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my4bears · 6 months
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WIDOW DIARIES- 23
Another Year
It is November and I have reached the end of my second year as a widow. This one was filled with more new experiences, but I am coping and trying to find purpose. I took a cruise to Alaska with my little sister and my daughter's family. It was beautiful and fun. Cliff and I had wanted to do that together, but it was sweet spending that time with Mitzi and I was so glad we had that time.
I also spent a little over a month in Louisiana trying to help my mother through her cancer treatments. They were brutal, but she made it through them and at this time is cancer-free! Praise God! When I got back home, I was so happy to hug my grandchildren and my kids. I missed them terribly.
This year I have tried to focus on doing some of the things I had set aside while I was working. I still have my podcast and it is going well. I have almost 3,500 subscribers from all over the world! So cool. I also have done some sewing and crocheted several items for Christmas presents. I wrote a children's story about "When the Cousins Come" that I published on Canva and will (shhhhh) be surprising my grandchildren with on Christmas.
Holidays and anniversaries are hard still. The world around us is disintegrating rapidly. There is war in Israel which I believe is the precursor to the Ezekiel prophecy. Soon, very soon, I think we will be hearing the trumpet and finally going home. I hope so. What I see going on around me, and what I believe is about to happen, scares me badly. Our only hope is for God to intervene. My hope rests in Him.
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my4bears · 8 months
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WIDOW DIARIES- 22
Part Two
This year has been tough. I think the first year after Cliff died, I was still so numb from the shock that I was able to do things on automatic pilot. This year I feel the sting of his absence keenly. I have stayed busy with my murder and mayhem podcast to keep my brain functioning, go to see my grandbabies in their activities, and try to maintain something of a social life, but I feel the emptiness and wonder if it will ever ease.
To make matters worse, my mother was diagnosed with cancer and has been undergoing chemo and proton treatments. She is in the hardest part of it right now and watching her struggle with the side effects is agonizing. At 88, she is still so vital and independent. Seeing her hurting and vulnerable breaks my heart. And I can't help but question why God would send me through another battle so soon after the last one. I am staying in Louisiana with her to help my sister take her to the appointments and to do whatever I can for her, but it seems I cannot do anything to ease the burden.
I am clinging to the hope that God will bring us through all of this gracefully. We've met some wonderful people at the cancer center and have formed a special bond with them. We will likely never see one another again when this is over, but I am grateful for the encouragement we are able to give one another.
Please keep us in your prayers.
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my4bears · 1 year
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WIDOW DIARIES - 21
Swaying to the Music -
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I have never been a dancer. All of my rhythm is in my head and doesn't translate to my limbs. Cliff, however, was a great dancer and he really loved being on the dance floor. Being children of the 60s and 70s, we grew up with the best music! Even though I rarely embarrassed myself dancing to fast music, I could, and did, dance the slow ones wrapped in his arms. Oh, how I loved those moments.
Last week, I had a doctor's appointment and my physician asked how I was getting along now. I told him I thought I was coping much better. I don't melt into puddles quite as often as I did. That was probably why the rest of the story caught me so off guard.
On Saturday, I went with my son's family to watch my grandson play flag football. Afterward, we went to eat a hamburger at a restaurant where music from my era was playing. One song, in particular, came on that was one of those old standard slow songs that my generation always danced to--like "Stairway to Heaven". If it played, you danced. I couldn't remember the name of the song, or the name of the artist. I asked Danny if he knew, but he didn't. I remarked that Cliff would know, and in that moment, I missed him so much. I find times like that are when I miss him most. He just knew so many things, and now I can't ask him. For some reason, it bugged me that I couldn't call the name of the song to my head, but I did remember it had a weird name like Shades of Blue or something. So, being who I am, I went home and started googling all the keywords that might bring up the song. I finally found it "Whiter Shade of Pale" and made the mistake of playing it. Suddenly, I was transported onto the dance floor wrapped in Cliff's arms, so safe, and happy. We were singing along to the song as we swayed. I could see his eyes squeezed shut, head tilted back as he sang. And I sobbed.
I am so grateful I had the years of memories to sustain me now. It is so amazing the things that bring back moments of my journey with him. I was so blessed. I knew it before I lost him. I knew our relationship was unusual and that not everyone has one like it. I hope when I see him again, we are able to dance.
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my4bears · 1 year
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WIDOW DIARIES- 20
One More First-
I really thought I was done with all "first-time" things since losing Cliff. I had already experienced Thanksgiving and Christmas right after his death, so this year those holidays didn't tear at my heart the same way they did the "first time." But I forgot to factor in that today is the final day of the first year without Cliff. Everything I have done this year has been this new reality. I am not sobbing the day away like I did last year. I have spent the day trying to put my house back together after my valiant effort to make this Christmas joyful (since I have very little memory of last Christmas--apparently I was still in shock). I have taken a break in my reconstruction task to reflect on this year.
It was a doozy for sure. I have changed absolutely everything about myself and my surroundings. It wasn't because I wanted that change, but because I had to change it in order to not feel the absence so keenly. In my life, there have been so many resets. The biggest one before this one was when Cliff lost his job at Enron and our entire lives began unraveling. I went back to work, and remember being so angry that my "real life" was gone. Of course, as all the events unfolded, God worked out the details to bring joy where there was sorrow. I have repeated this pattern over and over and believe I have finally learned to rest in the knowledge that this, too, will be okay.
I have no idea what 2023 will bring. I really, really hope it is not filled with the chaos this first year has brought. I simply pray that it will be a season of rest and healing. Whatever it is, I know I do not need to fear it. And for all of you who have taken this widow's journey with me, I pray God's richest blessings for you and your loved ones.
Happy New Year!
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my4bears · 1 year
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WIDOW DIARIES- 19
The Empty Chair
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Another December has come. Last year, I could not bring myself to do much for Christmas except exist. In fact, I have only a blur in my memory of last Christmas. Most of it I cannot remember because I was so numb. This year, I was determined that I would make my home as festive as possible.
