Loneliness cannot be compared any more than comparing apples to oranges- they are both round, they are both fruits, they both contain Vitamin C, they can both be eaten, they can both be made into juice and drank. They can even weigh about the same. - one is not better than the other. Except to a personal preference and taste. - both are good for you, but if you live only on either, it will make you sick.

I am in many groups online, some thru Facebook, some are not. And I read a lot of complaints about “rules of the house” - and whether someone agrees with those rules or not. There have been some very adamant stands - on both sides of the fence. I haven’t gotten involved in any of the discussions - just holding my words.

We all need a moon in our lives. 

There are people in our lives who are “toxic” for one reason or another. No judgment or criticism from me on those that you choose to cut out of your life, for whatever reason there is - that’s your heart, mind and soul’s decision.

Many years ago I remember going with Rick to Granny McCoy's house. When I stepped out of the car, I could hear her groaning and moaning. Walking into her little house, I could see her sitting in her chair, with her legs up on her ever present blue bucket that had a pillow on top. 

For these 8 years since my loss, I have thought something isn’t right with me. My thoughts of this intense grief is that it had settled on me, like some pea-soup fog. Leaving me to wonder if this is depression. Even being told by one doctor that it was indeed, depression. Then, the calm voice of reason from another doctor, “Margaret, you are not depressed. You are a WIDOW.”

I don’t think you have to be a widow to have thoughts and emotions of epic proportions

If you knew Rick, or even just talked to him for longer than 5 minutes, you knew (or would realize) just what a different creature he was. 

I love pearls. 

Coffee thoughts: Not enough coffee? Too much?

I wish you knew....

I need the quiet.

11 years ago when I had cancer surgery - a radical hysterectomy for aggressive uterine cancer, my oncologist told me that one of the lingering effects to the surgery would be in my legs, ankles and feet. Explained that a normal person's blood goes from their heart to big toe and back to heart in 2 seconds or less - but since he had to remove the part of me that does that, mine would now take 20-45 seconds.

People don’t know. Unless someone had a likeness to the life we lived, to the love we shared - they don’t know what it is like to live this now, without all that. 

Wednesday morning coffee thoughts:

Rick and I both went to a small country church just a few miles from where I was born and raised.

I have begun the task of moving from the website that I have had since about 2010 to this new website. 

8 years ago today, early in the morning, you woke up for the last time. Said your legs were cramping. I walked around the bed, laid my hand on your chest, and looked into your eyes.8 years ago, I saw love in your eyes, just as I had seen every day for the previous 34 years, 7 months and 17 days. 8 years ago, you took your final breath with my hand on your chest. 8 years ago, the EMT’s worked for over the golden hour with no response. 8 years ago, I was told there was nothing more that could be done, that you would never be better. 8 years ago, I had to say those words: “let him go”. Words that have echoed in my hollow heart and tormented my grieving soul since spoken.

I woke up a couple of hours ago, watched a couple episodes of "Everybody Loves Raymond" - one of Rick's favorite sitcoms.

I am not a wise one. I am not the one to swoop in and rescue anyone.

Coffee thoughts for a Wednesday morning : If ever there is anything in life that mimics the layers of an onion, it is being a widow/widower. Therapists and counselors use the words “stages of grief”. But in these 8 years I have learned at least one thing. 

Coffee thoughts and memories - 

Sitting here with what? 

I sit here with only 7 more wake ups before I will be on that 8th year day of when my world caved in.