Happy Thanksgiving


Today is calm. Clouds, a dusting of white snow on the ground. Cold temperatures of 20 degrees. I have had my shower and am sitting here in my warm night-gown and fuzzy slippers. I am waiting for the phone call that will start my day.

The shower girl will be announcing what time she will be here. This fifteen to twenty minutes is almost as important to me in the mornings as talking to God is. Quietness, the sound of Rhino wanting petted and the fans running on the computer.

When that phone rings it will signal me to go get Al up. I will change his brief and assist him in a sitting up position. Then transferring him to his wheelchair and placing him in a good position at his bedside table, I will start his breakfast.

Once he has eaten, I will brush his teeth and shave him. The shower girl will arrive and do her thing, then it is getting Al ready to be bundled up to get on the bus. Already the memories of silence I heard just moments ago will fade into a puff of smoke.

I will then receive a call from the Hospice nurse telling me when she will be arriving at Al’s Day Program. I will armor myself with boots and gloves, warm up my cold car and with grocery list in hand I will once again be placed into the hustle and bustle of people in the grocery stores, all doing the same thing.

It is getting uncomfortable to be around the crowds. I think it is because I spend ninety percent of my time inside our home. After leaving the grocery store I am meeting a lady to pick up an item I purchased.

Driving home, getting the mail, carrying the groceries in and putting them a way, I will look at the clock and take notice of how much free time I have left. I will let out a sigh and grab one last cup of coffee before the glimmer of silence is gone until bedtime. You have to love Mondays. Although weekends are the same to me as most of the week days, I hear no doctors or have any meetings or big routines on the weekends. I kind of like that.

This will be a busy week for anyone celebrating Thanksgiving with families. I want to wish all of you that will be traveling a safe trip, yummy food, good conversation and a happy Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving-Turkey-Dinner

Wrinkles and Baggy Eyes


big+fireYesterday, slowly the day progressed from good to bad. By the time it came to rest, Al‘s tremors and internal furnace got worse. I sat in his room from 3:30 to 6am, covered in two blankets. A ceiling fan and box floor fan both on high and Al is yelling out ” I’m on fire! I’m on fire.”

The amount of medications I was giving him would let him just start to sleep and then we was wide awake again. From what I have learned there is no fix for his internal furnace and tremors.

I probably looked silly sitting there in my house coat, slippers and two blankets. The register is closed in Al’s room in order to keep it cool also.

This morning the Hospice nurse said it was his heart last night, throwing a fit from the tremors, causing something like women’s hot flashes.

He is a bit better today but not much. I am so darn tired. I just look outside as the world passes me by and tell the leaves I am so sorry to be ignoring them. Hopefully I can get my son to come down and at least mow them if nothing else.

Tomorrow I get out for four hours. A trip to the pharmacy for Al and to the grocery store. I sure hope this new gal relaxes and I can eventually get out of here or there will be no Thanksgiving Dinner or any Christmas gifts.

I learned last night my daughter won’t be here for Thanksgiving and maybe not for Christmas. Of course I am so disappointed, one because I love and miss her so much and two, she is the biggest help. She just picks up and kicks in and none of the other family members do this.

I think I will be glad when the holidays pass in some ways.

Improving Tuesday


Well, well, well, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday and today is improving Tuesday. Yes, Al is more aware and awake. He has eaten for me all day. He plans on going to Day Program tomorrow which means I can get some fresh air and go to the grocery store.

He is still very weak, he continues to have his treacherous tremors but his spirit is brighter. He has sat in his recliner two different times for short periods.

I am sighing a long breath of stale air where I had been hanging on to every breath I took wondering what was coming next.

It looks like we are on an up swing and I don’t care how long it last as long as he is content each moment. When the bad day comes again, I can look back at Improving Tuesday.

We do have a bigger problem though since he is definitely weaker. This is not a temporary thing. The new weakness is here to stay, partly due to the illness, and partly due to the increase of pain medications.

Come here, come real close, I want to ask you a gentle question. Do you have a weak stomach? If you do you may not want to read further, but if you can take it can I discuss the word POOP with you?

I have your permission? You can handle it? Alright then, here is the situation. Have you ever sat for minutes waiting, reading your magazines, smoking a cigarette, more waiting and nothing happens on the Big John?constipation-3

You read some more, you relax, you push until your eyes bug out and your face looks sunburned. Eventually you score, victory is yours. You smile, you won, another battle is over.

