Merry Christmas

Another Christmas is almost over. Thank goodness. Bryon and I were not what one might call "Christmas People" I think what we didn't like was the commercialism of it all. Going out, buying things, not knowing if it was what the other person wanted. Key word"wanted" Who cares, a gift should be given from the heart, not something based on what you think the person wants. My greatest gift from Bryon was unconditional love. My gift to him was all my love. We both came out winners on that. This year we only gave presents to the grandchildren. My gift to my kids was a meal made with love, a happy place to enjoy one and other. To laugh, hope, and remember. This was my third year without my life partner. No, I can't say that it gets any easier, I just learned to cope, to embrace what I have right now.

So too all those wonderful people who read my blog, I wish you happiness, contentment and peace within yourself.

Thank you too all my readers, especially those in Russia.

Спасибо и вам всем моим читателям, особенно в России

I hope that in some small way my blogging about my journey with cancer and my husbands death has helped you.

Я надеюсь, что в некоторых малых путь мой блог о моей поездке с раком и смерти моего мужа помогла вам

Without the bad times I could not really appreciate the good ones.

Без плохие времена я не мог реально оценить хорошие

It's alright

It's alright to cry when you are sad, to scream if you want. To let all the pain out. Not everybody will understand but who cares. It is my life, and I will do what I want as long as I don't hurt anyone. Other peoples lives go on, they think mine is to. They don't want to see the tears in my eye, or that far away look I sometimes get. These are the times that I am remembering, times that I am mourning the loss of what will never be.There are times that I just don't want to smile or laugh at your silly joke. If you respect me, then respect the fact that there are times that I just can't hide my sadness. I do still enjoy life, the simple things, the quiet moments, the memories. I celebrate each and every day that I wake up.
Life and age is starting to creep up on me. Since I broke my hip my arthritus had gotten worse, there are days I can hardly walk. Tendonitus is my constant companion. I miss my husband even more when I am fighting with the can opener, or my hand will not co-operate when using a knife. But this is what getting older is all about. The saying goes: if I had know I was going to live this long,I would have taken better care of my body.......probably not! When this body finally packs it in, it will have been well used with the scars to  prove it. 

A storms a coming

On December heaven received another of our family. Marie Jessup, Bryons mother died. I know that there is going to be one heck of a storm down here when they meet up. Not a storm in a bad way but more like one big party for them. I can see them cracking open a bottle of whiskey for Marie and beer for Bryon, then watch out. Those two could talk for hours, often as not, Bryon would goad his mother to a point one would think the conversation would end up in a major argument. Bryon loved to say things to get a rise out of Marie. He used to regal me with stories of growing up with her as his mother, happy times. Casey, her husband will be at a loss as to how to go on. Go on he will, for he is strong, but as I know all too well, life will not be the same. It brings me comfort knowing that mother and son are reunited once again.

On a different note.......furnaces. Specifically ones that decide not to work when it is cold outside. Yup, mine packed it in (or so I thought) This was Bryons area of expertise, not mine. I took the front off and oh look, no pilot light. My neighbour came over, read the instructions and tried to relight it. Didn't work, so I spent the night huddled under my electric blanket with my two dogs for company. (it was a two dog night) I asked a friend at work about lighting it, and he said that maybe something that was supposed to light it was broken. His suggestion was to call a furnace guy in not to try to light it again myself.  He doesn't know me very well.
At lunch time, flashlight in hand I went down to the beast. I read and reread the instructions paying careful note about 1. smelling gas 2. what to do if I did 3. what to do if the little red button didn't pop up.(basically, get out of the house and call a repair man or the fire department.)Undaunted I grabbed the B.B.Q  lighter, got down on my knees, and with the help of my two dogs, turned the knob to off, then to pilot, put the flame in the hole where the pilot light thing was and prayed. No explosion, that is good, but no flame, that is bad. Once again I repeated the procedure and on the fourth try, blessed be, a flame. So now as I sit typing this I am enjoying the heat. (sorry Bryon for all the not so nice thoughts I had)

Party on Bryon and Marie