Another non-manic Monday is just beginning in These titles mean nothing.
- Aug. 19, 2024, 5:57 a.m.
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- Public
I’m here. Between jig saws and notebook jottings. Somehow I’m sharing it with Frank Sinatra. Who would have thought? It was a very good year. All my bright tomorrows belong to you. And a whole wheelbarrow full of lyrics. Many romantic. Many with a bit of perhaps significance. I’m not a huge fan of his, but it’s hard not to think of vintage wine from fine old kegs, from the brim to the dregs.
So anyway, that’s where I am. My head is full of half formed thoughts. Of ways to reach the past, ways to anchor the present. Don’t worry. It will be ok. The migraine headache medicine ads will remind me of everyday life. Tell me Frank.
I’ve been thinking of my on-line guys. Bobby of course who I could put in my obit as the love of my life if only I knew his last name. He was golden. He called my a goddess once. Hard to beat that. Even if it’s only imaginary.
I decided not to go to writers group this month. I talked to Zelpha - who has a last name that I remember. She runs the thing and I was offering to make reminder calls notifying people of the meetings - but this month I just don’t want to. So I’m not going to make calls or write my thing or go. It feels a little freeing to decide to do that.
Jim is a little upset. Both my kids want me to go to writers groups. It’s the only thing I do. The only thing that gets me out of the house except for grocery shopping and doctors appointments. They think it’s good that I do SOMETHING. They are probably right but this month I’m taking off.
I have this week marked on the calendar as Democrat Convention. In Chicago. I’m not going to that either. It’s funny. One year when I was pretty active in the local organization, son John wanted me to try to go to the convention. He said he’d go with me. My kids have always had ambitions for me. It’s touching.
I was just remembering the sunny fall day in 1975 when I came home from my first day at my old old old job and 8 year old Jim asked 29 year old me if I’d made any friends at work. They’re always trying to make something of their mother.
I’m 78 now and this is the year I plan to die. I have until next June. I turned down the pills my brother offered me across the console of the little BMW. It must have taken a bit of effort for him to offer them to me. I’ve wondered since if it was the right decision. I could have taken them. I could have stowed them away against some future need. I could have lost them like my vibrator. And now we’re back to Bobby and Sinatra and middle of the night.
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Too many I’s in this entry. But what do I write about other than myself?
Last updated August 19, 2024
Just Annie ⋅ August 19, 2024
A very thoughtful entry. My daughters have given up having any ambitions for me. I must have convinced them that I am not going to be a joiner for the sake of joining. I did that enough as a student and a parent. I'm a tagalong when I want to be now and that's enough. Truth is, I like my own company best. I like the freedom to do what I want when I want.
I think I would have taken your brother's pills. Just in case. I don't mind getting older and I'm not afraid of being dead, it's the inbetween stage of lingering past the point I want to linger. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stop being able to do things (even though there are times I choose not to do them).
woman in the moon Just Annie ⋅ August 19, 2024
We share a lot. We are different people but still we are alike.
This is a very thoughtfufl note - this late summer morning, both of us among the cornfields.
gattaca ⋅ August 19, 2024
After watching both of my parents go through long, painful declines that lasted for years, my mindset is in a place that is near to where you are and where Just Annie is.
My sister and I have talked about this at length since my parents both passed and we both agree that it is undignified. All the money and insurance in the world did not improve, or even maintain, the quality of life that we thought should be their due in their so-called 'golden years'.
I will do the best I can with the time I have remaining, and by that I mean I will try to live well, perhaps even productively.
It seems we have to rely on healthcare in the US that is not only the most expensive of all the developed nations, but also of the lowest quality.
But I will not, under any circumstances, waste away in a bed in a nursing home While a for-profit healthcare system extracts every remaining penny of my net worth.
Sorry, I do go on. This entry touched a nerve. I hope you have years of good health and happiness ahead.
woman in the moon gattaca ⋅ August 19, 2024 (edited August 19, 2024)
Edited
We are all in the same boat. Let's hope things end somewhat close to the way we want them to.
A Pedestrian Wandering ⋅ August 19, 2024
I love your meandering way with words, always leaving images in my head as I read along. I have no desire to live a long life if it is to be decrepit and foundering. That's not living, that's just dying. Having watched the agonizing way my siblings went, I think I'd rather just die in my sleep (with or without pills). I want to diee while I'm still young enough to enjoy it!
woman in the moon A Pedestrian Wandering ⋅ August 29, 2024
Your last line is something to think about. Best not to drag it out too long. Do you remember Chevy Chase on early SNL reporting on the Generalissimo Franco? We don't want to be like Generalissimo Franco.
NorthernSeeker ⋅ August 21, 2024
i couldn't leave a message earlier today. hopefully things are better right now. i think suicide is a choice all people should have. i can't tell if you are really feeling you will die this year. i guess it seemed like a good idea when you wrote that.
woman in the moon NorthernSeeker ⋅ August 22, 2024
At my second to last job I had a lot of time to think. A lot of just making the time go by. I developed several ways of making the time past. One was imagining by death at each year of my life..... how it would have affected other people, what they would have done if I had died, what their lives would have been without me. I would run it all the way up to maybe 100. I found it an entertaining thing to do - if was like spending 1 penny, 10 pennies, one dollar, ten dollars, one hundred dollars, one thousand dollars, ten thousand dollars, one hundred thousand dollars, one million dollars, ten million dollars, one hundred million dollars, one thousand millions dollars (a billion). I never got to a billion. at some point I would buy real estate. The neighbor's farm. A nice house in Decorah in walking distance of downtown with an apartment in it that I would either rent out or live in and rent out the rest of the house. At some point I'd buy a diamond ring or maybe a tennis bracelet. I'd resubscribe to New Yorker. I'd hire a personal coach. I'd give money to various good causes.
So anyway during the age part of this game, when I was somewhere in my early-ish 60s, I determined 78 was a good year to die. I would be finished with most of my life, I should still be ok, not dependent. It feels funny to be in that year. It's like living through the year your mother died at - you look over your shoulder and just wonder.
Thanks for the note. I am not suicidal. I just think that way sometimes.