaldo Renato:
Introduction: Grief and a Head hunter's Rage (p1-2)
If you ask an older Ilongot man of northern Luzon, Philippines, why he cuts off human heads, his answer is brief , and one on which no anthropologist can readily elaborate: He says that rage, born of grief, impels him to kill his fellow human beings. He claims that he needs a place "to carry his anger." The act of severing and tossing away the victim's head enables him, he says, to vent and, he hopes, throw away the anger of his bereavement. Although the anthropologist' s job is to make other cultures intelligible, more questions fail to reveal any further explanation of this man's pithy statement. To him, grief, rage, and headhunting go together in a self-evident manner. Either you understand or you don't.
from p 4:
The force of the dilemma faced by the Ilongots eluded me at the time. Even when I correctly recorded their statements about grieving and the need to throw away their anger, I simply did not grasp the weight of their words. In 1974, for example, while Michelle Rosaldo and I were living among the Ilongots, a six-month-old baby died, probably of pneumonia. That afternoon we visited the father and found him terribly stricken. "He was sobbing and staring through glazed and bloodshot eyes at the cotton blanket covering his baby."' The man suffered intensely, for this was the seventh child he had lost.
I read a chapter on the customs of a remote tribe in the Philippines. The anthropologist questioned one of the tribal elders about head hunting. The man said that when you are grieving, you hunt heads. Of course! If a family member dies, you hunt someone down and chop off their head. You toss the head into the jungle. Poof, your grief has been dealt with! He couldn't explain it. It was so obvious to him. (See bottom of this post to read the excerpt from the book, Culture and Truth by Renato Rosaldo.)
When Marcos was making reforms in the Philippines he made it illegal to head hunt. The tribe was at a loss to deal with the anger they felt when they were grieving. They joined some missionary church to appease this grief. Their purpose for joining was not to pray for the future safety of their loved ones. They took the "life after death" premise with the promise of heavenly rewards as a means to ease their grief and the anger that accompanies a loss.
Just think - when Jim had his accident, I could have just hunted down somebody and chopped off his head. The grief would have been gone. I can't even imagine killing someone. Plus, I am unable to fool myself into believing religious propaganda. I wish I could. Life would be so much easier.
A few months later, after Jim stabbed me in the back by proposing to a woman while married to me, I would have needed to chop off another head. It felt to me as if he had died twice.
Instead I grieved. I went to a psychologist for talk therapy and took antidepressants.
It's becoming more obvious to me why Jim acted as he did. I guess I'm lucky that he wasn't able to chop off my head after he returned home from his months in the hospital. He found another way to deal with his grief - find a scapegoat (me) and decide to "fall" in love with someone else. It worked for him.
After his first post-accident love, Claudia, left him, he fell into love with a series of strippers. After they left him, he found his old girlfriend through facebook, proposed and quickly married her. An emotionally immature solution, to be sure, but it seems to be working for him. His new wife appears to be happy, too.
I wished my grief could have ended so easily. I don't feel angry at him. He actually did me a favor. I have a good life now - I worked at it. I'm sure if I had to keep lifting him and his heavy wheelchair, my back would be in worse shape. I have arthritis of the spine as a result of the loss of my left knee at an early age (and from growing older). Plus, I don't have to go through my retirement funds by supporting him any more.
Life has gone on. Sometimes I can't believe what happened to me in the past five years. I used to wish for the good old days before November 2010.
I learned the hard way that marriage is not security against facing old age alone.
Now I am happy being unmarried. It's a good feeling to be independent and in charge of my own life. I wanted to go to Germany so I went. I went on a cruise. No need to get a husband to agree with me. I wanted a small white poodle and I went out and got my little dog, Sweetsie. I decorate my house however I want. Right now it's with pink poodles and dolls. My computer and desk are in the family room where I can also see the TV. I keep sewing tools and some fabric near my recliner-with no one to criticize me.
I have a great companion to share life with. I met my sweet Bert by contacting him through an online dating site. We go to dinner together, attend plays, movies, etc. We enjoy each other's company.
It's a good life.