So when I retired, I began making gnomes and garlands. I decorated my house inside and out, and planned projects to make for gifts, etc. Of course, I ended up with the flu and have had to scale back my expectations. (It is apparently a theme with me that will be repeated.) I know that I cannot slide by the sting of what is missing by filling that space with substitutions, but I know it is my nature to try. No matter what I do, Cliff is not here. His absence is a roaring vortex that is always threatening to swallow me. And just when I feel it pulling me under, something will happen to remind me that this gulf that separates us is only temporary.
Yesterday, Lori and I went to the grocery store together to pick up a few things. We put everything into the same buggy (that is "cart" up here in Yankee country), and went to check out. We got into a conversation with the lady checking us out and she mentioned that she had lost her mother this year and how hard the season was for her. Lori told her we had also suffered a great loss, and she questioned, "How do you survive it?" My answer is always that my faith is the only thing that makes it bearable. She remarked, "Yes, she has been praying a lot" to which Lori said, "Then we will pray for you this season." I asked her name. It was Margaret. She seemed so shocked and awed that two strangers would be praying for her. She came around the counter when she finished ringing us up, asked for our names and for Cliff's name, then hugged us both. I had gone into the store with a heavy heart and came out feeling joyful. Lori and I laughed about how making friends with the cashier was such a "Cliff-like" thing to do.
I will be praying for Margaret this season. I will also be praying for others in my circle of friends who have losses, sicknesses, financial struggles, etc. It makes me feel closer to Jesus which makes me feel closer to Cliff when I offer that part of myself on behalf of others. Here is the secret: the more we concentrate on lifting others, the nearer to heaven we find ourselves. And, after all, isn't that what the Christmas Season is really all about? Wasn't the whole point to bridge that gap between God and Man?
Maybe that "empty chair" isn't quite as empty as I thought.
Merry Christmas!
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my4bears · 1 year
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Widow Diaries - 18
Chapters and Changes
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The final podcast episode has been written, recorded, and uploaded. It waits in the queue for the premiere. My final creative effort after 17 years of the dream job is done. On Thursday, November 17, 2022, I will shut off the computer screens, turn off the light, and walk out of the staff door one final time. This was my choice, but that doesn't make it easy. Becoming a widow has changed everything. The air is different: I breathe differently, and my heart beats differently. I found that I think differently, too.
There have been so many changes; new chapters; new experiences, in my life since Cliff left this earthly plain. I found that I was only existing. I can do that. I have continued to function throughout the first year of widowhood. I bought a house, sold a house, sold a car, bought a van, started a podcast, ended a podcast, and then I gave notice I am retiring. As of Thursday, I will be done. I will start another chapter. And my hope is that I will find new purpose and new joy.
But before I do that, I want to go back and acknowledge the last one. When I found the job at the genealogy department, it was the middle of the night and something told me to look online for library jobs. I couldn't believe it when I saw an opening in the genealogy department for a library not too far from me. I told myself that I wouldn't be disappointed if I didn't get it, but the moment I walked into that library I WANTED it. When Cindy and Chris interviewed me, I remember just a few of the questions they asked. Chris wanted to know if I really understood genealogy research and asked questions that I was able to answer easily. Cindy asked me if she could talk to my former co-workers and ask what it was like to work with me, what would they say? I told her I didn't know the answer, but I did know that they cried when I left. I figured that meant I was pretty fun to work with. Now I am the one crying.
I have been at Jefferson County Library long enough to see so many people come and go. I've seen high schoolers and college students graduate. I've seen weddings, babies, heartaches, divorces, deaths, and so much life. I've had a few that were there when I started who are still there and I consider them precious friends. I have some who have left or retired and I still follow their lives. They are also dear to me.
When I was 17 years old, my Aunt Dot called me to fill in as summer reading club leader at Bossier Parish Library because the person they hired didn't show up. She taught me how to tell stories in a weekend. I am still telling stories today. I learned how to process and protect archives by working in the history center many years later under the direction of Nita Cole, a real archivist. I took the skills she taught me and brought them to this job. Chris built up the genealogy collection and I built up the archival collection. I researched the local history and recorded it. I began an index of the historical newspapers on microfilm and increased its usage prior to newspapers.com digitizing project. When Chris retired and offered the head of the department to me, I was scared to death. This was supposed to be just a part time job, but I put my head against the rock and pushed on.
I asked for, and received permission, to put our collection on archival software that is now giving access to collections we have that the general public wasn't even aware of before. I presented some pretty interesting programs such as the Living History events and local music concerts before Covid shut us down. I worked one on one with our patrons trying to help them trace their families, their birth parents, and the history of their homes and communities, and I taught my employees to always put the patron first. We always laughed a lot in the genealogy cave!
There were dreams I had that I will not see through. I wanted a bigger area so we could have a large circulating genealogy collection. I wanted to have a lab where people could digitize their personal collections. I dreamed of a classroom where we could offer regular classes. I really wanted a nice display area where we could have a mini museum to display our local collection. These dreams will have to be realized by those who come after me. I loved my job. I loved my co-workers.
But now I want to take a breath, have a chance to mourn the loss of Cliff and be able to move forward. I need to make new friends and be rested enough to have a life outside of work. Please pray for me as I embark on this new chapter. This is the last scrap of "normal" I am going to release in one year. Whatever is before me, I hope...
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES- 17
Forty-one and One
Today would have been forty-one years; but, for me, it was one. The first wedding anniversary without the love of my life. Nothing in my life feels right. Nothing will fill the void that greets me each morning when I open my eyes, the empty place beside me in the bed at night, the silence that is so loud when I watch something I think you would have enjoyed. There is nothing to prepare you for this first year. And in a few weeks, it will be a full year without you.
I have done my best to keep going. I have tried to keep smiling, keep going, keep seeking my purpose. But, I will be truthful. I hate it. I just want you. Surely God knows and is going to get me through it, but today--this day--I will not apologize for the tears. You will forever be my "Always."
