Terry's 3M's

I tried new html addresses for these pages, but, it didn't work out. I thought that if I just started from 1 and worked my way up, I could keep track of how many entries I write during a year, the time the journal lasts online, etc. But, the problem with that way of numbering was once I had the page up, I forgot the date of the last entry.

Oh, well. Some things you try work. Some don't. The only way to know for sure I guess is to experiment.

I thought I was going to have some time this morning to write. However, the kids have gotten up. Their conversation this morning seems rather odd considering the ages of the children. The 8 year old (my son) and the 9 year old (my niece) are talking about how grandpa died. Their grandpa died at the ripe age of 83 from a heart attack. It was his fourth heart attack, but, the other three were mild and happened 28 years before the last one. I'm not quite sure how Stephanie perceives pain, but, she remarked that that was a long time to suffer. I assured her that he did not spend those 28 years suffering.

I think that Pa was ready to leave this world though. He had spent the last year of his life doing everything wrong as far as his diet was concerned. I can remember Ma yelling at him because he was putting salt on ham! He ate bacon and fried potatoes for breakfast and other foods that were really bad for anyone who had already had heart attacks. But, maybe he just felt that his time was closing in on him and he wanted to get pleasure from whatever he could.

His eyes started going a few years before and he could no longer enjoy the westerns that he loved to read so much. Two eye operations didn't improve his eyesight at all. He had to give up driving. And when he could no longer see enough to enjoy television, it seemed like he gave up on living.

I'm still surprised at the kids fascination with his death even though I probably shouldn't be. On occasion, Johnny tells me that he can't get to sleep because he has "bad thinking". This usually concerns his fears of my demise.

He had "bad thinking" about a week ago. He was quite sure that now that I had a bicycle, it would end up killing me. I assured him that the bicycle would provide me with exercise (which I need badly) that would probably strengthen my heart and allow me to live longer.

I think that his fears sometimes revolve around the fact that there is no one he knows that he would rather raise him instead of me. He doesn't want to live with his dad and he would just be the youngest of the kids and be bossed around by his cousins (who are more like siblings to him than cousins) if Faye and Delton raised him.

I am his anchor and he is scared of losing me. I have done everything I can to reassure him. Especially pointing out that we come from a family that is long lived on each side. My parents are still living. His great-grandfather lived until the age of 91. And my great-grandmother (who was twice my size!) died of pneumonia at the age of 86. I think that I'll still be around while he's growing up!