An excerpt from the book, Culture and Truth by Rosaldo Renato:
Introduction: Grief and a Head hunter's Rage (p1-2)
If you ask an older Ilongot man of northern Luzon, Philippines, why he cuts off human heads, his answer is brief , and one on which no anthropologist can readily elaborate: He says that rage, born of grief, impels him to kill his fellow human beings. He claims that he needs a place "to carry his anger." The act of severing and tossing away the victim's head enables him, he says, to vent and, he hopes, throw away the anger of his bereavement. Although the anthropologist' s job is to make other cultures intelligible, more questions fail to reveal any further explanation of this man's pithy statement. To him, grief, rage, and headhunting go together in a self-evident manner. Either you understand or you don't.
from p 4:
The force of the dilemma faced by the Ilongots eluded me at the time. Even when I correctly recorded their statements about grieving and the need to throw away their anger, I simply did not grasp the weight of their words. In 1974, for example, while Michelle Rosaldo and I were living among the Ilongots, a six-month-old baby died, probably of pneumonia. That afternoon we visited the father and found him terribly stricken. "He was sobbing and staring through glazed and bloodshot eyes at the cotton blanket covering his baby."' The man suffered intensely, for this was the seventh child he had lost.
Just a few years before, three of his children had died , one after the other, in a matter of days. At the time, the situation was murky as people present talked both about evangelical Christianity (the possible renunciation of taking
heads) and their
grudges against lowlanders
(the contemplation of headhunting forays into the surrounding valleys).
Through subsequent days and weeks, the man's
grief moved him in a way I had not anticipated. Shortly after the baby's death,
the father converted to evangelical Christianity. Altogether too quick on the inference,
I immediately concluded that the man believed
that the new religion could somehow prevent
further deaths in his family.
When I spoke my mind to an Ilongot friend, he snapped at me, saying
that "I had missed the point: what the man in fact sought in the new religion
was not the denial of our inevitable deaths but a means of coping
with his grief.
With the advent of martial
law, headhunting was out of the question
as a means of vent ing his wrath and thereby lessening his grief. Were he to remain in his Ilongot way of life,
the pain of his sorrow
would simply be too much to
bear."'
Saturday, September 26, 2015
September 26, 2015: getting rid of some of the past
When I was dating the shithead, previously known as Jim, we would shop a lot together. I was enjoying the freedom of being single and having the ability to buy whatever I wanted. There was a Warner Brothers Store in the Galleria. We'd go there and I'd buy more Catwoman stuff for my collection. The store also carried Pepe LePew.
It seemed to suit Jim and me perfectly. He was Pepe and I was Penelope. So, that started my Pepe collection. We even had a Pepe and Penelope wedding cake topper and champagne flutes.
But then came Jim's accident and all the traumas that went with it. I lost him a second time when he came home from the hospital and started hating me. I feel like my heart is so scarred from these events.
I've been working hard at cutting away at the scar tissue. Today I was able to get rid of some more. I sold almost my entire Pepe and Penelope collection this morning. I met a man who collected and sold memorabilia. We agreed on $60.00 for the whole lot. I threw in about 15 teapots as well.
Tonight I'll take Bert out to dinner with the money from the sale.
I've been having what I call "waves of sadness" for the past couple days. After the divorce I packed the Pepe stuff into boxes and stored them in the laundry room. I guess dragging it all out again brought up memories.
I wish there was a magic pill to erase the tragedies from my mind. I would have to erase the good memories, too. Jim and I had a wonderful 10 or so years together. But those good memories bring up the horrible ones along with them.
I keep on working at my new life. Eventually, the memories will fade away. I don't even feel the pain anymore from the dissolution of my first marriage and that lasted for 23 years!
This, too, will pass.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
March 10, 2015
I used to wonder over and over why my ex-husband betrayed me so horribly. He had some serious problems before we met. My therapist said that Jim lost his way again after his accident. That I had been his moral compass.
A friend of mine who is a psychologist finally gave me a theory that made some sense to me. I had told him how happy Jim had seemed in the hospital and the nursing home. In the hospital and nursing home he received lots of attention - from nurses, doctors, physical and occupational therapists, plus he interacted with the other patients. And I was there with him many hours each day also.
Once he returned home he was faced with the reality of his situation. I continued to go to work, care for the house, do the shopping, etc. as before. He was at home except when he went to rehab. Even my mother was doing more than he could- walking around with her walker, reading.
I was saddened by the change in our lives but I was getting help with a therapist. Jim used to tell me that our problems were my depression. He was just fine, mentally, according to him.