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES -16
...AND MINDY
This was another roller coaster week. Just after signing the papers to sell the house I made a trip to Louisiana to unwind and make some decisions about my future. It is interesting to discover all of the stages of grieving. In the beginning, I was just so relieved that Cliff's suffering was over, that the strain of watching him die was done, and the joy of knowing in my deepest self that he was in heaven where I will see him again some day. Next was the exhaustion and pain of clearing out the life we'd made together, packing up and selling or throwing away "things" we'd accumulated as a couple for more than 40 years. I sold the house, bought a condo, bought a car, had eye surgery, and tried to maintain some sort of balance of work and life.
Now that the dust has cleared from those things, I find myself trying to figure out what is next. As this new version of grief consumes me, I have to decide who "Mindy" is now. My daughter pointed out that I had identified myself as "...and Mindy" for so long, I am lost knowing who I am without the other part --Cliff. I had a healthy self worth before, but I realize now that it was because I knew there was the first part of the equation (Cliff, Gran, Kids, etc.) that gave me the courage to shine. Now I am unable to look into the future and see what's next. It is scary. I'm not alone. I have the assurance of God's guidance, my family, and my friends to strengthen me, but I have no idea who I am anymore. Unless you've been here, you cannot begin to know what this feels like. This is the transition time between my life before and what it will become. I have to figure out what that is while trying to let go and yet hold on at the same time. How do you do that?
There are going to be major changes in the coming months. I need and appreciate the continued prayers as I seek this path.
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES -15
REMINISCING
Cliff and I started dating in 1978, although we'd known one another since 9th grade. It was an unlikely relationship. He was a sports jock and I was a shy, unremarkable girl who only dated cowboys and guys in the FFA (Future Farmers of America for you city folks). Cliff was neither. But he came along at a time I was in need of a friend. And that is what he was to me. His parents owned the lake marina that was next to my parents' lake house on Lake Bistineau. Every evening after school we'd sit outside at the marina on a bench between two trees and talk.
It was our Senior year, and he had already asked another girl to Prom. He did not kiss me for the first time until the day after the prom so that he wouldn't be unfair to her or to me. Being raised to believe a good girl does not initiate the first kiss, it was several agonizing weeks before that special kiss. It made me fall in love with him to know he had that kind of honor.
Between the marina and my house was a fence with a gate that he would walk me to whenever it was time for me to go home. It was a special spot where he'd kiss me goodnight and I'd watch him walk away, back to his cabin where he and another friend lived. That year, the Little River Band came out with a song called "Reminiscing" that I loved. Some of the lyrics were:
"Friday night, it was late, I was walking you home, we got down to the gate and I was dreaming of the night. Would it turn out right?
How to tell you, girl, I want to build my world around you. Tell you that its true. I wanna make you understand I'm talking about a lifetime plan."
It goes on to say:
"Hurry, don't be late. I can hardly wait. I said to myself when we're old,
We'll go dancing in the dark, walking through the park and reminiscing."
Today I was on hold trying to make a doctor's appointment and that song started playing. And yes, it made me cry. Most everything does. I think the hardest part of losing Cliff is the loss of those wonderful days of talking about all of our lifetime memories together. There will never be anyone else who will just "know" what I am thinking. Or understand why I laugh or cry at a sound, a smell, a moment.
The loss of my soulmate is shocking and painful. I don't even know who I am any more. I can't believe how the time has flown and how many things I have done in that time. I did them, but I hated every moment of it. I longed for his presence beside me.
"On the way back home, I promised you'd never be alone."
But I am. I told a close friend, another widow who truly understands, the one word I'd use to describe widowhood is "Lonely." It is the most isolated, lonely you can imagine. Where there was someone, there's no one. That isn't to say I haven't been completely surrounded by love and support. But it isn't the same.
This weekend will be the first Father's Day of my life that I neither have my own father or the father of my children. My children are out of town, and I am going to experience this alone. I'm strong enough. I do know that. I still have my Heavenly Father. And I can assure you I will be leaning very heavily on Him.
For those who have lost their own fathers or spouse, my heart is wrapped around you. For those who are blessed to still have your daddy, do not take it for granted. Hold them tight. Tell them how much you love them.
In the meantime, I'll be reminiscing.
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my4bears · 2 years
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SOME GAVE ALL
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Allen S. Powell in World War II By Mindy Powell Hudson on Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Note: The following is an excerpt from HOMEFOLKS, a booklet I wrote about my Allen/Powell family. This story details the death of my daddy's brother Allen S. Powell who served in World War II.
When World War II began in 1941, many changes took place. Jack and Nolan Allen [my grandmother Lizzie Allen Powell's brothers], and Lizzie's second son, Allen Powell, were among those sent overseas to fight. The whole country was reeling from the attack on Pearl Harbor. Lizzie, already torn from all the upheaval in her life, worried constantly over her son and brothers. Allen Powell was a good-looking man with sandy blonde hair and a winning smile. He sucked cough drops, smoothed Vick's salve on his chest, and smoked Kool cigarettes. He'd steal his mama's chickens to have money to party with, but he was fiercely protective of her.[1] Roston Powell, [eldest son] was married with a family of his own, and Merah and Doug [daughter and son] were still just kids, so much of the responsibility of caring for Lizzie fell to Allen.
After he was sent overseas, Allen wrote home faithfully. His letters were always upbeat and funny. He would ask about the family, give advice to his younger brother and sister, and scold his Mama for worrying. He always made it sound as though he was on vacation, even when he was in the thick of battle. In turn, the family didn't want him to know that Travis [my grandfather] had finally filed for divorce from Lizzie, but Allen sensed something was wrong.
