Weekend and Widow

Our weekend was OK. Had some good moments, some not so good moments. It's like that now, you know.

Jack was going to give Bessie a bath yesterday afternoon. This dog HATES water and, because she is so big, it's hard to get her in the tub. All it took was her hearing the water run and she came in the kitchen (where she is not allowed) and just looked at me like, "Noooooooooo". I couldn't help but laugh. I don't know how he got her in, but he did. Once she's in, she loves it, it's gotta feel good.

Of course, my husband, in his childlike mind, wanted to help. Jack just looked at me like, "Mom, no". We can't tell him not to help, but when he "helps", well, it's more work to have him there than if we did it alone. Bottom line, the dog got clean.

I talk to my Mother every Sunday morning. She lives in Los Angeles, where I was born and raised. My Mother is old now, and, how can I say this, well, she doesn't have all of her faculities anymore. Sad. She lives with my Sister now, can't live alone. My Sister called me last week and said that she thinks my Mother has a form of Dementia. After talking with her yesterday, I think my sister is right. The conversation we had was crazy. She really rattled me. Had to make another espresso after talking with her.

Am going to look into some sort of Support Group today, for me. I need something. There are times I feel so isolated and alone. After years of working outside the home and raising kids, being so busy all the time, the roller coaster has stopped and I am left to wonder, what now? It has been an adjustment, this staying home thing. I just wish it were under different circumstances.

All these years, my husband and I had always said that when Jack turns 18, we may travel, he said he wanted us to get a 1 bedroom house, so no kids could move back home. It was a standing joke. And we would laugh. The future looked so good. We both were looking for early retirement, begin a new chapter in our lives. The world was at our feet. The things we would plan. Oh, how we would sit up late at night, talking about what we would do once the last kid left the nest.

Of course, we all know how it really ended. No more planning a future. I have a future, but it will be by myself. I now have to make decisions I never thought possible. Never once did I ever think that instead of making plans for us to do the things we wanted with no kids, I am now being forced to plan a future without him. I am now his Power of Attorney. I get the task of keeping him alive or pulling the plug. I get the task of planning his funeral. Once all is said and done, I will be left without my husband. I heard the word Widow, and it just did not sound right. Can't you just say that my husband has passed and be done with it? Don't call me Widow. Just sounds too final.