My friend said Jim was exhibiting depression as he came to terms with his new lifestyle. He needed help with every little thing. His depression led him to find someone to blame (me) and turn to the new people in his life - his daytime caretakers, especially the young Mexican girl, Claudia. She was happily taking care of him while she was getting paid. I found out that she used to be a stripper and a hooker. I don't know whether she told Jim about her past or not. Somehow she tuned in to Jim's past sex addiction problems. She manipulated him and he was a very willing victim. Eventually he gave her an engagement ring and thousands of dollars.
People that I meet now and hear some of my story seem to assume that our marriage had been unhappy before the accident. That isn't true. We both were very happy. As the paramedics carried Jim out on a stretcher in November 2010, he told me that the last ten years had been the happiest years of his life. He was afraid he would die before I got to the hospital to be with him.
Now my years of being with Jim seem kind of surreal. I run across a picture of us together. We were smiling and doing things together. I can remember the time when the photo was taken but it seems like it was during a whole different lifetime.
This has been a giant leap forward for me. The pain is getting much less. Of course, the passage of time has been a great help. But, my friend's advice gave me the biggest boost. It makes sense with what happened.
The events were unimaginable and horrific. They made me fully aware of my powerlessness. I can make some life choices according to what happens to and around me. I do not consider myself so self important to think that the things that happen to me happen for a reason. The world has and will continue to go on without me in it.
A friend of mine who is a psychologist finally gave me a theory that made some sense to me. I had told him how happy Jim had seemed in the hospital and the nursing home. In the hospital and nursing home he received lots of attention - from nurses, doctors, physical and occupational therapists, plus he interacted with the other patients. And I was there with him many hours each day also.
Once he returned home he was faced with the reality of his situation. I continued to go to work, care for the house, do the shopping, etc. as before. He was at home except when he went to rehab. Even my mother was doing more than he could- walking around with her walker, reading.
I was saddened by the change in our lives but I was getting help with a therapist. Jim used to tell me that our problems were my depression. He was just fine, mentally, according to him.
My friend said Jim was exhibiting depression as he came to terms with his new lifestyle. He needed help with every little thing. His depression led him to find someone to blame (me) and turn to the new people in his life - his daytime caretakers, especially the young Mexican girl, Claudia. She was happily taking care of him while she was getting paid. I found out that she used to be a stripper and a hooker. I don't know whether she told Jim about her past or not. Somehow she tuned in to Jim's past sex addiction problems. She manipulated him and he was a very willing victim. Eventually he gave her an engagement ring and thousands of dollars.
People that I meet now and hear some of my story seem to assume that our marriage had been unhappy before the accident. That isn't true. We both were very happy. As the paramedics carried Jim out on a stretcher in November 2010, he told me that the last ten years had been the happiest years of his life. He was afraid he would die before I got to the hospital to be with him.
Now my years of being with Jim seem kind of surreal. I run across a picture of us together. We were smiling and doing things together. I can remember the time when the photo was taken but it seems like it was during a whole different lifetime.
This has been a giant leap forward for me. The pain is getting much less. Of course, the passage of time has been a great help. But, my friend's advice gave me the biggest boost. It makes sense with what happened.
The events were unimaginable and horrific. They made me fully aware of my powerlessness. I can make some life choices according to what happens to and around me. I do not consider myself so self important to think that the things that happen to me happen for a reason. The world has and will continue to go on without me in it.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
February 12, 2015: D-Day x 2
Two years ago today my divorce became final. Life is good.
The pain from my ex' betrayal is still with me but it's easing. It really sucked to lose my husband twice. First, he fell and became quadriplegic. Then he "fell in love" with Claudia, his young caregiver. Even after he broke up with her and I forgave him, he announced "I don't love you. I don't even like you and I'm not sorry for what I did" at a marriage counseling session. That was our final counseling session. The next day I met with my divorce attorney.
I remember the date, 2/12/2013 because it was exactly 60 days, the shortest legal time, after I filed for divorce. I filed on 12/12/2012. It's funny. Jim thought that 12/12/12 was a special day because of the number repetition. He thought everybody should do something memorable on that day. I filed on 12/12/12 because it was the earliest possible date after our final counseling session.
I don't remember when the divorce from my first marriage was final. That was a very painful time, too. Now I rarely even think of those years. I have high hopes that 2011 and 2012 will fade away, too.
