I Nominate the Other Terry


“A person starts to live when he can live outside himself.”

I was looking at some quotes said by Albert Einstein and came across this one.

I tried to imagine how my life would be so different if I lived outside of myself. Could there possibly be two Terry’s in this world. Look exactly alike, but totally different views. What about you, can you play the game? Vision two of yourself? How would your days change?

For me, there is the one Terry who has stayed hidden within myself. Afraid to speak for fear of too many tears falling. A good example is today in fact. I had to go to the doctor for lab work. The technician always tries to embark me into conversation as she knows I get nervous. She asked me how I was doing and I instantly broke into tears. She gave me a hug and then one of the nurses came by and saw the scene I was causing and she gave me a hug. I was so glad to be able to leave and go back home and  hide.

 

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The other Terry would have hugged the idea to be able to speak to someone I consider a friend. She would have smiled big, talked to her about how I finished my book about my brother. Maybe I would have commented on the upcoming days with low humidity.

When I arrived home I kicked off my shoes and dug into cleaning. My daughter is arriving in my area late tonight and this does cause excitement to bubble up in me. I really didn’t see much to do as it is me living here and I don’t make messes, but I, out of habit, must always clean when company is arriving. I cleaned in quietness, and ate because my sugars were dropping and then laid down to nap.

The other Terry would have grasped the sunshine, grabbed my camera and went to the boardwalk to take photos. I would have inhaled all nature around me. I would have taken in all beauty and have been so wrapped up in my joy I would have lost track of time.

I have been trying hard not to stress; but it is easier said than done. I do know, without a doubt, that God has not allowed me to work. The reason being is I am not sure. I feel it deep within my bones that I am supposed to make a change; but what it is, I don’t know, so I keep praying and waiting.

The other Terry would be out there in the workforce world. She would be smiling and content as she would know, with no doubt, that the job she was doing was to benefit; not only herself but for others also. She knows herself, she holds her head up high. She walks with a step of confidence.

Somewhere inside myself I knew who I was, but am not sure any longer. I feel as if God has closed the chapter of my life as a caregiver. I don’t like being this way. There are deep, hidden values that I crave and want in my life, but I won’t go into those at this point.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to cleverly slide out of my old skin and slip into something more comfortable.

 

The Brown Paper Bag


Every person that walked by stared. Some laughed, some pointed. Sitting on a rickety, barely painted, white bench was an old man. He had a wrinkled, brown bag beside him. Once in a while he would open the bag and look into it, then he would roll it up tight.

He wore a pair or worn, baggy black pants. His shirt was colors of plaid and one button was missing, showing a little bit of belly. A corduroy jacket, with matching hat and shoes that looked like they should have been shredded years ago.

Little kids walked by and stopped. Mommies told them not to stare, but they couldn’t seem to help themselves. They had never seen anything like him before. Pulling their children by the hand, they hurriedly walked past him.

Clouds hovered around him. Looks of rain were near but he didn’t budge from his seat. He waited as one by one passed him over. He reached to the side of him and picked up the big, black book. It looked well-worn.

He opened it up and where ever it opened he read. Then he would close it and look to the heavens. Closing his eyes he would mumble words I could not hear what he said.

A group of people walked up to him and stopped as most did. Young people. Hair out-of-place, tattoos pasted on arms and legs. Language he didn’t understand. They stood and he ignored them; opening his book once again.

The young people were not used to being ignored. They moved closer and one of the girls sat down beside him. Still, he didn’t say a word, nor look at them.

” What ya doing old man? Lost and can’t find your way?” The others laughed and the man ignored her. He opened his sack and reached down inside of it. The girl stood up, not sure what he was going to pull out. Maybe a gun, or a knife, she was prepared.

When he lifted the small book out of the sack he handed it to the girl. She looked at it, turning it over, flipping through pages. The others came closer and looked at the book too.

” What’s this? Is this for me?”

He nodded and her mask fell off and she sat back down. ” No one has ever given me anything before. Why you being so nice to me? You don’t know me old man.”

” I knew when you were walking towards me that what you were trying to express by your hair and your clothes is that you wanted to be noticed; you wanted to be cared about.”

The crowd of young people went near him. They filled up the bench and knelt on the sidewalk around him.

It’s a Start


I felt sick. I thought I was going to vomit. I felt panicky.cats

Ever since Al passed away a volunteer that used to bring Al baby food or sherbet has remained when Hospice left. This lady named Sue is amazing.