Well for Al those muscles that you and I use don’t work anymore. He takes all sorts of medicines to help but help doesn’t come.

Now that he is weaker those muscles are weaker also. He is also hard to stand for the Day Program people too because of  his weakness.

The terrible thing about M.S.A. is that his mind is in tact. He knows it is wrong to do the deed in his brief so he is fighting it. I have been speaking to him on and off all day about how it may be time for him to go in his brief because his body can’t make the trip to the toilet.

He cries and says he will stink. Of course I pipe  up and say absolutely not. You just say that you need to be changed right now and who ever is with you will run to the bathroom faster than you can say Monkey’s Uncle.

He didn’t think that was funny, but seriously friends, his body can’t get to the bathroom. It is a transfer from bed to wheelchair to toilet to a sitting down position. Then the physical work of making pudding pops, then standing back up transferring to his wheelchair and back into bed.

For a tired body and a weak heart that is a lot of work. Even today Al sitting in his recliner twice for short periods you would have thought he had just carried a bundle of firewood, he was breathing that heavy.

This is one battle that I and the nurses and Day Program have to win in order for Al not to  have another big heart attack.

Alright, that wasn’t too bad of talk was it? Are you sick to your stomach? Should I excuse you so you can leave?

On the bright side a friend of mine sent me the Teddy Bear today. It is the M.S.A. bear that I put on my blogs a lot. It is a sign of hope for a cure so people don’t have to suffer like Al does.M.S.A. logoM.S.A. coverM.S.A badge

A Very Long Day


11pm at night. Quietness at least for now. I feel so guilty that I have not been on here much the past couple of days, but Al has been so restless.

I have just changed him and rolled him over on his side. I pray that I won’t be up for a third night in a row. I am going to place an ad in the newspaper tomorrow morning. I just can’t do this anymore.

My neck is burning, I am sure it is muscles. I had some sort of spell today. I felt hot all over. I was actually sitting here at the computer and suddenly got hot and felt like I was going to pass out.

I knew I needed to get to the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. On the way there I leaned into the wall a little. I got light-headed. I had been to two doctors this week and my blood pressure was a little high. When I took it here at home it was the same as it was at the doctor.

I just can’t do this alone anymore. As long as he is confused and needs to be rolled so often in bed I need help. Please pray that someone responsible will answer my ad.

So far Al is saying he does not want to go to Day Program tomorrow. It is serious when he said this. I never in my life I thought I would hear those words.

The shower girl will be here tomorrow morning. According to how he is, he will either have a shower or a bed bath, and then I guess we shall know then whether he is going.

If Al is going to remain home I definitely have to have help. I need to get to the grocery store. No one delivers to homes in our area.

I have been working triple time to slow down my mind. I have stayed either with Al today or on the couch lying down. Al never slept all day but then at nine tonight he took a little nap.

I got a call from the Hospice Doctor this evening. I was surprised to receive this on a weekend. He was checking on Al and he definitely told me that the medicines he took Al off of will not shorten his life span, but neither are they doing him any good any longer.

He told me Al should not go to Day Program and I agree, but I am still leaving it up to Al and how he is feeling, but it seems Al is figuring it out all on his own. The doctor told me that each day Al will now become weaker and each time he is made to move around he will suffer more and more.

He stated a weird thing when I really think about it. He said, ” Each day Al is one day closer to dying.” I already knew this. I think doctors and nurses beat around the bush. They have ethics and politeness when sometimes I would rather hear the bold truth, but then again, why. It doesn’t matter. I try to make each day count.

When I roll him it is a huge struggle and I get stressed because I feel like I can’t do it. I know Al knows it is hard because he kept telling me he was sorry. Of course I would feel guilt that I verbalized my groans of pushing and moving and I would tell him it isn’t his fault, that I know if he could help he would for sure.

His tremors just this weekend have curled his toes up bad. He has a large looking hammer toe now from the curling. His arms won’t stay to the side of his body. They repeatedly make their way back to his stomach area.

No matter when I went in to check on him his hands were holding each other and he was beating himself in the stomach from the tremors. I have to wonder if I can get his shoes on him.

With all of the doses of pain medications  no one can seem to get the tremors to stop. I believe in my heart that the only one who can stop those tremors is God.