Being so severely hurt twice is enough. I don't want to get married again. Ex#2 used to talk about how we would grow old together. Obviously, marriage does not give you that guarantee.
The pain from my ex' betrayal is still with me but it's easing. It really sucked to lose my husband twice. First, he fell and became quadriplegic. Then he "fell in love" with Claudia, his young caregiver. Even after he broke up with her and I forgave him, he announced "I don't love you. I don't even like you and I'm not sorry for what I did" at a marriage counseling session. That was our final counseling session. The next day I met with my divorce attorney.
I remember the date, 2/12/2013 because it was exactly 60 days, the shortest legal time, after I filed for divorce. I filed on 12/12/2012. It's funny. Jim thought that 12/12/12 was a special day because of the number repetition. He thought everybody should do something memorable on that day. I filed on 12/12/12 because it was the earliest possible date after our final counseling session.
I don't remember when the divorce from my first marriage was final. That was a very painful time, too. Now I rarely even think of those years. I have high hopes that 2011 and 2012 will fade away, too.
Being so severely hurt twice is enough. I don't want to get married again. Ex#2 used to talk about how we would grow old together. Obviously, marriage does not give you that guarantee.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
June 21, 2014
I put together a website with some of my Mom's photos. If you're interested, check it out at https://evelyncalabria.shutterfly.com/. There is a way for all members of the site to add their own photos and memories.
I am doing much better emotionally. After all I had been mourning the loss of my mother since the dementia took her away a few years ago. We had many happy years before that.
It is amazing to me that words have so much power. In my last post I wrote that I was a widow. Just writing "widow" lifted some weight off my heart. I had to look at lots of photos to make Mom's website. Many of them included Jim, my departed husband.
Now I can look at his photos and remember some happy moments in my life. I don't get those daggers of regret: "how could this have happened?" and "how could he have done this to me?" I don't want to forget the years between 1998 and 2010 when I was happily partnered with him. Before it was so painful. Those years are only memories now, not heartaches.
The "man" existing now, Jim Carpenter, is just a shadow of the man I had been married to. Just a shade, a ghost. Like any ghost I hope not to encounter it ever again.
I am doing much better emotionally. After all I had been mourning the loss of my mother since the dementia took her away a few years ago. We had many happy years before that.
It is amazing to me that words have so much power. In my last post I wrote that I was a widow. Just writing "widow" lifted some weight off my heart. I had to look at lots of photos to make Mom's website. Many of them included Jim, my departed husband.
Now I can look at his photos and remember some happy moments in my life. I don't get those daggers of regret: "how could this have happened?" and "how could he have done this to me?" I don't want to forget the years between 1998 and 2010 when I was happily partnered with him. Before it was so painful. Those years are only memories now, not heartaches.
The "man" existing now, Jim Carpenter, is just a shadow of the man I had been married to. Just a shade, a ghost. Like any ghost I hope not to encounter it ever again.
Friday, January 17, 2014
January 17, 2014
I'm happy to say that I survived the holidays very well. But, I am also so happy that they are over. There are just too too many memories associated with holidays. It made it difficult for me to focus on the present.
I am pretty content with my current life. It's been over a year now that I have had the house to myself.
I've spread out through the entire house. At first, I wanted to keep a guest room set aside and ready for visitors. I still have the bed in the room but today I am moving all my patterns and books down to that room. This frees up a lot of storage space in my sewing room. I moved most of the clothing that I've made onto a rolling rack that I placed in that room. I hadn't realized how much I've made until I put it all in one spot.
I put one of the cats' litter boxes in the bathtub in the second, rarely used bathroom. It's now their favorite spot. I wish the cats would not get so enthusiastic with scratching the litter. Then I wouldn't have to sweep it up so often.
Home maintenance is a necessary nuisance, though. Maybe someday someone will pay big bucks for my property. Then I can move back to a townhouse. I sold my townhome in Bellaire for this house. Originally, my son, ex-husband, my mother and I lived here together. A big house was useful back then.
In the meantime, I am putting the house to good use.
Right now I am looking at all my pink poodles that I gathered in one corner of the family room. It makes me smile just to look at them. My real live pink poodle, Sweetsie is sleeping next to me on the sofa.
