Yesterday, I turned 53.  Wow.  I can hardly believe it.

3 years ago, I started this journal.  I wanted a place to put down my thoughts and philosophies.  Life's observations.  After reaching my Croning.  I had the whole rest of my life laid out before me.  It was all planned.  In 15 years, I would retire.  My Eternal SoulMate would still have another 15 years before retirement age.  We were going to take my retirement fund (small as it would be, since I didn't get to start working on it until just a couple years before) and buy a little cabin in the North Caroline mountains, where he would contine to work, and write, until he retired.  I would be the 'stay-at-home' wife.  It was a very nice dream

2 years ago, that dream was taken from me.  He 'had' to leave.  He 'had' to 'follow his dream'.  He said he would always love me.  That I would alway hold a very special place in his heart.  That someday, we would be together again. 

1 year ago, I was in a depression so deep, still, from his leaving, that I was seein no hope.  Oh.  I put on the face.  Kept up the act.  But, every day, I was dying more inside. I missed him so.  He remembered my birthday.  Started a thread on the GEFP board wishing me a happy birthday.  He still said that that he would always 'be there' for me.

This year, he forgot.  When I mentioned to him that I had met the girls for lunch  the day before, for my BD, he IMed back "And a great big Happy Birthday from me, too!".  A thread was started on the board.  He never posted in it, although he did post in another thread for somebody else.

It's like he wants everybody to forget that he and I were once together.  Like he's trying to wipe me out of his 'public' life.  We IM.  He still calls (sometimes) on Saturday Mornings.  (If he's alone).  I've become his 'dirty little secret'.

I guess I just don't have enough to offer anymore.  I've become the chicken bones and veggies when making stock.  Given all they have, all used up, thrown out in the trash.

How's that for melodramatic?

But, there is a bright side this year.  This year, I have hope.  This year, I have....  happiness?  Contentment?.  Dare I say, this year, I have refound Love. 

Not quite the same.  Nothing ever will be.  But, rather fulfilling none-the-less. 

Phrogg started celebrating my Birthday  last week.  Thursday, after a trip to his orthopedist, who declared his foot "Almost completely healed", we stopped by Jeanne's Rock and Jewelry.  There he got me an amythest bracelet and pair of earings to go with the necklace that my SiS, Quizzy, sent me a few months ago.  He also got me a little amythest bowl that I'm going to use for ritual.  A box with a  Picture Sandstone in the lid.  And,a ROCK POLISHER! 

After a trip to Wally's World for some containers for grit, etc., he set me up an area in the garage.  I have a couple of barrels tumbling now.

Sunday, we met my girls, Phrogg's daughter and another couple at Buca Di Beppo's for lunch.  2 ½ hours, 2 bottles of Asti Spumonti, and LOTS of food and conversation later, we left, sated and glowing for the company of people we love.

At work, the next day, my REAL birthday, the whole Data Services Group (My department, EDC and the DMs) all got together and we had lunch, complete with a TRES LECHE CAKE!!!  That evening, Phrogg took me to dinner at Denny's (No cooking for me that day) where he introduced me to the guilty pleasure of an egg creme.  (Whirl a whole egg into a milkshake.  Trust me.  It's GOOD)

At the Sunday Lunch, I found that Caydence had cut her first tooth! 

All in all, a very good Birthday. 

Now, if the pain would just go away.  Will it ever? 

The new school year is starting.  Working at a University, I'm WELL aware of that!

I was reminising about my high school days.  I went to Hampton High in Pennsylvania.  I also attended A. W. Beattie during my Junior and Senior years.  (Then it was called Beattie Tech, now it's "Career Center")  This is a school where area Juniors and Seniors can attend for half the school day, learning a trade.  The other half day is spent at their home school.

I took "Computer Programming/Data Processing" (now called "Computer/Network Engineering Technology").  Anyway, I decided to click on the 'contact us' button and write to Beattie Tech and let them know how much I appreciated the education I recieved there.

Imagine my delight and surprise when I received the following e-mail a few days later:

"Hello Linda, Mr. Crum here.

Although he got a few of the details a little off.  (Never did work at Aulds, tho my brother did.  And i'm only close to 53, dagnabit!) he remembered me!!! 

Started out as a simple desire to express appreciation, and ended up getting a warm fuzzy in return.