I don’t know the time but I am thankful that I have put up our Christmas Tree. I told Al I was going to put up white lights for him in his bedroom today but I never made it to that. Hopefully tomorrow.

I let the house go today. I fixed a meal. I cooked chicken legs and de-boned them. I cooked noodles in the broth and made instant mashed potatoes. I also made a pudding for Al. I took the seasonal pumpkin pie spice Jello pudding mix and added beaten cream cheese and a container of cool-whip, then enough milk to make it the consistency he needed.

He ate one doughnut yesterday. Today he ate about five bites of pudding two different times. He also ate about a fourth of cup of noodles. He didn’t eat much but he ate more than yesterday. I could hear his tummy growling but he is barely eating.

Well the day is over, hopefully. I am headed to bed to get some much-needed sleep. Keep us in your prayers for a helper to arrive. Hugs to all of you for your love, friendship and support. I couldn’t do it without the emails, phone calls, and comments.beautiful-christmas-scene-christmas-wallpaper.jpg

Being Waited On Hand & Foot


Christmas tree 2013I have been gone most of the day. Al went to Day Program and I had to go to the doctor because last week I was outside helping with leaves and it gave me the start of an infection.

I had a little trouble getting my prescription although I get this infection every fall and spring as long as I live in Indiana. The doctor didn’t want to fork over the script because I wasn’t bad enough yet.

I explained about Al and how I could not afford to be down one day and didn’t want to wait until it got bad. Finally he gave in. I had to go to the Pharmacy and pay my monthly bill and fill the new script. I then had to stop at the camera shop as I needed a piece I didn’t have. I then definitely had to go to the grocery store as I can’t get out on weekends when Al is home.

So by the time I got home and put all the groceries a way I had a half an hour before Al was to arrive. This day went fast but yet I had that time frame for thirty minutes to do as I wished.

I was so shocked and very pleased that two ladies from M.S.A. web site, who I am honored to call my friends. Connie and Bonnie had both left me messages on Facebook and Connie even called me. They were worried about me as I hadn’t posted all day.

I didn’t mean to worry them but to be very honest except for my daughter and my best friend no one questions my where-a-bouts or calls to see if I am alright; so I was pleased as punch.

After I spoke to Connie I played around with my camera. I took a photo of our tree and then doctored it on a photo program. So here it is, my play-time project.

When Al got off the bus he didn’t want supper. I am starting to get used to those words. He wanted to nap. I imagine he was tired. He didn’t seem like he had a good time at his party but I am thinking he was just too tired to talk about it.

I changed him and put him in bed. When he gets up I will offer him supper in bed, served like a King. I will not work so hard to transfer him from bed to recliner and back any longer. I hurt my neck and back muscles because he is just too weak to help.

I think he will be alright with it. He was in bed all day yesterday after breakfast. I got him up and fed him and washed him up and then put him back in his bed. I just made sure I turned him every two hours and sat him up off and on. He got waited on hand and foot. You know, I could handle that myself for a day, being waited on hand and foot.

Well, That’s What I Heard


Mother’s grabbed their children’s hands and hurried and crossed the street. Men in business suits tossed coins. Teens laughed and sneered. Some even threw rocks. Mr. P is what he was nicknamed.

I heard someone call him that when I went into the grocery store to purchase my month supply of groceries. The government was good to me. I got ninety dollars a month for food.  I lived in a room across the street from the store. My son owns the building. He went to a lot of trouble. He turned my one room into two. He took the closet and turned it into my own private toilet. He put in a used stool and a small sink. It had a lot of rust in it, but it was mine and I knew how to use a scrub brush. He don’t even charge me any rent.

Every morning I would get up and reheat the coffee left over from the night before. I get stamps for food but I do have to be careful. Every day I sit at the table my son gave me. It is pretty old, sort of wobbly. I only got one chair, but that’s alright, because it is only me.  I had to put some paper under one of the legs so I didn’t knock my coffee over.

I watched the old man walking down the street. He wasn’t a beggar mind you. He was just hungry. I never did see this man hold out his hand one time like I seen those  other lazy people doing. You know, those ones who could work but don’t feel like it.

No siree, Mr. P, this is what the store calls him, he goes looking for free food. Maybe he be lucky some days and the local restaurant will throw out some outdated bread or rolls. Old Mr. P will stand near by and wait patiently for something to eat.