She knows everyone and everyone loves her. She has nudged, called and begged me to go places with her.cell phone

I have fought it each time I get the invitation. You have to understand that my life revolved around Al. There was no outside life. Everything I did was on the inside of these four walls. Sort of like living in a cardboard box full of sadness.box

Even today a month after he has left this world, I head for my bedroom. It is the farthest away from Al’s room. I feel secure and hidden apart from the hustle and bustle of the outside world.

I didn’t even realize that I had been turning into a hermit, so to speak. The comfort zone in my room was all mine. I share it with no one. But, because I like Sue, I give in and accept her invitations. This is where the jitters come in and the sick stomach. I think it is called panic attacks.chains

I become chained to these four walls and it takes some heavy-duty prodding to get me out of here. Even going to the grocery store is not appealing to me. I get in and I get out and get back home.

Thankfully, I recognize that this is not normal for me. I used to be a get up and go gal, so I realize I need to change, but wow, is it ever hard. Have any of you ever been in these types of situations?

Panic attacks, are something else. I had them several years ago and somehow fought through them and don’t want them to take permanent residence within my body again. Heart beating fast, tingling of hands, sweating, a feeling of dying. Totally stressed to the max.

I started getting them about three months before Al passed. They are caused from exhaustion and stress. The body gets weak and tries to run on over-drive. Panic attacks for me can  pop up when ever I am the most vulnerable, meaning tired and lack of a good night’s sleep.

I have dealt with these and then for a while after Al passed they left. Since last Saturday happened when I realized I was really never going to see Al again until I got to heaven I have had minor panic attacks again. I am fighting them with all my might. I don’t want them to run and ruin my life ever again.

So tonight, of course I accepted that invitation again. I was sick and nervous. I got inside the building and all I could think about is getting out of there as fast as my fat little legs would go.

But, I stayed. I forced myself to take a half of a little white pill the doctor prescribed to me for instances like this. I went to my doctor this week. He said he had no doubt I would become addicted because he and anyone else that knows me understands I HATE TO TAKE MEDICINE.

After about a half an hour I started to calm down. The tingling left, my heart slowed down. I started to talk and I know here and there I smiled. I even danced one time. And on top of that I was introduced to a great-looking guy and we chatted for a while.

Inside I am  hoping we get to chat again. He has dark hair like Elvis Presley and he sounds like Elvis too. We have some things in common. If God wants anything to come together between this nice guy and me, he will make it happen.elvis presley

So a little chatting, a few smiles, sharing girl talk and dancing, I was glad I went. Tomorrow I have been invited to a fish fry. I accepted that invitation also.kicking

Is Al Talking to Me or Someone I Can’t See


Well my girlfriend is gone. We ran to Wal-Mart to try to find a stethoscope because I thought mine was broken. They didn’t have one and when we returned home my friend had a call waiting that told her that her granddaughter was getting ready to have her baby, so she headed home so she could be a part of this magnificent miracle.

The Hospice nurse came and she discovered there was an issue with my stethoscope and she fixed it. I was relieved. Al is still moaning and groaning. He sometimes doesn’t act like  he is aware that we are there.

He has asked me to take him to get tires for his car. He has pleaded to just get out of his bed and go somewhere. He has slept about 10% the entire weekend. Today after the lunch hour he has been asleep for 15 minutes.

It sounds like his is chanting. I am not sure whether he is talking to me or maybe someone he sees that we don’t. The nurse said with his not eating and drinking he will not be here too much longer.

I wish I could calm his moans. I can’t help it friends. It does tend to get to you after a while of hearing it. He did ask for ice-cream this morning but ate three bites and that was it. His urine has turned from an amber color to some sort of weird yellow I had never seen.

I would give my right arm to take a way all he is going through, but I can’t. I am going to go lay down since I have a caregiver until four today. I just wanted to touch base. I will try to write again later today.indiana saying

Mysterious Dog and Cat Story, A True Story in My Home


DSC00324rhino 4These two animals, one fat cat, Rhino, and one tiny, miniature bull-dog are the topics of this post. The stories of these two are similar but yet different.

Rhino is a determined cat. At one point there was a mouse in the house. I had not seen him prior but Rhino discovered him. I saw this fat little creature with my flashlight. He was walking the electrical wire that was in a very narrow opening. This fat mouse was being able to get in an area that my fingers could not reach to plug the hole. It was between a vanity and the wall. The hole was a little bigger than the electrical wiring that was coming up from the outside in.