My home is a happy place to be!
I am pretty content with my current life. It's been over a year now that I have had the house to myself.
I've spread out through the entire house. At first, I wanted to keep a guest room set aside and ready for visitors. I still have the bed in the room but today I am moving all my patterns and books down to that room. This frees up a lot of storage space in my sewing room. I moved most of the clothing that I've made onto a rolling rack that I placed in that room. I hadn't realized how much I've made until I put it all in one spot.
I put one of the cats' litter boxes in the bathtub in the second, rarely used bathroom. It's now their favorite spot. I wish the cats would not get so enthusiastic with scratching the litter. Then I wouldn't have to sweep it up so often.
Home maintenance is a necessary nuisance, though. Maybe someday someone will pay big bucks for my property. Then I can move back to a townhouse. I sold my townhome in Bellaire for this house. Originally, my son, ex-husband, my mother and I lived here together. A big house was useful back then.
In the meantime, I am putting the house to good use.
Right now I am looking at all my pink poodles that I gathered in one corner of the family room. It makes me smile just to look at them. My real live pink poodle, Sweetsie is sleeping next to me on the sofa.
My home is a happy place to be!
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
September 3, 2013: Match.com
Today I cancelled my Match.com account. Every day Match would email me with 24 "matches."
These men rarely were compatible with what I was looking for. I would go through their profiles. It was disheartening to read profiles that only jived with my search criteria in terms of being "male."
I didn't match what they wanted either.
90% of the "matches" I received were for men looking for "slender" or "athletic and toned" women. I am neither of those. More than half of these men were far from being slender or athletic and toned themselves. (Oh, to be a man and have such a wonderful body image of myself!)
I also listed myself as "spiritual but not religious." I'd get profiles of men stating how they were looking for the woman "god meant " for them to meet and men whose only reading material was the bible.
I'm a liberal and I'd get profiles of men who listed themselves as ultra-conservative. (I don't understand how someone "religious" can reconcile himself with being "ultra-conservative." But, that would entail an entirely different post.)
There are other dating websites that are far superior to Match.com and some of them are free. One site doesn't allow anyone more than 13 years younger or older contact you. I love this site! Another free site gives you the opportunity to answer a variety of questions. When you open up a man's profile there is a tab "y'all have issues." Click on that tab and you can compare your answers to theirs. What a great website!
I've given out my card to some of the men I've met. I am not going to name these sites just in case one them were to check my blog. Let them do their own web research.
These men rarely were compatible with what I was looking for. I would go through their profiles. It was disheartening to read profiles that only jived with my search criteria in terms of being "male."
I didn't match what they wanted either.
90% of the "matches" I received were for men looking for "slender" or "athletic and toned" women. I am neither of those. More than half of these men were far from being slender or athletic and toned themselves. (Oh, to be a man and have such a wonderful body image of myself!)
I also listed myself as "spiritual but not religious." I'd get profiles of men stating how they were looking for the woman "god meant " for them to meet and men whose only reading material was the bible.
I'm a liberal and I'd get profiles of men who listed themselves as ultra-conservative. (I don't understand how someone "religious" can reconcile himself with being "ultra-conservative." But, that would entail an entirely different post.)
There are other dating websites that are far superior to Match.com and some of them are free. One site doesn't allow anyone more than 13 years younger or older contact you. I love this site! Another free site gives you the opportunity to answer a variety of questions. When you open up a man's profile there is a tab "y'all have issues." Click on that tab and you can compare your answers to theirs. What a great website!
I've given out my card to some of the men I've met. I am not going to name these sites just in case one them were to check my blog. Let them do their own web research.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
August 20, 2013: Dating
I haven't blogged about my dating experiences. My friends know all about them.
It's funny when I'm married, I am totally faithful. My first husband moved out of my bedroom 2 years before I had even filed for divorce. It was a painful time and I needed my friends' support. I never even looked at other men.
After the divorce was final I got "boy crazy." My friend Susin was relieved when I met my second husband so I would quit talking about men.
My second husband got injured and became quadriplegic on 11/21/2010. In 2012 he wanted to end our marriage to marry his young caregiver. Our divorce was final on 02/12/2013. So I had another 2 years without a man in my bed. Again I remained completely faithful.
I joined my first dating site the day my divorce was final. I figured I had already mourned the loss of my relationship with my husband - first, after his injury and then again after his betrayal.