You ought to try it.

Wow.  In one week, I'll be 53.

3 years since I started this journal/blog.  The year Scott arranged a surprise party for me, inviting our friends and my co-workers.

A lot has happened since then.  The next year, he was gone.  Last year, I was in such a depression, still, that I saw no hope, no light.   Yea, I put on a good face, sorta.  But you know what they say about the tears of the clown...

Today would have been the Phrog's 43rd wedding anniversary.  Yesterday was the 2nd anniversary of his wife's passing.  We spendt the weekend going though his 'treasure chest' of memories.  It was an emotional time.  He remembered her, the things they did, the times they had.  He put some of her stuff in another box for the girls to go through.  Some things he kept for himself. 

Made me think.  I feel it's about time that I have a "Garage Sale of the Soul"  there are things that I have that maybe I need to let go of.  If I'm going to finish healing. 

Phrog's eldest daughter wrote a song, "Yard Sale" that I've been listening to.  Changing some of the words, of course, to suit my own situation.  Here's my version:

Everything Must Go.

Follow the signs
along the street
To memories
laid out on sheets

Hands in Wax
Cast at the Fair
Memory of
Anniversary there

I know it's true
But it's hard to do
Everything must go

15 years
Of greeting cards
A pair of kites
To reach the stars

A poem he wrote
I know each line
A broken clock
We ran out of time

Friends tell me
I've got to see
Everything must go

A pretty stone
Shaped like a heart
Found on the day
True Love did start

Rings that bound
Our souls in trust
Promises
That's turned to dust

I know it well
If I'm to Heal
Everything must go

Only glass
in the photo frames
The faces there
have turned away

I know it's true
But it's hard to do
Everything must go

Every thing must go...

So, there I was at Chili's with MotherDaughter and Baby. Little bit got fussy, needed a change, so I took her to the Ladies to do the deed.

When we were finished, and I picked her up, a lady washing her hands turned and said, "What a cute baby! She looks just like her mama!".

I beamed.

Said, "Thank you, but.... I'm her Grandma!"

She said "Really? wow! You don't look it"

Made my day...

This is not the first time something like this has happened. 

A few weeks ago, when I came home from work, one of the neighbors was pulling in at the same time.  We chatted for a few minutes, then he asked "How's your father doing".  He had mistaken me for Phrog's daughter!  I was tickled.  Phrog was amused.  I think daughter was less than amused...

Years ago, when Psycho-ex-husband and I were separated, Mongo-man and I were having our mid-week visit with the kids.  Psycho-ex-husband and his new Victim decided that we would ALL go to KFC.  Cashier asked me if he and she were my parents!  (I said "Yes" and spend the rest of the evening calling him 'Daddy'.  Really hacked his 'lady' off.  She's 8 years younger than me...

Then, last  year, Mongo-man posted this on the board:

"So there we were at We Be Babies, spending some gift card loot from the grandfolks, and Quinn got fussy. He and I were doing Dancing Baby (I have such awesome rhythm, truly) and I got to chatting with a mother-daughter pair checking out the clearance racks. They were looking at sizes, and I warned them that they could be wildly inaccurate. As proof, I showed them Quinn in his 3-6 month size sailor suit (no, not a traditional white one ... blue with sailboats embroidered) and how it BARELY fit him.

I said "It's a shame, too, because his grampa is a sailor."

The mother said "Oh, were you in the Navy?"

I wanted to die. "

Now, THAT's Karma!!!

After a week of the Creeping Crud and a weekend of the Not-Yet-Creeping baby, Gus, (who we refer to as the Phrog) and I decided to take in a movie. 

On the way to the theatre, we passed a couple of Chinese restaurants that we've never tried before.  Phrog commented that we will have to try them out at some point.

Which got me to thinking....

Which point?  West Point?  KingsPoint?  At some point in time?  What's the point?  Case in point, to point the way, one needs a point of reference.  Get to the point.  Point it out.  The point of the matter is, point to point, that's not the point.

After a while I realized that "point" is a FUN word to say. 

Point.   point.    point point point!!!

It sounds like something a cartoon character would say. 

POINT!!

Then, I started to wonder.  At what point did that noise.  That sound.  Point.  Come to mean something?  In our language.  To us.  We have a point.

While others are pointless.

And, that's my point.