Memories

I’ve been thinking a lot about the past while writing about those “Good Old Days” out on Highway 81, Last Christmas my daughter gave me a series of questions to write a new chapter each Monday, although I have to admit there are some weeks lately that the each Monday is becoming “maybe tomorrow”. It’s rough having to admit I’m forgetting a lot of those old stories and I’m trying to get the chapters written before they are gone forever.

So today I managed to write another chapter in my book of life. This is about the gift I always wanted but never received, Very easy. I always wanted someone to make a quilt for me. I’ve made them for everyone in my extended family and while they have made some for other family members no one has ever made one for me. But a couple of hours later I remembered the quilts my Mother made for my sisters and me and kept them in large bags in her closet. We found them the day before her funeral, It was easy to tell which was for who. After the funeral my grandkids came to visit me and I ended up giving them the quilts so they wouldn’t forget their great-grandmother.

I might have mentioned the fact that I’m in the process of making quilt tops to use up my stash of fabric before I move. My kids will store the tops for me and bring them as needed for me to quilt. I love the quilting part best. Cutting out all those pieces is a pain most of the time, and then sewing the little pieces back together again is a definite pain in the derriere. But I’m close to finishing the third quilt for my own great-grandson who will be born in late September.

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WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

All those “friends” who said they would be here for me when I got home. The ones I have tried to help each time they ask for something when they are not feeling good or when they have spent their money on cigarettes rather than food and now are feeling hunger pangs. All the ones who assured me they would be here as soon as I got home, bringing me food and help during my recovery? If I sound a bit bitter here it’s because of one of that category in particular has made so many promises but always seems to be waiting for — hmm, waiting for WHAT?

I have told myself over and over to take those promises as I would any hot air balloon and enjoy the show but never think they are anything but a show. It’s a good thing I can survive on my own and that I know deep inside my mind that I’m the only person I can ever count on. It makes life lonely but real for me. And each time I tell myself they won’t be getting anything from me again I know I’m lying to myself. But now I know it’s not going to happen that way. It just isn’t in me to turn my back on a person in need of help.

Sorry for the way I’m feeling at the moment. Suffice to say I have been here alone since Mike brought me home and the only reason I’m writing this today is because I know my kids never read it. They would be here if they knew what a mistake it was for me to come home rather than go into a nursing home for rehab. Deep inside myself I knew none of the people promising help would come through, but still, hope runs deep in my veins. Eventually someone might actually surprise me and actually show up with something necessary for comfort.

I’m not forgetting the one who brought me lunch yesterday. He wasn’t one of the neighbors here. He was a friend from another place and time. That might be my problem! I should have been born a century earlier when people counted on neighbors who were always there to help because that was a time when people didn’t have the things we have these days — phones to call someone if we need help, electronic everything for entertainment, up to date life styles that keep us busy in a “me first” atmosphere.

As for my “toy”? I’m renting it from a local business and had to have them change it yesterday because of defective brakes that wouldn’t release. They brought me a replacement and the brakes on that release. Actually the brakes are always released on the new one. That one rolls over everything except the little humpy thing where the carpet and kitchen flooring meet. Mike said he would check that out for me since it was the only other one the company had. Mike can fix everything he gets his hands on. He can also fix my moods when I get in a bad one. He will be here after he gets off work tonight. He will also bring me food that the neighbors seem to think I can get for myself. And this is one that will never be published. Just something I had to get out of my head so I can move on to the rest of the day.

July now and I just found this. Funny how some things never change! I was never going to post this one but now that I have to move on to something else I realize I’m the one who has to do the changing. I should become as mean and as blind to the pain of others as they seem to be. But then I have to realize I don’t know what is going on in their lives. They could be in pain that doesn’t show, suffering through some personal loss, or perhaps just plain tired! I know I am — tired, that is. So now I’ll just grab my blanket and pillow and sleep for a few weeks and regain perspective.