An idea seemed to work I had. Furnace filter without the card box edging was folded and shoved in the tiny width. It fit perfect from height to width. I can’t see the mouse. The  mouse can’t see me.

But Rhino knows that this mouse had been there. Rhino sits in the bathroom for hours upon end each evening waiting his nice little snack.

Now the story of the bull-dog. This was in a special case of items that I purchased from my children’s grandmother’s estate a year ago this week. It is so tiny, I am shocked that it has survived all these years.

It is the very old,  hard  plastic from years gone by. I can’t even make a dent in it with my finger nail. This bull-dog has disappeared off and on through the year I have had it. It doesn’t mean anything to me really, except the fact that it probably belonged to their kids or the parents themselves.

It is also odd that this dog appeared last night on the year anniversary of the grandmother’s death. So this is the history of these two animals. One alive and one with a mysterious past.

Now to last night. I will back this  up to three days a go. Rhino who weighs twenty-five pounds and seems afraid of nothing smaller than himself has taken to racing out of the bathroom .

Now to see this fat cat running is comical in itself, but to see him running as fast as his four paws can take him is something else. He has done the same thing three nights in a row. He runs out here. Sits right beside me with big open eyes and meows one time real loud. Then he takes off for my bedroom and hides under neath my bed and doesn’t come back out for a couple of hours.

The dog who has been missing for some time now. Which I believe was seen around Halloween of last year suddenly appeared last night. I had come out of Al’s room after checking and tending to his needs. I checked my sugar levels as I have had big issues this week with my sugars dropping too low. I fixed myself a turkey sandwich and brought it here to the computer and sat down to munch on it.

While eating it I felt something hit my hair. Sort of like when a fly lands on your head? You feel something but it doesn’t hurt. I started to put my hand cautiously up on my head and then felt something drop on my lap.

Thinking a piece of bread  had broken off from my sandwich I looked down ready to pick it up and throw it a way. It wasn’t a piece of bread or any crumb. It was the bull-dog. I sat frozen. I thought, where in the world did this come from?

Then I came out of my freeze and picked it up. I turned it over and I was just checking it out, wondering how it had fallen from my hair to my lap. Especially when I had not seen it for some time.

So the mysteries remain. I have went immediately to the bathroom after Rhino makes the mad dash and with a flash light checked out the entire room. No mouse droppings, no mouse, no nothing. The bull-dog comes to me out of nowhere.

The only common denominator between these two is that they are both animals. Anyone have any comments on this topic? I would love to hear what you have to say.

I Had To Post This Because We Are All in This Together Fighting


A gentleman I have been introduced to and have since become friends with has started a brand new blog. When he showed the blog link to me earlier today I immediately went to it and read word for word with sorrow and yet familiarity to the words.

I am posting his blog here so that many of you can understand a little more of what Al and I have been faced with over the years.

Please feel free to read and comment to him if you would like. I just hate it when I think of others who are in any way suffering as Al and I do.

 

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http://jallenton.weebly.com/

Oh So Beautiful


I was reading a forward a friend sent me and I just loved it. I thought, I bet my friends at WP will love it also, so I am going to share it with you.

 

I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, You found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”

I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many times, your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at the shops today, Your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.

I was with you at my grave today, You tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I’m not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you, I smiled and said ” it’s me.”

You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.
It’s possible for me, to be so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.”
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew…
In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.

The day is over… I smile and watch you yawning
and say “good-night, God bless, I’ll see you in the morning.”
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.

Be patient, live your journey out…then come home to be with me.

Author ~ Sammie Klaehn

dog affraid of thunderstorms

Look Outside the Box


Life is hard here at home. You all know it by following my blog. I try very hard to find one thing that I can see to show me life is still alive and hope is still something I can cling to.

Today, I raced down to the mailbox to see if a gift has arrived that Al; http://kattermonran.com, has arranged for my brother, Al.

When I came back I heard some strange sounds. I looked up into the skies and these were flying in circles above our house. I hurried inside and grabbed my good friend, my camera and stood outside waiting for them to return. Here is what I captured.

If you don’t take time to notice the small stuff, you won’t ever appreciate the big stuff………..T.S.

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2013 in review


The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 93,000 times in 2013. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 4 days for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.