In all of my life, which is many years, now being a senior citizen, I have always heard the line, “it comes in threes.” This could be appliances breakdown, financial crisis, or deaths usually. No doubt you have heard and experienced such saying.
The stroke of anticipation or perhaps fear knowing this does hold true, for the most part. Or have I/we just count to three and move on to reset the mode?
This past week, I had a bout with irregular heartbeat, which can cause some disturbance with the body, of course, but mentally. Am I going to die? Is this the one that will carry me onto Glory? Im still here. Shew!
Prior to this, my sweet neighbor passed on Monday morning. Her death was expected in time but it became a reality. It placed some sadness on our small, dead end street between neighbors.
Then on Friday morning, my tall trooper of a neighbor with many medical issues passed away from a heart attack, as he was beginning his day.
Within these five days, two deaths. Both houses are my view from my chair, as I write. How odd is that? Too close for comfort, now that grief has expanded.
Now if I die, this is a perfect triangle. How morbid thinking, I know, but my heart could have went haywire on me more-so to cause death. Am I number three, yet?
How odd, this is all so close. Both neighbors are grieving. Hopefully, I will be a strong anchor for them in the days ahead by being a good neighbor but praying for them of their comings and their goings or the emotions that emerge behind closed doors.
If all comes in threes, well number three is soon to come. It could be anyone. It could be anytime.
Death. It happens to us all, at some point. Until, please live and live life and take care of you. When the time comes, have no regrets. Live your best life now.
Be Blessed.
Matthew 5:4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
The holiday season is already emotional at times missing loved ones who have passed, those we cannot see or hug right now due to the pandemic and just the cherished memories that bring the tears that seem like they will not end.
Today, as I was working and minding my own business, I remembered that I had to make a run up to another office to pick up paperwork. As I walk in, the administrative assistant was wearing this pretty, red and cozy sweater. I loved it and told her so. It made me stop and look at it closely and see the weaving of the yarn and admire the red color. I love sweaters and this was one that caught my attention.
As I was getting my paperwork, I overheard her tell the other assistant that it was her mother’s sweater. It was about two months ago that her mother passed away quickly from Cancer and she was the only child to deal with the grief and what memories remain today and through all of the tomorrows. I was so thrilled to hear that it was her mom’s sweater and the thought came, she is wrapped in her mom’s love as she wears it now.
My paperwork is now in my hands and I quietly and quickly leave the office as they remain talking. Normally, I would stop and talk and all that as women do, as I enjoy and have a wonderful work family. I could not talk. I could not leave quick enough and hoping that they would not stop my feet from moving out the door. The tears were falling quicker than I could control as I entered the elevator hoping I would not run into anybody.
How interesting that such a thing can cause such a flow of emotions. A pretty red, cozy sweater was all it took. Again, the holidays don’t help and knowing next month will be twenty-five years since my own mother passed away of Cancer, also quickly. It all comes back seeing the same sweater that is not one you see often and knowing I buried my mom in her pretty red, cozy sweater (somewhat similar to that shown). The weaving of the yarn, the gentle black yarn mixed in just enough to add to the unique detail and knowing just how soft, it indeed brought back memories of yesterday.
“When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.” Author unknown
To observe attentively is to remember distinctly. Edgar Allan Poe
Recalling the past can awaken an emotional response. Remembering an event, a situation, or a person can evoke a shiver of excitement, the heat of anger, or the anguish of grief. … Most emotional memories are the result of cued recall. A certain date may trigger an emotional memory such as in the anniversary of a loss.
No doubt you have heard, ‘Driving Miss Daisy’ or have seen the cute movie. Yesterday, I was Miss Daisy and have been in the past. My husband of thirty-one years is my Uber driver for medical procedures only when required, otherwise I am on my own.
I have had my share of procedures and surgeries in my life. The medical side of it all does not phase me, I find it interesting. To know what to expect, I usually Google or YouTube to watch prior to the actual procedures. I know some are reading this and thinking, Oh No! I do. If I mention or ask questions, which I do, the doctor or dentist will look shocked. I want to know. I found myself yesterday sitting up and looking over at the instruments going to be used on me, while waiting on the team to finalize their stuff. The nurse asked if I was okay, which made me realize what I was doing. Part of me wanted to be awake to watch and learn. Although, I knew I’d rather be knocked out and I was.
As with all medical procedures, as such, no driving, no making legal decisions and recommended that someone should be home or near the day of surgery or procedure, especially. Normal stuff, right?
No matter and all through the years, I have found that my husband stinks at this requirement. The driving to and from is fine. It is the aftercare that he has no sense of what to do, even when told. It’s free time off work and off he goes to play disc golf or whatever. Yesterday was no exception. Of course, I am resting and laying low but to not even ask if I was okay, needed anything, etc., did not happen. I see him drive off into the wild blue yonder. Part of me perturbed yet again, but I’ve learned to just throw up my hands and give up. I have to be strong and push through. Don’t mess with his routine of playing disc golf, the same time, every day. I could be dead and he’d never know. The routine business of his day for him is typical of having Aspergers.
I just don’t understand him and odds are he does not understand me. Opposites attract is correct, I guess. After this length of time, neither of us care. Just drive me to and from for required circumstances and we both can go on our own way thereafter. It would just be nice to have been doted on more in my life instead of just expecting me to pick up and go, even after major surgery, of which I have done numerous times. I am woman, I am strong, I can do it all. I have had to. It gets old and I am getting old.
To write and read this and to believe he does such, just trust me. I just don’t understand and find it sad. Once, I had written down what to do and how this day of surgery was to take place for me. I thought he understood, as we discussed. It was in black and white, numbered and all he had to do was follow the steps and be at the hospital at the time of my surgery. He was not there. The surgeon allowed extra time to wait on him and then talked to me as I am there in the surgery waiting area to go through the doors of the operating room. He did not want to continue with surgery because of his absence. He was mad. I was mad but what was I to do? I told him to continue on, I was fine with going forward. I was alone before, I was alone at this point and I will always be alone. There you go. Thankfully, I always wake from anesthesia quick, and I really think the Lord knows I need to do so in order to keep things moving forward at home.
Thinking back of such incidents, telling my counselor of what I have dealt with, it seems unreal. Like my thoughts and telling my stories are lies. Unbelievable, but they are all real. Whether it be Aspergers or just a lack of common sense, I don’t know but it is what it is. Knowing where I am now, my health has and is taking a beating from the pressure. This makes me angry and to see him drive off to go play while I could use a bottle of water and a snack perhaps. I’ll go get it myself.
One thing about it, I had a ride to and a ride from the procedure, as he drove Miss Daisy.
So in all of this, not meaning to whine and have a poor me, pity party, perhaps it will wake someone up that is reading this or knows of someone similar, as to how not to treat your loved one. They are out there, whether man or woman, and clueless of what is required and needed for such medical or just day-to-day existence.
We are wired to be loved and cared for in life, especially in a relationship. Otherwise, it is very lonely and after awhile you learn to let go and not need the other so much. Sad.
“Do not be afraid or discouraged, forthe LORD will personally go ahead of you. He will be with you; he will neither fail you nor abandon you.” (Deuteronomy 31:8 NLT)
Just Pondering... 