My old ticker beats so fast when I see him wandering the streets. I just wanna help him so bad, but I can barely feed myself. One time I did get some cash for Christmas from my son. I took it to the store and bought a few extra things. I made up a Christmas plate and when I saw Mr. P go walking by, I raced outside and handed it to him. Yep, I just placed it in his hands. I didn’t give him a chance to say no. I just said, ” Merry Christmas Mr. P.”

You know that very next Valentine’s Day I found a card laying at my front door. Whoever slid it under the door didn’t sign it, but I always figured it was Mr. P’s way of saying thank-you. I still got that card. Nope, I won’t throw it a way. First Valentine Card I have had in years.

You know, I used to have life so much better. I was really quite a pretty thing, or so the guys in my station used to say. I was a nurse. I worked as a nurse in the Army, but one day I got a surprise letter in the mail. It pretty much stated I was getting too old. It said I had to retire, that I had done my duty.

I got a nice retirement out of it though and I really loved my job. Helping all those soldiers that got hurt. I made a lot of friends, I did. Yep, all over the world. I used to write a lot of letters but most of them are dead now.

My son handles my retirement money. He gives me this place to live. I guess I should be most thankful for the things he does for me, but I always thought getting old wouldn’t be like this.

Now old Mr. P, he is in the same boat as me practically. He served in the war. He was a damn good soldier, so I’m told. But he went and hot himself injured. He got hurt real bad. He lost his leg. Yep, that’s why he limps. He has a wooden stump. Sort of makes him walk a little funny. That’s how he got his name, Mr. P, short for peg leg.

He got sent home on a discharge. He did come back home and he took up living with his parents. His parents I heard was real poor. They took his money and promised him a place to live but they needed his money to help feed all of them.

Well you guessed it, they both up and died. No, not at the same time. When the Mom died, the Dad ended up in a home. The bank came and threw old Mr. P out because there was no money to pay the nursing home  payments with. Yeah, can you believe it? They threw old Mr. P right out on his ass. Left him with his clothes and his wooden stump. They didn’t even try to find him a place to live. Well that’s what I heard. That’s why you see him walking by all the stores each day. The poor man served his country, and matter of fact, so did I, and yet look where we both are now.

Yeah, I guess life isn’t what we think it will be when things happen, but we got to do the best we can and hopefully the good Lord will look down on us and smile. He will keep giving me a roof and poor old Mr. P some food. Well, that’s what I heard.broken heart

God’s Little Miracle


Grandma stayed to herself. She had raised her family and when the time came she took care of her husband. Her children were grown and lived miles a way from her. Oh they paid visits. Thanksgiving, Christmas or birthdays. Once in a while they would call on the telephone, but Grandma became frustrating to callers as she refused to wear her new hearing aid.

Soon the house became quiet. The telephone didn’t ring. The visits became more yearly with a card being sent at birthdays. Grandma had her fifteen year old cat, Sam for company.

Each week the closest neighbor and friend came to help Grandma fill her medicine box. Sara took Grandma to the grocery store when she went. Through the week days Grandma could be seen by neighbors using her cane and walking to get the mail.

If anyone was about she would stop them and ask them if they would like to come in for a quick visit; but kids are scared or unfamiliar with elderly so the answer was always no. The mail lady would chat with Grandma for a few moments but that was about the high light of her day as far as conversations go.

One day it was a beautiful fall day. Grandma wanted to sit outside in her back yard and watch the colorful leaves fall to the ground. She went through her back door and grabbed her lawn chair and scooted it to the precise point she thought she could get a good view.

She was enjoying herself. The breezes were nice. The air was warm but not humid. All she needed on was her cream-colored sweater. A gift from one of her children one Christmas.

She caught herself dozing off and soon decided she better get inside. Sam was going to be expecting his dinner and she needed to think about getting a bite to eat for herself also. When she tried to stand up she realized she had sat too long. Rising from the chair was not as easy as sitting down was.

The last time she rose the chair went with her. She lost her balance and fell to the ground with the lounge chair toppling over her. She caught her breath and  felt a small pain in her left hip.

She tried pushing the chair off of her and with great effort finally got it to lay on the side of her. When she tried to roll herself over to make an effort to try to stand the pain in her hip kept her frozen in spot.

She immediately looked around but this time there were no kids to be seen riding by. She was in her back yard. The sun was showing that it must be around four in the afternoon. She tried scooting herself but the pain was too great.