Lizzie and Travis Powell were divorced in February 1945. Immediately after Allen discovered what his father had done, he changed the beneficiary on his life insurance policy from his father's to his mother's name. A month later, Allen was dead. The little bit of money from that policy helped Allen take care of his mother the rest of her life![2]
Allen was a Corporal in the U.S. Army, 152nd Infantry Regiment, 38th Infantry Division, 5th Army Corp known as the Cyclones. A brief history of the 38th Division follows:
The 38th Division was inducted into federal service at Indianapolis, Indiana on 17 January 1941, and moved to Camp Shelby, Mississippi 26 January 1941. They participated in V Corps Louisiana Maneuvers 16-27 June 41 and moved to Cooper, Louisiana 7 Aug 41...The Division returned to Camp Shelby 4 Oct 41...Left New Orleans port of embarkation by echelon on 31 Dec 43 and arrived completely in Hawaii by 21 Jan 44.[3] Allen was able to enjoy his brief stay in Hawaii. He sent a souvenir picture home to his family making it appear that he was having the time of his life! However, the fun and games was short-lived. His Division left Hawaii on July 11 and landed at Oro Bay, New Guinea two weeks later for training. From New Guinea, they arrived on Leyte Philippines in December 1944. By the end of 1941, the Allied situation in the Far East was deteriorating rapidly. The Allied troops were being compressed onto the Bataan Peninsula. Then began a “two-pronged offensive, with one prong directed toward northern New Guinea.. and the other up the chain of the Solomons.”[4]
MacArthur had been driven out of the Philippines at the beginning of the war, but had vowed to return victorious. By 1944 he had begun his campaign to keep that promise:
The invasion [of Leyte Island] would be followed by an assault on…Luzon, the large, northernmost Philippine island, on 20 February. The commander of the Japanese land forces had some 430,000 troops stationed all across the islands…The battle of Leyte Gulf in October saw most of the Japanese surface fleet destroyed with little to show for its sacrifice.
The primary objective of assaulting Leyte was to provide a staging area for a much larger effort, the assault against the island of Luzon where most of the Japanese land defenses lay. Mindoro was important…for its potential airfields. This location would provide a base for the amphibious invasion fleet and allow land-based American aircraft to intensify their attacks against the Japanese on Luzon. MacArthur assigned the seizure of Mindoro to Lt. Gen. Walter Krueger’s Sixth Army.”[5]
A battalion of the 152nd Infantry moved to Agojo Point on Samar under direct Sixth Army control. They were reassembled by January 4th, 1945 and landed in the San Narcisco area of Luzon on January 29 without opposition. The division commenced the drive to clear Highway 7, all three regiments participating in the fierce Battle of Zig Zag Pass 1-14 Feb 45. The division pushed down the east coast road to Pilar and across the peninsula to Bagac, securing most of Bataan Peninsula by 21 Feb 45.[6] The invasion of Mindoro began on December 15. Tensions were high due to the kamikaze suicide missions being carried out by the Japanese planes. Over three hundred men had been killed or wounded by such an attack on the cruiser Nashville two days before the Mindoro mission: [Japanese General] Yamashita’s forces on Luzon, some 260,000 strong, were weak in artillery, transport, armor, and other modern equipment. Yamashita decided to fight a delaying action...to withdraw the bulk of his forces into three widely separated mountain strongholds and settle down for a long battle of attrition...Shobu Group, located in northern Luzon with about 152,000 troops; a much smaller force, Kembu Group, with approximately 30,000 troops, occupied Clark Air Field complex as well as the Bataan Peninsula and Corridor. The third major force, Shimbu Group, consisted of some 80,000 soldiers occupying the southern sections of Luzon.
On 9 January, with little initial Japanese opposition, General Krueger’s Sixth Army landed almost 175.000 men along a twenty-mile beachhead within a few days. Lt. Gen. Oscar W. Griswold’s XIV Corps prepared to drive south, first to Clark Field and then to Manila. Only after the Manila area had been secured was Swift’s I Corps to push north and east to seize the vital road junctions leading from the coast into the mountains of northern Luzon.
MacArthur thought it unlikely that the Japanese were capable of mounting an attack in Sixth Army’s rear or flank and directed Krueger to follow his prearranged planes, seizing Clark Air Field and the port facilities at Manila as soon as possible. So on 18 January Griswold’s XIV Corps moved south with the 37th and 40th Infantry Divisions, leaving Sixth Army’s eastern flank undefended as it proceeded from the beachhead area. Only when Griswold’s troops reached the outskirts of Clark Field on 23 January did they run up against determined resistance, and it came from the relatively weak Kembu Group. For more than a week the Japanese fought a stubborn battle against the advancing Americans, and it was not until the end of January that the airfield was in American hands. Krueger regrouped the XIV Corps and on 2 February continued south toward the capital.[7]
It is certain that Allen was involved in the battle for Clark’s Field. His hometown friend and fellow soldier, Bud Robinson spoke with him shortly after that campaign.[8] From Clark’s Field, Krueger’s Sixth Army turned its attention to liberating the Bataan Peninsula: Despite the fact that Manila’s world-class harbor was in American hands, it could not be used unless the Bataan Peninsula, which encompassed the bay’s western shore, was secure. Even as XIV Corps forces drove on Manila, MacArthur had thus ordered Krueger’s Sixth Army to seize Bataan. Since Griswold’s troops were fully occupied, MacArthur supplemented with the Sixth Army with XI Corps from Leyte, commanded by Maj. Gen. Charles P. Hall. With the 38th Infantry Division...the XI Corps was to land on the Zambales coast some twenty-five files northwest of Bataan and drive rapidly east across the base of the peninsula, and then sweep south, clearing the entire peninsula including its eastern coast. Yamashita’s Kembu Group had fewer than 4,000 of his troops on the peninsula. On the morning of 29 January, nearly 35,000 U.S. troops landed just northwest of the peninsula. Elements of the 38th Division immediately dashed inland to take San Marcelino airstrip, but found...[it had been] secured three days earlier. The next day Subic Bay and Olongapo were occupied.
