It has occurred to me that I have not spoken about losing people in my life. I spoke about losing items, I spoke about the Old Horse being away, but I have not spoken about the loss of my sisters or parents. I think that’s odd, since the impact of their leaving this earth was and is difficult to accept. Now and then I find myself tearing up and realize how much I miss them; and yet, it seems so much easier to not dwell on their loss than it is to dwell on how much I miss the Old Horse, who is still alive but not with me. I wonder about emotions. My emotions don’t seem to match up with my inner self. I only lost my sister, Cyndi, a few months ago. I was forced to be strong, as though my mother told me to be. “Take care of the situation, Myra.” “Be solid. Make decisions.” And I did; but I lost any softness within me. I have had that same thing happen many times. When a favorite cat was killed on the day my youngest son went to war, and I had to hold in emotions to spare my husband pain; when Debra was my responsibility in life and death; when Chuck had a near death experience and decisions had to be made; when my children experienced painful life situations. Always be strong. Hold things together. Be “cold” and endure keeping my heart within. Can I say I resent this? Absolutely not. It’s actually much easier to be in control than to allow emotions to overflow. Of course, this is me, the woman who cries when she says goodbye to her children when they depart to their own homes. Who cries when she sees an animal in crisis. Who cries when she thinks of the Old Horse. Who cries when she watches a sad movie. Emotions abruptly appear, and just as quickly close off. Perhaps this is what being human is. Handling life as it appears.
Published by mjm1942
I have aged. Of course. I was born in Trenton, NJ in 1942. I now live in Kentucky. It's 2019. My marriage has lasted 56 years, and I still love the man. My three children live far from us, and we do miss them; however, it's fine with just he and me. We are best friends. I love my dogs and my horses. I have failed as a writer (dreams died long ago), but I still dabble now and then. I have always been restless; perhaps because I have moved so many times in my life. I feel like something is waiting to happen around the corner. I graduated from Salem College at 55 years of age. I am a woman. View more posts