So, here I am "boy crazy" again. You'd think I would be too old for this.
I'm not going to blog about my dating. I have actually done quite well on the dating websites, even though the younger women try to date the older men. The dates I have had are with men mature enough to know that the younger women are not looking for their companionship. Those women are after their money.
I do consider my life as pretty much an open book. But, my dating experiences are private. Besides, I know my ex-husband reads my blog and he can go get his own thrills. He is no longer my problem and I wish him no harm.
Also, I have given out my blog address to a couple of the men I have met so they can know more about me. I respect their privacy. I keep an unpublished journal for my new experiences.
It's funny when I'm married, I am totally faithful. My first husband moved out of my bedroom 2 years before I had even filed for divorce. It was a painful time and I needed my friends' support. I never even looked at other men.
After the divorce was final I got "boy crazy." My friend Susin was relieved when I met my second husband so I would quit talking about men.
My second husband got injured and became quadriplegic on 11/21/2010. In 2012 he wanted to end our marriage to marry his young caregiver. Our divorce was final on 02/12/2013. So I had another 2 years without a man in my bed. Again I remained completely faithful.
I joined my first dating site the day my divorce was final. I figured I had already mourned the loss of my relationship with my husband - first, after his injury and then again after his betrayal.
So, here I am "boy crazy" again. You'd think I would be too old for this.
I'm not going to blog about my dating. I have actually done quite well on the dating websites, even though the younger women try to date the older men. The dates I have had are with men mature enough to know that the younger women are not looking for their companionship. Those women are after their money.
I do consider my life as pretty much an open book. But, my dating experiences are private. Besides, I know my ex-husband reads my blog and he can go get his own thrills. He is no longer my problem and I wish him no harm.
Also, I have given out my blog address to a couple of the men I have met so they can know more about me. I respect their privacy. I keep an unpublished journal for my new experiences.
Monday, August 12, 2013
2013-08-12: Why bother?
I'm back in the dating world again. It just takes work, willingness to take rejection, trial and error. But, am I wasting my time?
I have been married twice. In the first one I was unhappy most of the time for 23 years. But, I married "for life." It's just that my spouse didn't see it that way. He wanted to stay married until something better came along.
Then I married a second time. I was happy for the first 10 years. My spouse had a terrible accident. I stayed by his side and gave him as much support and encouragement as I could. His accident sent him on a downward mental spiral. I stuck with him even after heartbreak and betrayal. It was futile. More years wasted.
Of course considering my time wasted presupposes that my life is supposed to serve some sort of purpose. That is not me being negative, just objective.
I think a person should try and be as happy as possible during her lifetime. So, in that respect, I have had a lot of failure. I have had success also - 2 wonderful sons and a sweet grandson that I love spending time with, good friends, a job that I enjoy, meaningful hobbies, etc.
But, my alone time can be difficult. I don't like living without a partner. But, did I ever really have one at all? Is it worth trying again?
I have had friends tell me to just get a dog. A dog can be a wonderful companion. Maybe I'll get one soon. But, a dog is a dependent, not a partner. I guess I'll keep looking. If I don't find love, maybe I can at least have fun trying.
I have been married twice. In the first one I was unhappy most of the time for 23 years. But, I married "for life." It's just that my spouse didn't see it that way. He wanted to stay married until something better came along.
Then I married a second time. I was happy for the first 10 years. My spouse had a terrible accident. I stayed by his side and gave him as much support and encouragement as I could. His accident sent him on a downward mental spiral. I stuck with him even after heartbreak and betrayal. It was futile. More years wasted.
Of course considering my time wasted presupposes that my life is supposed to serve some sort of purpose. That is not me being negative, just objective.
I think a person should try and be as happy as possible during her lifetime. So, in that respect, I have had a lot of failure. I have had success also - 2 wonderful sons and a sweet grandson that I love spending time with, good friends, a job that I enjoy, meaningful hobbies, etc.
But, my alone time can be difficult. I don't like living without a partner. But, did I ever really have one at all? Is it worth trying again?
I have had friends tell me to just get a dog. A dog can be a wonderful companion. Maybe I'll get one soon. But, a dog is a dependent, not a partner. I guess I'll keep looking. If I don't find love, maybe I can at least have fun trying.
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