I got a bit angry last night…

Steve called at about 5:30 to give me bad news. He was stranded again. The truck had given out for the 14th time I think. I listened to him tell me where he was, how lucky he’d been to have recognized what was happening, and how he’d gotten onto a side street before the power gave out completely. He was just letting me know before he called the tow truck. I told him how sorry I was AGAIN, how I wished I could help, and asked him to let me know when he was home and safe.

An hour later he called me. The tow truck driver had let him off on a cross street and he’d walked home. He’s getting to be very friendly with this young man who comes so often. I listened to hubby complain about how incompetent the mechanic has become and how he doesn’t understand why he can’t fix the truck completely. He then moved on to how depressed and alone he is and how he just wants to get it all over with and die. I almost screamed at him I got so mad. I’m so tired of hearing how he wants to die. He scared me a bit ago with that talk and then almost 3 days of ignoring my calls – I called his brother to check on him because I didn’t know if he was ok or not. I told him to stop it. He had a full night sleep ahead which his body needed – a new morning was coming with new chances of things going right and a new slate to do his best on. If he died G and I would still need to situate the cats and get the household items and worry with settling things in GA AND we’d have the sad example of a suicide for yet another generation of Paschal’s. I told him I’m sick of hearing how he wants to die. Honestly I understand. But if he doesn’t start PUSHING forward instead of waiting while things happen to him, I don’t know how he’ll ever get here.

I KNOW this hasn’t worked out how we planned but it’s no one’s fault. It’s just time and chance. We could have chosen several things to do with the disability money and we decided to move from an increasingly bad area – to buy a house and rid ourselves of house payments. We thought we could rent the GA house for income to add to my disability and his pension, and have enough to make it. We also chose North Carolina; even Rocky Mount. We chose it together whether he likes to admit it or not. I really want to shake him. Maybe he won’t get the best deal on a car since he’s choosing one while stranded in the living room – but his brother has said he’ll help him get another. Problem is, it’s gonna take time and he’s stranded AGAIN. Don will probably help him catch the house payments up too which Steve will wait till the last second to ask for. His pride is a tiring burden for me to help him bear. I  need him to lay it down. He’s either got to lay it down, or he will loose everything.

Sometimes I wonder if he’s going to give up and not come here. His new “understanding” is that it will be in the new year before he can get here. Well it’s not MY understanding. I’m going to figure out how to rent a van and get what I can and at least my inside kitties. I need a lawn mower and hedge trimmer and my big glazed pots and my boxes of books and my kitchen chairs. I want my husband here. How many ways can I say it? His stress is not just his. I am trying my best not to complain. If he doesn’t ask for help, he’ll have to come here with nothing. I can live with that. I hope he can too. I WANT him to get through this. I want us to be important enough to him that he will do whatever it takes to succeed.

And there’s the gramma voice – want in one hand, spit in the other and see which gets filled the fasted. Yep, it’s another day.

I called him this morning to check in and he fought crying. He’s in such a bad place, shame on me for getting mad at him. He’s stuck – literally. He doesn’t have a car. He doesn’t have a physical ride to any place. He’s 60 f-ing yrs old and hurting. He’s not got a fridge. He can’t work without the car and he’s flat broke. And here I am wanting to include him in our lives when his own is all he can manage. Just shit. Smile on, right? It will get better, right? I fucking miss him and he can’t even talk to me.

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About Green Jean Granny

I believe in and practice positive living with a bit of a barb it seems. I love YARN, music, reading, history, and gemstones. I am passionate about the Earth. I am a true homebody. I've said I was Pagan for years to separate myself from a churchy upbringing and judgmental family that left me outside of its beliefs. I believe it's our responsibility to tend and protect the Earth. I basically do my thing in a (not so) quiet, amused way. I believe in the power of my own hands, the energy of combined prayer, and caring for the earth. I attend a nondenominational Christian Church. I have 6 kids, all home-born and successfully breastfed. The oldest 5 are grown. The youngest is attending Community College and living at home. I'm the oldest of 9, daughter of a missionary mother who lives in The Republic of Congo, married to the son of a preacher, with 3 spoiled dogs and and an add on (my daughter's pit bull lives here for a bit while she hikes the Appalachian Trail. Right now, there is small balance after yrs of unemployment. My disability was approved due to degenerative disc disease and fibromyalgia. I believe we owe it to ourselves to protect our mental health. It's precious and the one thing we can control. I dislike my own housework and I talk too much. I bought a house in North Carolina and after trying to get my husband here for 6 months, he had a stroke. I'm a two-time caregiver. Steve's got hemiparesis and diabetes and is learning to walk and trying to use his right side again. It's slow going. Our 10 kitties were rehomed by rescue after his stroke.
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