I’m now the same age my former AF Flight Engineer turned Instructor in his forties, retired, was when he passed. He always said he had the benefit of being nine years my senior, that was his wild card
So I’ve caught up to the age he was when he passed, and very much the same person that prayed a little prayer that the Lord would return him safely to me whenever he moved out of my sight.
That serious man that surely thought seeing Airplane was the greatest jumping off point to teasing ever created “Don’t call me Shirley.” and “surely” was my favorite word.
We shared a belief we were here for a purpose of the Lord, and would be called home when our purpose was fulfilled; I still believe that, still believe he will come to take my hand as I go.
I sometimes wake feeling as if he’s been holding my hand while I slept as he always did; toss up if I close my eyes wishing the feeling to return, or pleading silently the tears don’t fall.
If better means not crying every day, fewer of my days and nights involve tears; in my heart and soul, every fiber of my being, I remember, him, the memories of us with all our flaws and special affinity for each other remain as if they were yesterday.
There is strength in memories, we don’t become the people we are alone, we didn’t always agree, but we talked about why we came to the same point from different directions, and we grew from the effort to understand each other.
He even learned that he couldn’t talk me out of my joy of walking in rain storms with wind and lightning, waiting with a towel for my return; men that fly don’t approve of such behavior.
I too, am not well enough to go out and protest, I tire more easily, my spirit is willing, my body isn’t what it used to be, sometimes it’s wobbly without notice or intention; he’s not here to open jars with stubborn lids for me, so now I have a canning wrench I secretly call Larry.
My past nine years, grief has no expiration date, but your memories can blunt the pain with Your shared history; he had a ridiculous little tongue twister he whispered in my ear when he thought I was concentrating on something too intensely, quietly snuck up unseen and whispered, exasperating, now I laugh when I think of it. You will find your way too, blessings. Christine
It is truly ok to be kind to yourself and your inertia while you grieve for your Marine. Your pain is in body, mind, and spirit. Blessings to as you take care of your self. Blessings to the protesters that do it for our country.
So sorry, LBB, I included you in who I was marching for without advising you of that fact. I marched for others I know, as well, who couldn't join for various reasons. It's not about any virtue I may possess, honestly I was and remain on the fence about it. My mind now operates on a binary switch--obligated/absolutely I will participate, vs. I definitely feel afraid to do so. Our American rights have been extraordinarily eroded! Silly me, throughout my post-WW2 life with my patriotic parents in this country (the "Greatest Generation"), and being a card-carrying Baby Boomer idealist and practitioner, I thought we as our nation were improving. Becoming properly inclusive, properly more diversity tolerant--even celebratory, properly more fair and equal. Or at least willing to keep fighting for those ideals and better ways of being, on the shoulders of our fathers and mothers who quashed fascism. Accepting the unquantifiable shock and reality of spooling backwards as a society hasn't been a natural endeavor.
All that to say, we are all adjusting to what we can do, what is futile to attempt, what we dearly want to do, etc., in a context which confusingly snaps whiplash on us every day. I appreciate you writing so much, and bringing forth your honest heart so eloquently. Yours, LNBB
I had several friends marching for me, and thank you so much for including me in your day. As far as I can tell, the whole world was standing with us. Smashing--hope it leads to good or at least better days. Today my kids & grands & I scattered ashes at a pond where they took Brad to fish after his car accident. We got to watch an osprey swoop up a fish and then another one try to steal it. (Failed.) Our world was made for love, IMHO, and no amount of crummy old creaky tanks can win over it. Marching with you, dahlink. Much Love, LBB
Post polio syndrome sounds a lot like my frenemy Fibromyalgia. It likes to make my mind up for me too about what I’ll be doing each day—and that’s without the grief. Your Marine sounds amazing.
Julie, FM is awful. I'm sorry. My Marine was just a guy defending his country for all of us. Let's hope the next overseas war doesn't get us involved. Thanks for reading! Love, Linda
I agree & totally understand your thoughts. I signed up for a NO Kings event in redneck AZ ( ShowLow). However, my body has been rebelling this week. So, although I am better, I decided my family obligations SHOULD prevent me from participating until I again feel close to 100%. I'll be thinking of you while our friends with the heart (& body) are participating all over the country!
George,
You know it! These tens of thousands give me hope. One sign I saw locally said they were marching for all of us who can't be there. Best Wishes, Linda
I’m now the same age my former AF Flight Engineer turned Instructor in his forties, retired, was when he passed. He always said he had the benefit of being nine years my senior, that was his wild card
So I’ve caught up to the age he was when he passed, and very much the same person that prayed a little prayer that the Lord would return him safely to me whenever he moved out of my sight.
