Here we go folks, one of those cryptic blog posts. I'm not trying to be cute here folks but sometimes I just have to get my feelings out.
Regular followers of this blog know that I've had a pretty good life. In spite of my recent rash of medical maladies (more in the past few years that my whole previous 70 years of life) I still have a pretty good life.
I have a loving and devoted partner/husband who loves me in spite of all my (many) flaws. No matter what, he is always here (to use a tired old cliche) "here" for me. Always. No questions asked. For the past fifty-one years. Where others have asked "What does he see in him", Bill knows me and accepts me as I am. And he knows I love him no matter what.
|Bill and me on our wedding day|
I have a good job. I have enough income to maintain my present living conditions for a few years to come. However, I am worried about the ever increasing costs of all my insurance policies, especially medical insurance. Hopefully I will die before it comes to a point where I can no longer afford the medical premiums.
I live in a very comfortable house for which I have worked all my life to attain. I am now here.
I live in a good neighborhood with kind and caring and respectful neighbors. I cannot emphasize enough how important it is where one lives. I have lived in too many neighborhoods where we were ostracized just because we were gay. Hopefully that will never happened again in our lifetime.
I have a few good friends whom I appreciate very much. They know who they are, no need to name names.
|Friends Wayne and Pat in happier times - 2013 Kalmyr Nickel|
But something has changed. Remember how I was so interested in family reunions and class reunions? In fact today my high school is holding a class reunion in Downingtown. It's being held at a friend and former classmate's house picnic style. I've attended those informal reunions before at his house. I won't be attending this reunion. The reason I won't be attending is that, when I told him of my marriage to Bill he said "What's next Ron? Marrying your pet?" When I pointed out to him that he just insulted me his response was "Well Ron, a lot of people believe that." He just doesn't get it. I was so disappointed in him because I really like him. In the past I've been a guest at his house Thanksgiving dinner and Christmas dinner. His wife and family have always been welcoming to me. But it's obvious now perhaps the only reason was because I knew my place, "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
Last year I had held one of my several family reunions that I've held over the past twenty years. This was the first one Bill came too. Hardly any of my family showed up including my brother who lives just down the road from the park where the reunion was held. I was so hurt and embarrassed by the blatant disrespect that I vowed never again in my life to hold another family reunion. And I will not. I normally held these family reunions in October. No more. Some of my family relatives attended and I appreciated their support but the large majority of my family has written me off apparently because I dared to bring my husband to the family reunion. "Don't Ask, Don't Tell".
|Last Family Reunion 2013|
A few years ago I lost contact with both of my brothers after I sent out Christmas cards with a picture of me and Bill at our marriage ceremony. Not one relative wished us well. They all knew I've been with Bill for all these years but apparently coming out in the open, that was where I went too far.
I still care for my brothers and their families, that will never change. But something has changed. I've changed. They haven't. I'm am embarrassment to them now.
Remember how involved I was with Find a Grave and the volunteering? Not anymore. I just don't care.
I keep a daily journal. I have for eight years now. While I enjoy writing in my daily journal, I sometimes wonder, what will become of that daily journal when I die? Does anyone care? The answer of course is "No." No one cares. I have over 80,000 photos on my computer. Does anyone care? No. When I die that history is gone . . . . forever. No one cares.
This past year several of my friends and acquaintances have died. My life as I know it is diminishing. Bill will be 87 years old this month. Thank goodness, he is still in good health albeit his hearing is less. He loves and cares for me just as much as he did when we met fifty-one years ago. And believe me folks, that is no small miracle because as anyone who knows me knows, I am not the easiest person to love. I am self-centered, egotistical, irritable, stubborn and whatever other negative adjective that you wish to apply. How do I know this? Because others have often told me so. I always get a kick out when some say "What does Bill see in you?" My answer? I don't know other than I think I'm a good person but that's probably for others to judge.
Anyway, these days I'm sleeping more in the morning. Where I used to get up at 7 in the morning, now I get up at 8:30 or 9. I frequently take an hour or so nap in the afternoon. And in the evening I wind down at 9 or 10 o'clock. I'm just tired. I think of my Mother, the few years before she died. She slept a lot. Almost round the clock.
These days I keep myself occupied by posting my blog entries, playing Scrabble on-line (a recent activity which I love), gardening, working part-time and Face Timeing my Canadian friend (you all know who that is). But even he is becoming less tolerant (and I don't blame him) of my sometimes selfish behavior. I don't mean to be so self-centered and try not to be but apparently I am without even realizing it. I always seem to eventually drive away all my friends, except Bill of course.
I usually take Bill out for a ride in the early evening. Sometimes we go down Oyster Rocks Road to the Broadkill River and be one with the solitude of those wetlands. We went down there last night. As we drove to the dead end of the road we saw a huge crane take flight. I've always admired cranes, egrets and birds of that type. For many years I believe my Mother when she told me I was "born" when a stork brought me to the Chester County Hospital. I really believed that and always wanted to see where the storks landed at that hospital. Seeing that crane take off last night to me was a metaphor for when my life comes to an end. That crane will take me away. Take me away from all the pain, uncertainty and cruelness of this earthly existence.
As I said before, I've had a good life and continue to have a good life but I feel something coming on. A change. Too many people I know have gone. People I used to call and talk to when I was lonely and felt this creeping sadness that threatens to overwhelm me. Ron (another one), Ed, Sal, Bob, Wayne, Penny, my Mother and even my brothers. All gone now. Waiting.
|My longtime friend Ed at his home on Laurel Street in Rehoboth Beach|
Sometimes it is hard for me to hold everything together but rest assured I will continue to do so even though the Black Dog is paying me a visit again. I have too much going for me in this life. However, one day this will end too and I will have no regrets. I have lived, loved and been loved and what more could anyone ask?