Anchors Away

I had an old friend of Mike’s stop by the house last week.  He was looking for Mike.  I had to break the news to him that he was about 2 years late.  He lives about 20 miles away, not far, but we had lost touch over the years, and I didn’t know where he lived.  He was one of those Navy friends that come and go in and out of our lives.  Their friendship began in the mid 1980’s.  They were young, mid-twenties invincible, and could party like there was no tomorrow.  I am guessing about 30 years have passed since they first met.

He had this sort of blank look on his face.  He had no idea that when he knocked on my door that the person he most wanted to see that very minute was no longer living.  He gave me a warm, caring hug and asked how it happened.  He listened and nodded his head, told me about his family members who passed away in the past years too, but never compared his grief with mine.  He said something that has brought back so many of my regrets.  He knew Mike was a very military minded person, even though had been retired for years, would still have a military hair-cut and be as fit as a Master Chief in the Navy could be. So he said with a lot of regret in his face and voice.  “I wanted to come here a few years back, missed Mike a lot didn’t come because I thought I was too overweight.” 

I just gave him a half-hearted smile and looked down at my own overweight body and said, “That’s too bad I don’t think Mike would have cared. “ I can imagine he drove home and thought about all the things he would have shared with Mike that day.  All the regrets he now has because of one single decision.  I can’t say that if Mike had this friend in his life before he died would have made a difference. It has however kept me up for the past few nights, well mostly woke me up after a few hours of sleep because I can’t get that comment out of my mind.

I too was one to put things off because of my weight.  Because I didn’t feel like I would or could fit in with the people I knew before or even new people for that matter.  Mike and I traveled a lot after he retired from the Navy.  We were only in our late 40’s when he retired, young enough to have fun and enjoy the sites.  Well menopause was my enemy when I got closer to my 50’s and man did my body want to abuse me in any way it could.  So needless to say, I did opt out on several occasions when Mike wanted to jaunt off to Jamaica or Mexico or even down to Miami for a long weekend in the sun.  Do I regret it now, you betcha.  More than anything in the world, I would love to go back in time and go with Mike where ever he wanted to go. 

I know I can’t change the past, but I sure as heck can change the future.  I will take some trips to places that I want to see.  I don’t think I will be able to revisit the places Mike and I went for a while longer, but there are plenty of other places in this great big world I can go.  I will have my bag of regrets forever, they are not as heavy as they use to be.  I am slowly learning that everyone has their own personal bag of regrets and what ifs. It is how I will display, decorate, and carry that bag that makes all the difference in this new life. 

In Time by Grief Barbie

Taking time for me
Is hard to believe

Try to make what I can't see
I still need to grieve

Take the space and make it mine
Changing it forever
But remembering all the time
You are my only lover

Don't rush the process
I'll be here for a while
I know there is success
It will be my own style

Happy St. Partick's Day

Widow Thought of the Day:

 Me milk be green this morning
 Me bread at me lunch be too
 Me beer may be green this evening
 But that’s where the green is through
 For me husband nay be with me
 The man tis gone to heaven above
 Though green be the color I’m wearing
 Tis blue I be feeling for me love

My Feelings

Today I felt your love and cried
It is hard to be here most days
The blue sky reminds me of your eyes

We are not us anymore
Please give me time to learn
The sun shines on me more than ever

Will we be together in the end
You are always by my side
Rain is my only friend

Careful What Makes You Happy

This morning I had the opportunity to put the top down on my mustang convertible after class and drive over to the nearest shopping center to do a little window shopping and maybe purchase a few items for spring.  I have been hold-up in my house for the past couple months doing on-line classes and trying to make some sense of my house.  I’ve moved the furniture around in my bedroom three times and once in my family room.
Well anyway I am getting off topic.  I love to drive my mustang with the top down.  It gives me a sense of freedom and youth.  At age 55 anything that makes me feel younger is a gift.  The wind was blowing in my hair and the sun was shining on my face, classic rock was playing on the radio and I suddenly have this overwhelming feeling that I am the luckiest woman in the world.  It was the same feeling had I had about 10 years ago when Mike bought me my first mustang and on these early spring days I had the opportunity to drive with the top down.
I would think to myself, “How did I get here?”  I am a product of divorce in the 1960’s.  My mom had four daughters under the age of 10, and my father left her for another woman and never looked back.  We lived in the projects in a small blue collar town in northwestern Pennsylvania.  I was raised on welfare cheese, and Toys for Tots.  Most of my relatives and their friends were sure the four girls were going to amount to nothing, just a strain on the welfare system.  My father’s mother, thought my mother should have just put us all in the local orphanage, (notice how I didn’t call her my grandmother) I never cared for that woman.  If I had stayed in that small town there is a good chance I might have ended up as they predicted.
So today when I had that feeling of being that lucky woman, it scared the hell out of me.  I let myself feel lucky and count my blessing many times in that car before Mike passed and what good did it do me? It feels like fate or karma, whatever you want to call it, slapped me in the face and told me to not think that way.  Then all I could do was say to myself, “I’m sorry for feeling this way, please don’t take anyone or anything else away from me.”
I know a lot of people will tell me that being alive, having a roof over my head, having friends and family that love me are all things I am lucky for, and I won’t argue with you. I had someone tell me once that I had to pay my dues to get and keep the blessings I deserved.  Worse part is this so called spiritual person did not know me from Adam and had no idea what and if I have already paid any so called “dues”.
Now when I think, “How did I get here?” It is more a reference to why am I a widow?  Why did he have to die, and how come it hurts so much even when I am happy?