That serious man that surely thought seeing Airplane was the greatest jumping off point to teasing ever created “Don’t call me Shirley.” and “surely” was my favorite word.
We shared a belief we were here for a purpose of the Lord, and would be called home when our purpose was fulfilled; I still believe that, still believe he will come to take my hand as I go.
I sometimes wake feeling as if he’s been holding my hand while I slept as he always did; toss up if I close my eyes wishing the feeling to return, or pleading silently the tears don’t fall.
If better means not crying every day, fewer of my days and nights involve tears; in my heart and soul, every fiber of my being, I remember, him, the memories of us with all our flaws and special affinity for each other remain as if they were yesterday.
There is strength in memories, we don’t become the people we are alone, we didn’t always agree, but we talked about why we came to the same point from different directions, and we grew from the effort to understand each other.
He even learned that he couldn’t talk me out of my joy of walking in rain storms with wind and lightning, waiting with a towel for my return; men that fly don’t approve of such behavior.
I too, am not well enough to go out and protest, I tire more easily, my spirit is willing, my body isn’t what it used to be, sometimes it’s wobbly without notice or intention; he’s not here to open jars with stubborn lids for me, so now I have a canning wrench I secretly call Larry.
My past nine years, grief has no expiration date, but your memories can blunt the pain with Your shared history; he had a ridiculous little tongue twister he whispered in my ear when he thought I was concentrating on something too intensely, quietly snuck up unseen and whispered, exasperating, now I laugh when I think of it. You will find your way too, blessings. Christine
Christine,
Friends like you fill my "way" with gladness and camaraderie. Thank you for your story and your presence here. Best Wishes, Linda
It is truly ok to be kind to yourself and your inertia while you grieve for your Marine. Your pain is in body, mind, and spirit. Blessings to as you take care of your self. Blessings to the protesters that do it for our country.
Thank you, Nancy. I am so willing to be kind to everyone but me. Sheesh. Meanwhile thanks for your kindness. Best Wishes, Linda
So sorry, LBB, I included you in who I was marching for without advising you of that fact. I marched for others I know, as well, who couldn't join for various reasons. It's not about any virtue I may possess, honestly I was and remain on the fence about it. My mind now operates on a binary switch--obligated/absolutely I will participate, vs. I definitely feel afraid to do so. Our American rights have been extraordinarily eroded! Silly me, throughout my post-WW2 life with my patriotic parents in this country (the "Greatest Generation"), and being a card-carrying Baby Boomer idealist and practitioner, I thought we as our nation were improving. Becoming properly inclusive, properly more diversity tolerant--even celebratory, properly more fair and equal. Or at least willing to keep fighting for those ideals and better ways of being, on the shoulders of our fathers and mothers who quashed fascism. Accepting the unquantifiable shock and reality of spooling backwards as a society hasn't been a natural endeavor.
All that to say, we are all adjusting to what we can do, what is futile to attempt, what we dearly want to do, etc., in a context which confusingly snaps whiplash on us every day. I appreciate you writing so much, and bringing forth your honest heart so eloquently. Yours, LNBB
LNBB,
I had several friends marching for me, and thank you so much for including me in your day. As far as I can tell, the whole world was standing with us. Smashing--hope it leads to good or at least better days. Today my kids & grands & I scattered ashes at a pond where they took Brad to fish after his car accident. We got to watch an osprey swoop up a fish and then another one try to steal it. (Failed.) Our world was made for love, IMHO, and no amount of crummy old creaky tanks can win over it. Marching with you, dahlink. Much Love, LBB
Post polio syndrome sounds a lot like my frenemy Fibromyalgia. It likes to make my mind up for me too about what I’ll be doing each day—and that’s without the grief. Your Marine sounds amazing.
Julie, FM is awful. I'm sorry. My Marine was just a guy defending his country for all of us. Let's hope the next overseas war doesn't get us involved. Thanks for reading! Love, Linda
Amen ! Amen !
I agree & totally understand your thoughts. I signed up for a NO Kings event in redneck AZ ( ShowLow). However, my body has been rebelling this week. So, although I am better, I decided my family obligations SHOULD prevent me from participating until I again feel close to 100%. I'll be thinking of you while our friends with the heart (& body) are participating all over the country!
Steve Poe
Thanks, Steve,
For the solidarity. How'd you end up in Showlow? I'm sure there's a story there. Get 100% better and don't obey in advance. Best Wishes, Linda