The Japanese chose to make a stand in the rugged Zambales mountains at the northern base of the peninsula, which Americans dubbed the “ZigZag Pass.” On 31 January Hall’s forces advanced east, seeking out both Japanese flanks. But unfavorable terrain and determined resistance by the Japanese made it difficult. During the next two weeks, elements of the 38th Division struggled to open the ZigZag Pass, and by 8 February they had overrun the main Japanese positions, killing more than 2,400 defenders. Colonel Nagayoshi and 300 of his men escaped farther south and joined other defenders who held out until the middle of February.
By mid-February Krueger’s Sixth Armey staff had begun planning operations against those Shimbu Group forces closest to Manila. MacArthur made Krueger’s task more difficult in the coming weeks by continually detaching troop units from Sixth Army control and sending them to the southern and central Philippines, which had been bypassed earlier. These diversions greatly impaired Krueger’s ability to deal with both Shobu and Shimbu Groups at the same time.
The main objective of XIV Corps attack against Shimbu Group was to gain control of the Manila water supply, most of which came from dams along the Angat and Marikina Rivers some twenty miles northeast of the city. Here the coastal plains gave way to rolling mountains and plunging valleys carved by the rivers flowing toward the sea. The [abandoned] Wawa Dam could have been bypassed, but Krueger did not realize his error for almost two months. Enemy defensive positions were strung out along a thin line about thirty miles long running from Ipo Dam in the north to the town of Antipolo in the south…The Japanese had honeycombed the area with subterranean strongholds and machine gun positions covering all avenues of approach. Despite massive Allied air support, the calvary advanced slowly, on some days measuring progress in mere yards. Not until 4 March did the troops reach Antipolo.[9]
On March 4th, Allen wrote what was to be his last letter home. The letter would not arrive for several months:
Dear Mom, How is everyone back home Guess you are mad at me for lagging in writing well don’t worry since am just lazy. & too you probably know more news about me than I can tell so send me some news clips see we don’t get paper or nothing out here. Otherwise things are o.k. How is Doug & Merah and all the rest tell all hello & I think of them & of how I would enjoy being back there. Maybe it won’t be much longer so be good & don’t worry about me I’m just fine. As ever, Allen
Lizzie had the porch on the duplex on Watson Street painted just before Allen’s last visit home. He had laid newspapers out on the freshly painted surface and fallen asleep. The paper had left a newsprint stain the length of his body along the boards. In Louisiana, birds were singing in the blooming red bud trees, but on the island of Luzon, the staccato sound of artillery pierced the air: To the north the initial objective [of the Sixth Infantry Division] were Mount Pacawagan and Mount Mataba, two strategic high points crucial to capturing the Wawa Dam. Both mountains were defended by extensive Japanese artillery and infantry positions. By 4 March the infantry’s southernmost elements had gained a precarious foothold on the crest of Mount Pacawagan, but they could go no farther. Just to the north the Japanese continued to deny the Americans any gains in the Mount Mataba area. Not until 8 March did the infantry regain its momentum, gouging the Japanese defenders from their positions as they advanced.[10] It was likely during this battle that Allen was killed. He was torn apart by artillery blasts. The official cause of death was that a “shell penetrated his lung.”[11]
The division went on to capture the Wawa Dam. Within a few weeks, the war was over. Word did not come immediately. But in the spring of 1945, Allen’s letters ceased to come. Lizzie would look out the window at the red buds in bloom, worrying that the worst had happened. At last, when the crepe myrtles were beginning to color the world with beauty, word came that Allen had been killed. Going into battle, his uncle Jack Allen jumped off a truck and hunted down the medics to ask about his nephew.[12] From them, he discovered that Allen had been killed. He knew Lizzie would take the news very hard, and indeed she did.
Lizzie would sit on the porch reading his letters over and over, tear stains blurring the words. Her world had come to an end. In one year, her husband had divorced her—a scandalous thing in those days–and she had lost a precious son. She was so devastated that she developed an ulcer and nearly died herself.[13] She never again was able to look at the red bud or crepe myrtle trees in bloom without tearing up.
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Sources: [1]Interview with Douglas Powell. [2]Interview with Faye R. Powell. [3]“Hyperwar: US 38th Infantry Division,” http://www.ibiblio.org/hyperwar/USA/OOB/38-Division.html. [4]“World War II Commemoration,” http://gi.grolier.com/wwii_9.html. [5]“Luzon,” www.army.mil/cmh-pg/brochures/luzon/72-28.htm. [6]“Hyperwar.”. [7]“Luzon.” [8]Interview with Bud Robinson, Danville, Bienville Parish, LA, 2001. [9]“Luzon.” [10]Ibid. [11]Quote from letter from U.S. War Department to Lizzie Powell, 1945. [12]Interview with Jack Allen, Danville, Bienville Parish, LA. [13]Interview with Faye R. Powell.
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES - 14
LEAVING HOME-
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What makes a house a home? Throughout my life I've lived in a number of houses. The first one was on Watson Street in Bossier City where my mother kept the wooden floors so clean and shiny that you could see your reflection in them. We moved from there to Schex Drive just before I turned 2 years old. That is where we brought my baby sister home. I remember the back yard was so big and we had two play houses there. One was in the back of the garage which we used as a house and the other was an open shed that we pretended was a ship at sea among other things. My Powell cousins lived across the street and Donna and I acted out Cinderella, wearing Sue's skirts, a thousand times. We sneaked into Little Ronnie's forbidden tree house when he wasn't home. And spent countless hours twirling around on the whirl-a-gig they had in the back yard.
We moved to McGregor Street about the time I was in second grade and that's where I made friends with Connie who is still someone I consider a dear friend. We were even roommates together in college. My grandmother MamaPowell came to live with us there after her stroke, and I fell in love with genealogy sitting at her feet. About the time I turned 12 we got a weekend camp at Lake Bistineau and spent every weekend there with my other close cousin Susie. We went to church there and got involved with the youth group. We loved it so much there that we ended up moving to a small camp house at Camp Joy. That is where I spent time fishing and swimming and that is where I fell in love with my soul mate Cliff.