She lay there praying. “Dear God, please send someone to help me. Let someone see me laying here.” Minutes turned into hours. Shadows began to show on the branches of the tree.

She began to weep. Fear started creeping in. No one was going to find her. No one knew she was here. She lay there still and kept praying.

Someone was watching her though. From inside the house sitting on the window sill was Sam. Sam knew his master was in trouble. He mewed and flipped his tail. He jumped from the sill and went to the back door. He could see her but he could do nothing but howl.

Sam went from window to window. When he could jump on the sill he would and sit there howling. When he realized nothing was happening he repeated his steps, stopping to look out at his master.

On one of his stops he noticed that the window was open. He jumped up on the sill and sat there staring out the window. Soon he saw kids, the familiar kids that Grandma spoke to often.

He mewed and cried but they didn’t hear him. He rearranged his body and from the depth of his soul he howled like a lioness high on a mountain. Here are the wild cries the kids heard.

The kids came over to the window and were taken aback by the wildness in Sam’s voice. They got off of their bikes and crept a little closer. Sam jumped down and ran to the window where he could see his master. No kids came with him.

He ran back to the window where the kids were.cat He mewed again as loud as he could and then jumped back down and went to the other window.

After doing this three or four times the kids finally decided to follow the cat.

When they arrived they saw Grandma laying on the ground.

They reached  her and kneeling down saw her look into their eyes.

” Are you ok lady? Are you hurt?”

” My hip hurts a little. Can you go and get some help please?”

The boys stood up and raced to the front of the house. They got on their bikes and flew home as fast as their pedals would move.kids_on_diamondback_bicycles They ran into the house screaming at their mom that the lady down the street needed help.

The ambulance came quick. People gathered to see what was happening. The boys stayed near by to make sure the lady would be alright.

Grandma was treated and released back to her home with only bruises and mild pain. She was a little sore but God had answered her prayer. Nothing was broken and she was safe inside her house once again.

The beauty of this story is that within a week’s time Grandma met the mail lady and chatted a few moments before watching her leave. She saw the boys who had saved her life. She asked them the familiar question. ” Would you boys care to come in and have some cookies and milk?”

” Yes, mam, we sure would. We were just saying to each other we were hungry.”

Grandma smiled as the boys surrounded her walking back inside together. They all sat at the table smiling and laughing. The kids made Grandma feel young again. The boys felt like they had a second grandma.

The Secret is About Al


Today I had carpet laid in our kitchen. I always had tiles but since Al has come home the wheelchair and his weight have cracked a few, so time to do something different. We can’t walk on it too much today, so I think tonight is pizza party night. He will like this.

I decided to get myself out of the house. I ran to one of my favorite used stores. Then I went to Al and my favorite soda shop to eat. Last I ran to the grocery store. While I was at the used and collectible store I found something for Al. I have seen it for three weeks now but I just didn’t want to pay the price.

I told the owner about Al’s incident last night so she lowered the price and I snatched it up for him. As soon as I get done with this I am going to go place it in his room and wait for him to notice it. Knowing him he should take notice immediately. Oh I can’t wait to see his face. Will I see smiles? I sure hope so. I just had to let you in on my secret. I love giving gifts. I love seeing people’s faces, and hope to hears giggles and see smiles. Makes me feel like a kid at a candy store.

At the soda shop besides eating I grabbed a product that will help stop Al’s bleeding almost instantly. I sure hope it works as I don’t want either of us to have to go through last night  again.

Once at the store I ran in and ran out. There was a truck with a gentleman getting ready to open the door to put his grocery items in. I looked in the driver seat to see if anyone was in there. Why? I don’t know, just nosy I guess. I was surprised at who I saw in the driver’s seat. I had to wonder if he was old enough to drive. I hope you can see the photo  below and what I am talking about. Look carefully in the driver’s seat. It was so bright out that I was disappointed in the shot but didn’t have the heart to toss the photo. So, sorry it isn’t a perfect shot.

The last photo is of a sketching I did last night when I was waiting for the Hospice nurse to come. My son said it looks like a jelly fish, what do you think? So here are the three photos for you to see.

 

coca cola cartdogsketch

 

A Speeding Bus


On this post I am not going to beat myself up as my friends say to me. I do want to try and fix my problem. So what better place to go to get the help I need. I start my mornings rushing. The first thing I try to do is give thanks to God that I have one more day to cherish. I look outside to see the weather so I know how to dress.

