A good breakfast of ciabatta, sopressotto, an egg and leftover Popeye's chicken reheated from the day before. The breakfast of champions to keep one going all day.
Follow me down a new pathway
A dinosaur tree( Treeus cartoonious)
Not sure if these are fighting or what. Help me out MOBugs, they did look like separate species.
The fruit here is Osage Oranges or Hedge Apples, not anything to eat.
With age came the loss of a few friends and family members. The years slipped by and soon she became the main driver, her husband’s memory skills were gradually slipping. One day he went to get the keys off a holder and she asked him what he was doing. He sat back down and told her he had errands to run. She reminded him he hadn’t driven in a few years and picked the keys up off the table and put them in her apron pocket. He stood and grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her into a wall. This was someone who had never gone against her in his life and she was very startled. He sat back down and continued eating his breakfast as if nothing had happened, Within a few hours she had an appointment made with his doctor and he was soon placed into skilled care with a new diagnosis called Alzheimer’s. The disease had been progressing slowly through the years, but soon took hold of their savings and after a few years his life. This was a hardship she had never expected or given much thought. It had been many years since she had been on her own. She joined a support group and was amazed how many others had been in similar situation as she and received lots of comfort to iron out her problems.
Flying down south she had movers come in and take what possessions she wanted and put her home on the market. Many had offered to buy it should they ever want to sell and it was taken quickly. It was hard to see it go, but memories floated around it that made her angry not to be part of still. A few more people left her life and soon there were only a few family members left to be part of her world. Slowly the numbers dwindled and she moved up to be close to her daughter and her dreaded son-in-law. Age wasn’t always as gracious as it should be she felt and she often told stories of friends and family abandoning her for heaven. That bitterness grew and expanded building up remorse only she would understand.
A call came and she was told her son-in-law had been in an accident and was at a local hospital. A neighbor took she and her daughter up to wait for any improvements. She called family in and looked at the possibilities of what would become of this. A grandson sat next to her, talking about the moments they had shared and enjoyed through life. He even remembered fixing broken figurines with her for the shelves in his bedroom. She looked at him and saw a combination of his father and lots of similarities of her first husband he had so much adored. She gave him that look, the look to stop the world and moved to another chair. Soon they were called into the room to say their last good-byes and she didn’t want to show much emotion for the man who had been a big part of her life in recent years. She had often told her daughter she could have done better, but her daughter could not imagine anyone ever filling his place. At his wake she repeated herself a few times with, “If you had a wart on your nose, and had it taken off, you would still miss it.” Nobody said a word, feeling this was her way to grieve for this great person, and she never really had much good to say about anyone dead or alive. A grandson asked if she wanted to come and live at his home and was given that look, a look to never ask again.
In the next few years visits from family were sparse, a bit of hardship accompanied each time to see this bitter lady. She carried on the conversations until it began to wear thin and her company would leave. Her grandson tried to get her out of her home for errands, but this always ended with some sort of disparity of what he had said and how he had said it. As soon as he left she would call his mother and tell her what she didn’t like, often being reminded he was only trying to help her. That look would be carried along the telephone wires and it signaled to end this conversation. Her daughter often told her son to walk softly, but it didn’t help all the time. He enjoyed helping her and wished he could brighten her life and help make her happy. It was hard to understand the bitterness she harbored, but at this time he had only lost a few people in his life, where she described her situation as all. Her daughter passed away and her life became a shell of what it had been. She soon followed and shocked many how old she had been in comparison with others in her family. Her grandson had her cremains placed in a rose garden at a church she had once attended and donated her savings to caring for this beautiful area she had often enjoyed. It is hard to be that last member of a family and he understood her feelings better, now being the patriarch of this family. He sat one day and saw his daughter getting into a cookie jar when she wasn’t suppose to before dinner. He called her name and lowered his glasses and gave her that look, that look that could stop all happenings in life and she put the lid back on without any verbal exchange.
Amazing when I looked back this tale started back on September 16, with a title , "Scene One." This was a series how I share family history with you of people I interview. I love to hear multigenerational tales, it builds a good story for me to portray. Maybe sometime we can get together and you can share your story, a song of love, carried on a gentle prairie breeze.