When we married, we moved into a small rental in West Monroe where we were going to college, but his Uncle Ken offered him a job in Pineville and we moved. We lived in a little mobile home, but I was miserable. I was homesick for my family and friends, and it didn't take long before we moved back to Haughton. The first home we owned was a small mobile home on land we rented in Doyline. We grew close to Tammie and Paul Holmes and spent many vacations and weekends making memories with them and their children who were only months apart in age from ours. We had the opportunity to buy land from my aunt where we lived when our children were little. So many gatherings and memories there. It's where I got to know Deana and Ricky and dubbed Deana the best neighbor I ever had. She still carries that title!
When Lori was in the second grade, we bought land in Bossier Parish so our children would go to school there, and built our first house. It was my dream home--a log house that I designed and we built with our own hands. I intended to live there forever. The memories of the years we spent there can not be equaled: swimming, teens, proms, music, gatherings, joy and sorrow. When I had to leave that house, the pain was the most searing I've ever known. No place will ever compare to that home. But God had other plans.
We moved to Missouri in 2004 and leased a house in Eureka. It was a nice place, but Cliff promised me that he'd find us our own home within two years...and he did. We hunted for a long time before we found a log house in Raintree Plantation in Hillsboro. It was far enough in the country that I thought I could breathe. But the log house didn't quite fit our needs. Lo and behold, as we were leaving, the woman in the house next door asked if we were there to look at her house. Apparently, the person who was scheduled to tour it never showed, but when I walked in, I knew. This was it. It was never a house that I loved the way I loved my log house, but I knew it would be home. And it was. We picked up there with the gatherings, the singing, the graduations and weddings, learning we were to be grandparents, and watching those babies grow. We swam, we fished, we laughed, and then we cried. I tended my dying husband in that house. I held him as he faded and died. And I knew I could not stay when he was gone.
So here we are. We emptied, we mended, we cleaned, and we prayed. I prayed for strength to let go, I prayed for my agent to have wisdom, and I've prayed for the next family that will call that house their home. Today there have been offers. I don't know what will come of them, but I know I am nearing the time to truly walk away from that home. The last home Cliff and I had together. Never again will I live in a place with memories filled with "him." On the final day that I went there to do some cleaning, I sat in the floor and cried. I looked out the window at "Cynthia's tree" that was planted the year she passed away, and there was a beautiful red cardinal watching me. He flapped his wings and flew away. I'm going to be okay.
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES -13
All The Things-
There has been so much happening and so little time to write these past weeks. My kids and I have worked ourselves to death trying to get the Hillsboro house prepared for a new family. I think we are finally there...well, at least "we" are there. I don't have the heart to ask more of my kids than I have these past few months. They have been so good to step up to do all the things. We had to fight weather, appointments, functions, you name it to get here. But I have come to that place where I just have to trust that whatever the outcome ends up being, it'll be fine. God has taken care of me these past months in miraculous ways. I'll trust what is next.
In the meantime, Spring has tried to push its way through the storms and wind. I planted some flowers in pots around the condo and plan to sit outside and enjoy the sun and beauty if the wind ever calms down. We even had an earthquake this week. Rated 2.8 and centered just about ten miles from my house. I was at Lori's and thought lightening struck the house or something exploded. The house rumbled and shook. I've felt a few small ones in Hillsboro before, but this one was the strongest and closest to me. I was at Lori's because I ended up having my eye surgery on Friday. I was scared to death, but the double vision and strain on my right eye were becoming more troublesome. Not having Cliff there to hold my hand made me ridiculously emotional, but Lori was such a comfort. The surgery was successful as far as we can tell. I still can't see yet and I look like someone beat me to a pulp. The first time I saw it uncovered, I freaked out. My left eye looks like a dead fish eye, but surely this is temporary.
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I took the whole week off of work because I need to rest and heal. Obviously, being home makes me itch to clean and organize all those things I don't have time to do otherwise, but I'm not supposed to bend or pick up things, so there's that. So at least for a few days, I'll resist the urge to do what being the daughter of Faye Powell makes me long to accomplish.
I finished sixteen episodes of the Murder and Mayhem podcast last week. I am taking a break to research and write another batch for season 2 which I'll release this Fall. In the meantime, the local newspaper interviewed me about the programs and I'm supposed to be featured in the Leader soon. I got a notice this morning that I've had close to 5,000 downloads since I started the podcast in January! This is just by word of mouth. I am so excited that it was such a hit. I've found a few more interesting stories I'm looking forward to researching further. So I haven't run out of good stories, yet.
And I finally was able to get the design for Cliff's tombstone sent to Bambi (Waldron Monument) and he sent back the mock-up. I think it is going to be beautiful. It will probably be another year before the materials are all available, but I am very pleased with it. I miss Cliff so much it is physically painful. I wonder how long it will feel fresh and overwhelming. I think he would be proud of me for how I've managed to do so many scary and hard things. It is still beyond belief to me that he really isn't coming back home. I know I'll see him again, but my gosh, the "firsts" sting like fire. I look for the day that I realize I feel joy again. I know it will happen. I will not take it for granted when it does.
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES -12
I Can Fly-
Another milestone conquered: I can fly. My mother is having some health issues and I felt strongly that I needed to go to Louisiana to be with her. Unfortunately, all of the people who usually "babysit" me were obligated to do other things, so my only option was to fly...BY MYSELF. Never, ever have done that before! Getting on the first plane was not too bad. However, we were about to fly through several lines of tornados and straight line winds and had to reroute the flight four times. Ended up going from St. Louis through Oklahoma to land in Dallas. It was a little rough and we couldn't take our seatbelts off. No flight service was available and I could tell the pilot was nervous by his announcements, but I remained calm.