I make the coffee. Before I get Al up I feel that I must clean the cat box. Sweep up the kitty litter so I don’t get it on my feet. Sometimes if I think about it I will wear socks upon getting out of bed. But then again, I will transfer it from my socks to the carpet. I try to make my bed. Feed the cat. Wash up and brush my teeth, get dressed.

By now I am getting tired because I still have to get Al up. So I race into his bedroom. I get him up. Take him to the bathroom. Scrub-a-dub him and dress him for the day. Shave him and then take him to the kitchen table.

I try to smile and ask politely what he wishes for breakfast, then I start that process. After his second or third bite I give him his medications. I try to force myself to sit down with him and smoke a cigarette and drink one cup of coffee. The problem is while I am sitting my mind is racing about what can I really be doing instead of sitting.

Before I put Al on the bus I have beds made and kitchen floor swept, dishes down, laundry is getting ready to be placed in dryer. On Thursdays like today, I have already changed both beds and it is washing.

Once he leaves I come in and take my own medications and eat my breakfast. Then I sit down to the computer or meet with Hospice. Maybe get groceries. I have to get groceries on Thursdays or Fridays. It is too hard to take Al to the grocery store so I feel like I have to get that done. Medication boxes need to be refilled.

Trash is constantly being gathered. I try to get out in my yard to do some yard work, but that doesn’t happen often. I think about the days I could go see my friend two  hours a way but something always comes up.

Just sitting here reading what I have read makes me tired. A few hours after I have been up I want to take a nap. Sometimes I do, but not much. I will try to take a nap in the afternoon so I can be ready to tackle the evening when Al comes home.

What did I enjoy through the day? Not much really. It sucks, it stinks and I don’t know how I got this way. But, in real truth, I don’t know how to stop. I guess I want everything perfect. I want everything to run perfect. I want to  prepare myself as much as I can for what ever may happen in the evening.

I even lay Al’s clothes out for the next day early today. That is crazy crap. No time for shopping usually. I have wasted it being to prepared. Prepared for what? A fire, tornado, break in, what?

How do I stop this? I really do believe in the words, slow down and smell the roses.

But I don’t know how to make it happen.speeding bus

It Isn’t Going to Get Better Is It


I was planning on going to meet the Hospice nurse today at Al‘s Day Program and then stop at the grocery store and get the list of things Al is running low on so I am not forced to take him out on the weekend. If we go out, I want it to be entirely for his enjoyment, and I don’t think a grocery store is something he would get excited about.

I met with the nurse and she took more time with him than usual. She checked his legs and feet, his toes, fingers and nails. She listened to his heart and his lungs. She listened to Al’s heart a few times and jotted down her familiar notes.

After telling Al goodbye and that I would see him in a few hours she and I talked out in our favorite hall. The first thing she asked me was, “have you read our book throughout yet?”

“Well bits and pieces.”

“You need to read all of it. It will explain a lot of what I am going to say to you.”

“Alright, when I get time.”

She then proceeded to tell me that Al’s toenails were dusking. I asked what that was and she said it was part of the process. What she really meant was that Al’s toenails are turning gray.

His fingernails were gray and half-way up his fingers, the skin was gray also. So now the toes and fingers are being affected. She said he had pitted Edema in his feet and a half-way up to the knee.

I sighed as I didn’t want to hear these terrible things. She stated that she could not hear his heart beat because it was so soft. She had to watch his breathing and get his pulse and respiration to get any details of his heart. She explained his heart is getting tired.

She then tried to encourage me by saying he could go on for quite a while like this. Once again I got the pat on the back as we both left through the front doors.

Al choked on his supper last night and had labored breathing this morning while I was washing him up. He looks a lot better on the outside then I guess his insides look.

I couldn’t deal with it. I so wanted someone to talk to, but there was no one. Even my son who I will speak to about it is off on a vacation from today until Sunday. So I did the next best thing. I went to Al and my favorite soda fountain and ordered a bowl of soup and added a fat piece of coconut cream pie. I drowned my tears in sugar. Now I regret it, as I will have to eat very light for my supper, but I guess it worked while I was eating because I didn’t cry again until I got in the car to go get groceries.Al on SundayCoconut-Cream-Pie-RE