“They” say everyone has a story to tell. I’m not so sure that my story would be very interesting to anyone. Here is my attempt to tell “My Story”. Hopefully it won’t be too boring and maybe it will help someone along the way.
I live in Covington County Alabama outside a small town called Andalusia. It is in the southern part of the state about 20 – 25 miles from the AL/FL state line. I love living in the country. Even though we have neighbors, it is very quiet most of the time. Andalusia doesn’t have much going for it in the way of shopping or entertainment or jobs. It’s a quaint little town but we have to go elsewhere for shopping and entertainment and work, unless you are one of the lucky ones that get a decent job in Andalusia.
Today is October 21, 2009. It’s a Wednesday this year. The weather couldn’t be any better for October. Last Thursday, October 15, I turned 50 years old. Is it a milestone? Maybe. To some I’m sure it would be. The living is hard for a lot of people and to make it to 50 years of age would be a tremendous accomplishment. For me, it was just another day. I got birthday wishes from friends and family…no big surprise there. I did not, however, get a big 50 birthday bash and that’s OK. My husband is not one to do such things, I guess, and my children did not attempt it. He did take me out to eat, but that was all. We go out to eat quite often so it isn’t the treat it used to be. The best thing about that is that I don’t have to cook or clean up. I hate doing both of those.
I got a card from my youngest son, Buck, and his wife. I got a bouquet of flowers from my daughter, Elaine. I got a “facebook” birthday wish from my oldest son, Ryan, and a card that my grandson Hayden, Ryan’s son, made for me with some pictures of the family inside. These were all very nice. I really appreciate them. Even my 2½ year old grandson, Ethan, wished me a happy birthday. But somehow, something seems missing…and I can’t explain what it is. It is nothing that anyone has said or done. It may be my “midlife crisis” and I don’t know what to do about it.
Yesterday I went to a funeral of a 20 year old man, Tyler Friedman. He was the son of my second cousin, Lynn Friedman (Eiland). He died unexpectedly and it’s a mystery to me. It wasn’t an accident or a murder and he wasn’t involved in drugs or alcohol. I’m not real sure that anyone knows how he died. There was an autopsy and I suppose no one has heard anything about the possible cause of death yet. He had so much going for him. Unfortunately, that is usually the one that dies so young. To add to the sadness of this death, my cousin lost a brother by drowning. She is my age and we were very young when this happened. I don’t remember him at all. I have just seen pictures and heard the story. She has suffered much loss in her life. I don’t know how she handles it. I know that “life goes on” and that seems so unfair sometimes. How do you keep on going when your baby just died?
I guess I'll stop here for now so this post won't be too long. I'll post again with more thoughts and more of "My Story".