Landed in Dallas and went directly to the B terminal via a tram and was pleasantly surprised how easy it was. I had about an hour between, so I ran to get food, sat down at my gate to eat, but noticed there were very few passengers going to Shreveport. About time for boarding, there were still no airport staff there? That's when I noticed a tiny announcement under the Dallas to Shreveport banner. "Gate changed to B-32" I was at B-22! I jumped up and RAN, dragging my suitcase which I carried on to make things as simple as possible. They were boarding when I got there, but I made it. They announced anyone with a carry-on from group 6-9 needed to check it. What? I looked out at the plane and realized, I was flying on a plane-ette! Gulp! I have to admit, I hesitated for a moment. But I really needed to go home, so on I went.
My sister picked me up at the airport, and we stopped first to get crawfish because I WAS going to have some on this trip. I ended up eating 8 pounds by myself! It was amazing. I passed by the cemetery where Cliff is buried--first time since his funeral. And yes, I fell to pieces, but we didn't stop yet. I wasn't ready.
My mother's appointment was cancelled because they discovered gallstones (which is what I have prayed it would be) and so that freed up the next day to enjoy time together. My mother, sister, and I went to get flowers to put on Cliff's grave. I also got some to put on Daddy's grave, too. Too tired to go to the cemetery yet, we went back to the house and I put the flowers together. My mother and I put them out together the following day. It was emotional, but I was prepared by then. It happened to be April Fool's Day which was the one day Cliff lived in terror of what I might do. It made me laugh to think he was probably quaking in his grave to see me there on that day (he got me back later).
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The trip was a very healing time for me. I needed to be surrounded by these people who really know and love me. I needed to let go of the responsibilities and worries of trying to get my house ready to sell, trying to get my condo put together, and trying to do right by my job. I am grateful for that solace. My friend Lisa took me back to the airport and I mentioned how nothing looked familiar to me anymore. I've been gone from the area long enough that things have been torn down, new things built, and since I find my way around by landmarks, I was useless for navigation. I say that to put ALL the blame on Lisa for what happened next! ha. We were talking away when I thought it was sure taking a lot longer to reach the airport than I thought it should. Well, that was because we went right on into Texas! We were in Waskom by the time we realized we missed the airport! I told you Cliff got me back! We were crying from laughing at this point. In Lisa's defense, she took us on a side route that actually let out past the the airport and we didn't realize it. So we didn't pass by it, but passed around it! No problem, we got there in plenty of time.
When I got to the gate (the only active gate in the terminal apparently), the itty bitty tee-niny baby plane pulled up and I couldn't believe I was about to get on that!
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But I have now experienced Papa Plane, Mama Plane, and itty-bitty Baby Plane! Thank goodness, I got back on a real plane from Dallas to St. Louis! I can no longer claim I've never flown by myself. I am truly capable of more than I ever believed.
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES -11
Four Months -
(Please understand, this post is just going to be one of "those").
It was four months from the day we learned you were sick to the day you died. It's been four months from the day I lost you to my birthday. In that time, I have traveled a chaotic road of loss and change. I live in a different place, a different house. I drive a different car. I am trying to take control of things in my life that I never wanted to be in charge of. But I'm doing it.
I have your picture around me wherever I go. When I need comfort or courage, I see you urging me on, I hear you encouraging me. I miss your voice, your touch. I turned 62; you never did. I ordered a tombstone for you. How is this real?
I'm going to be okay. I know I am not alone. I don't live in this house alone. God is with me. And I feel your presence around me. But today, I feel sorry for myself. This past weekend, as I was packing up things from our old house and trying so hard to get it ready to sell, I opened a box with the left over napkins from our wedding I had saved for our 50th wedding anniversary. We'll never use them.
I dreamed last night that I was driving down a road and suddenly became blind. I don't know if it is how I feel, or if I am afraid the eye surgery will leave me blind, or what the dream was really about, but I woke up in this sad and gloomy mood. I need the sun to shine. I need to rest. I need to laugh, really laugh, again. And I really need to have a good cry--to cleanse this sorrow out of my soul.
This road of widowhood is filled with so many ups and downs. There are days that I feel like I can do this, and others that I don't know how I'm going to rise out of the bed. I am doing the best I can. I know each day I will grow stronger. And I know, without question, that right now, my God is carrying me.
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my4bears · 2 years
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WIDOW DIARIES - 10
Taking Care of Things
The weather has given a little reprieve this week. I bought some pansies to put outside on my teeny tiny patio. I can see them from my living room because I have sliding glass doors there. I want so much to put my hands in the dirt. It is that time of year, but I am not allowed to plant anything here without permission from the HOA. Thankfully, I have plenty of people who have invited me to dig in their gardens when I need to. Trouble is, finding time.
About a week or so ago, I bought a new vehicle. I can't say I did it my myself because Lori and Dave came with me for moral support, but I was pretty pleased with myself anyway. I went to get an SUV, but ended up with a Honda Odyssey minivan. I LOVE IT. I got a lot of guidance from an old friend back home who is a car manager, so I felt confident I was making good decisions. (Thank you, Jeff!). It is white with tan interior, three rows of seats, but they lie down flat to make a huge amount of cargo space. It also helps with my blindness since it has sensors that let me know if someone is coming up beside me or if I am drifting off the lane.
I've noticed this week that my eyesight seems worse. I woke up this morning with a very bad headache which makes me think the strain on my right eye trying to compensate for the left is causing trouble. I was trying to wait until I could get my house sold before going back to the eye clinic, but went ahead today and made an appointment. The headache and exhaustion is just too much.
Speaking of the house...got a notice that my note in Hillsboro is going up. I have GOT to get it up for sale! Please pray for good weather and enough hands to get it emptied, cleaned, spiffed up, and SOLD as quickly as possible. It feels like I am flushing money down the drain every month.
