why old people cry

Sunday, May 10, 2020

my mind has had me going in all sorts of directions today. Overnight I had a very vivid dream of a time I worked in television on a story with a very well known guy and the producer was questioning me about my day rates while the famous guy was at his desk within ear-shot getting his things together. It was never a good sign when a network underling would bring up the subject of how much you would be charging on the day OF the shoot. All those details are set in stone by unions and well known ahead of time so I was getting annoyed. I ended up having to explain a few things I never should of had to and by the time I was finished everyone in the office overhearing this nonsense was visibly uneasy except for the famous guy who knew me very well and had this satisfying smirk on his face like, you tell em' zuke.. Then I woke up at the crack of noon.and was reminded by my phone, my laptop, and my desktop that today was Mother's Day as if I had to be reminded my first "Mother's Day," since mom went to heaven.

For the past 2 or 3 years now I had designated every Sunday as Mother's Day where I would come over and we would cook lunch and maybe go for a drive for her to see how much the city had changed. We would watch some TV, talk about some politics and the stock markets, and what all I had scheduled for work in the coming week and just generally fix all the problems of the world and scoff at those screwing it up. So today's harsh reminders that it was Mother's Day after losing my mom just a few months ago only served to re-enforce what I already knew, there is no place in this society and no solace in this world for motherless sons and daughters.

My decision some time ago to make all Sundays a special day for us would turn out to be a godsend in a way for me as all the lucky ones who still have their moms got to celebrate while I was blessed with just having another sad day like all the ones since my mom left this world. No better and no worse than all the others, just another one.

I had a couple moments earlier but got through em OK and it reminded me of when my Gran used to tear up and cry at the end of a visit when it was time to go home. I didn't understand it then but I think I do now. My mom and I cried together several times near the end and it felt much the same as when her mom would cry and it had all come full circle with us. I know now why we cry sometimes when we get older and it isn't just a sad thing to see, it's also a very loving expression one reserves just for those loved the most who the elder fears they may never see again on this earth. 

A lot of cruel things happen to us when we get old but perhaps the cruelest of them all is not being ready for the end and being totally aware when it's near. My mom knew and her mom knew before their time here on earth had come to an end and those tears were the only way they had left to tell you how much they will miss touching your face and feeling the warmth of that hug and hearing your voice just one more time. 

When older people cry it's a very tough thing to see because down deep we know what it means. The love and the fear one feels when you get older is far more intense than it once was and it is to be embraced and given it's due on the spot when it presents itself. My mom would tell me for days before she left this earth that she was dying and I wasn't having any of it even though I could see we weren't getting any better. And just as I thought all my emotions had been spent here would come another intense wave and I would whale like a wounded animal whenever I managed to get to out of earshot of everyone.   Crying when we get old is that thing our mind makes us do when we can no longer express everything we feel with words.

Most older people have already given everything they have ever had to others by the time they leave this world and crying with me near the end was us sharing the massive loss that was to come. Mom worried about what would happen to me without her here because she knew she was my entire world. I told her I would be OK and not to worry but I was never good at lying and she worried.

If you live long enough you will see your families grow up and move away, friends will die, faces and memories will fade and loneliness and heartache may be your only companion. When you see an older person cry it may be for you like it probably was for my mom. Whatever it's about it needs to be held and comforted and touched and made easier.

God knows that I feel like if I never take another breath of air on this earth that I have experienced the greatest unconditional love a human being can know by my mom who was always my everything. Mother's day is every day for me now.

Mom, please continue to guide me through this time with your light and God keep your hand on my shoulder to let me know you're there taking care of your sweetest angel.

hair in my hash browns

I've been pretty good about staying home and eating everything in the house to keep from going to get something let alone going to a McDonalds- Well, I wanted a McGriddle today and the urge was too much to ignore. Mcdonalds on the South Freeway at Felix was easy to get to and I ordered a hash brown w/the McGriddle. I used gloves to pay and received the bag and to transfer the "fiood," from the paper it was in, to a plate.

 As I took a bite ofo the hash brown I could feel what felt like a hair IN MY MOUTH and I pulled it out of the hashbrown still in my mouth that I immediately spit in the trash- So worrying about my hands and the hands of others is one thing, ending up with someone's hair in my mouth is quite another even if there wasn't a deadly plague wrecking the world.

The moral of this nightmare is that no matter the precautions you will take or not take, it is the actions and inactions of others you have to be concerned with and have no control over. 

my gift to women everywhere

I alternate between one old pair of work boots and one or two pairs of tennis shoes. But I have dozens of pairs of shoes. Between washings, I wear maybe 2 or 3 pairs of jeans a week and I would estimate conservatively that I have 3 to 4 dozen pairs of jeans stacked up on shelves in the closet. Some fit, some never did, and a lot never will again. My guess is I have 3 or 4 dozen shirts maybe more. Some will button up over my stomach but a lot of them I can hear threads screaming mercilessly as I hold in my breath trying to get them on. I used to wear these shirts to work but now there is no work and as far as I can tell from where I sit, there may never be again. I could have retired a couple of years ago if I had wanted but now I just want it to be me in charge of the choice and not some new world order. I guess it doesn't matter the result is the same.

I have drawers stuffed with socks and underpants some without holes. When I bought this house it stayed empty for over a year because I just couldn't see myself living in a 3 bedroom when all I needed was one. There is a fancy dining room table and chairs that I paid an embarrassing amount of money for that served as a catch-all for cameras and gear I used to come in from work with but no longer do. I've eaten at that fancy table one time in the 20 plus years I've been in this house. At the same time I got the dining room set I also got this really fancy set of bedroom furniture for the master bedroom that looks really nice and functions as a place to put things on top of so I won't forget what I have or where i put it so I don't order more of them in some late night binge of illogical depression. That's why I have so much crap. 

Since mom passed away I have 2 houses fully furnished and more or less I live in 2 rooms of one of them. While I was working I felt like I had to have all the latest technology for all my gear so I have 5 or 6 still cameras with a half dozen lenses, half dozen $600 dollar flash attachments, triggers, strobes and so on. 4 video cameras HD, 4K, and older ones, and today I don't use any of it so they sit and gather dust.

To say that I am drowning in things is an offensive understatement. My personality and extreme lack of patience don't allow me to haggle or negotiate with people so trying to sell things is out of the question. In the past when I've tried to sell things I end up suggesting to potential interested parties with too many questions to go do things to themselves that would be physically impossible.

My dream goal is to liquidate just about everything I own and move off to a few hundred acres in the middle of America (or some other country) and live out the rest of the time God intends me to be here. I'll do it alone so as not to punish some poor unsuspecting woman who thinks maybe I've grown up and matured with my age. Ha! To women everywhere who are at this moment fixing their hair and makeup and painting on pants 3 sizes too small just to get a sexy photo for Instagram, my gift to you is to look at you but then leave you the hell alone to find your own misery without my involvement. #YoureWelcome 

A "stuff" broker is what I need. Someone to get between me and a buyer for a ton of this stuff and then purge like there was no tomorrow which is entirely possible. Gathering and dragging around all the mounds of crap we accumulate over a lifetime has come to an end with me. What we actually need in comparison to what we collect is a fairly disturbing view of our mental health status when you step back and take it all in. 

All I need is a few chickens, a couple pet cows, a dog, a cabin, my guns, and some acreage between me and other humans and not necessarily to protect me, but to protect them.