And two more things and I'll hush (a nod to my daddy there). The podcast is just exploding with listeners. I am thrilled about that. But the work that goes into it is massive. And second, I finally ordered Cliff's headstone last night. It was so wonderful to talk with our sweet friend who is going to make it for us. It made me very homesick. I wanted to go home so much for Mitzi's 60th birthday. I kept trying to come up with a way to justify going in the midst of all the things that must be accomplished. Cannot figure it out. So my hope is that we can take a sister trip together this summer. What do you think, little sister? You game?
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my4bears · 2 years
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Widow Diaries -9
WHEELS STILL TURNING
The last time I wrote, I thought that by the time I went back to work, I'd be ready. Well, that was Monday, and no, I wasn't. I missed the exit because I was trying to miss potholes which have formed due to the ridiculous amount of snow and ice we've had. Yesterday I needed to record the podcast and remembered to bring everything except my computer which has the software on it. Oh well. I came back to the condo and recorded it. Still have that foggy brain thing going on. The wheels are turning at breakneck speed, but I can't seem to get anywhere. Still, it was nice to see my co-workers. They are so supportive and I am truly grateful.
The weather has prevented me from getting all my belongings from Hillsboro to this house. My sister and mother made a surprise visit this past week to help me move, but we were stuck for two days unable to do anything because the roads were too dangerous. I needed that visit. I wrapped up in my mother's arms and sobbed as she soothed me. I know how fortunate I am to still be able to do that. I do not take anything for granted--never again. I will never feel guilty for taking time for myself. I will go on the trips and buy the things and soak up every bit of joy I possibly can.
I miss Cliff so much it is painful. I think it is harder now than it was at first because the reality has set in. But he did prepare things for me to be okay. I have seen God come through in unbelievable ways. Several years ago Cliff opened an account at our bank and borrowed some money against it. It wasn't a big amount, but I've been paying out of my checking account for several years just to cover the interest. Before he died, I told him he couldn't go until he paid that loan. It was just a joke, but he did die before it was paid. I decided to close out all accounts at that bank, but I have to pay that off before I can close it. Last week I got two checks in the mail from reimbursements on something totally unrelated which equaled EXACTLY the amount needed to close that loan! It made me smile.
I am still trying to get my life in order. I think I could manage if there were three or four of me. One to finish clearing out the Hillsboro house; one to unpack and organize the condo; one to go to work; and one to just sleep. Will I ever feel rested again?
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my4bears · 2 years
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Widow Diaries - 8
Moving Forward
I have been unable to update my diaries these past few weeks. I have been sorting through all (and I DO MEAN ALL) of my things. I've relived the past 60 plus years of my life in the last three weeks from documents, photographs, objects, smells. I've laughed and sobbed uncontrollably. One day, I was going through my cedar chest and thinning out things because a two bedroom condo will not fit two stories of a three bedroom with a finished basement worth of things in it. I picked up Cliff's high school football jersey #83 and fell into the most pitiful gut wrenching wailing. I wrapped it around me as if he were holding me and allowed those emotions to wash over me until I was spent. It happened a few more times, but there were also moments that I was able to laugh until my belly hurt from it.
The moving truck came yesterday. I have so many boxes piled floor to ceiling into my garage here, but I am now officially living in the condo. I will unpack slowly and continue to thin out my things. I attended a group grief session the other day. Every single thing they said not to do, I've done. Don't make major decisions for six months to a year; don't try to go through and throw out things too quickly; on and on. We laughed when I told them what I was doing. The facilitator told me she had also had to make these choices quickly like I did. I even met one of my new neighbors. I think I will be okay if I ever am able to just rest a day or two. It was hard leaving the last home Cliff and I ever lived in together. The new place will not have the ghost of Cliff lingering in this room or on that chair. He is here, but it's not the same.
Some good things are happening, too. I started a podcast through work: Murder and Mayhem in Jefferson County, Missouri. It is a 20 to 30 minute session of stories of murders and scandals that have occurred in the county's 200 year history. The idea was to use the genealogy resources we have available for our patrons to put together stories that are intriguing and interesting. And people seem to love true crime. The hook in my stories is since these are rural, small town events, they tend to tie together at some point. I started recording and uploading them to Buzzsprout.com in January and so far have 6 stories. Each Tuesday at 5 pm, a new story gets published. They are available on Buzzprout.com, Spotify, Google Podcasts, and several other sites. (jeffcomomurderandmayhem.buzzsprout.com) I was astounded at how fast it grew. I've had close to 1,000 downloads in six weeks!
Anyway, the St. Louis talk radio station KMOX 1120 AM contacted me and wanted to do an interview about it a couple of Tuesdays ago, and I was on my way when they called to say they were so sorry, but apparently Tom Brady retired and that event knocked my interview to another day. I got a call yesterday that they are going to try again next Tuesday (February 15) beginning at 11 am to 2 pm. But they are going to interview me and are planning to have a psychologist there to talk about my subject and we'll discuss why people are fascinated with murder and death stories. If you are interested in hearing it, they have a live stream that can be heard online. If they don't cancel again, I'll be on the "St. Louis Talks Show."
So, as you can see, I have been so crazy busy. I've been packing, painting, trying to research, write, record, mix, and upload the podcast while also trying to take care of the bills and closing out accounts for Cliff while opening and keeping up with new accounts. My brain is totally fried. I find myself unable to think clearly. I went to the bank yesterday to deposit a check and as I was pulling out of the lot, I noticed a truck behind me who apparently wasn't looking and he started backing up, too. I stopped the truck thinking surely he'll see this big, red monstrous truck behind him! Nope. He hit me. It did put a dent in the fender, but I needed to get to the condo because the movers were on their way. I just told him to let it go. It seems that I am destined to wreck every vehicle I touch now.
The new place is beginning to look like a place I can live. I'll be unpacking boxes for the next 30 years, but I can slow down a little now that I don't have to run 25 miles back and forth between the houses every day. I still have a lot left at the Hillsboro house, but I'll get to that, too. Maybe the next time I write, I'll include a photo or two of the condo.
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