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Jane's Diary, Sioux Rapids, Iowa, 1986

I am 65 years of age, of reasonably sound mind and health.  This is what my mirror reflects.  My brain is in conflict.  I know I am supposed to accept and grow old gracefully.  I accept that I am a widow and no longer sought after as a desirable mate.  I know that I have enough money to live comfortably.  I know that I have good friends whose company I really enjoy and that I am blessed.  These are the things that make my reasonable self has learned to accept. I have not, however, learned to listen entirely to my reasonable self.  In my mind I am still young and desirable (and slender) and I think often of the years when men were so important in my life.  They made me feel beautiful and wanted and above all enthusiastic with life.  Some I remember with loving nostalgia - some with great passion and even joy.  Even the ones whose last names elude me played an important part in my life.  As I sit here I wonder what life has dealt to each of them - where are they - do thy remember me fondly or never think of me at all.  Roscoe - the happy fun loving man I knew - is long dead. Larry, my most serious love, where are you - are you happy -has life treated you well?  You were the one I never got over.  .  .the one who "broke" my heart by sharing your love with another when you claimed to be mine. Bob - who married Mary Ann - still claiming to love me.  I know you did love me but not enough to accept my two children. Jack - my high school love - oh my dear - when did you become an alcoholic and why? Cy - I think of you and wonder how life has dealt with the man who used his religion to cling to a wife he didn't love.  How many others after me believed that story?  You were so charming - so attentive and considerate and so-o romantic. Doug - You were the father of my children and I was appalled on our wedding night to find I was married to a man I didn't even like.  I wanted to run and keep running but I was trapped and tried to make the best of it.  It was so unfair to marry you on the rebound - Larry still filled my heart and my dreams and you were such a poor substitute.  I have to admit that I hardly ever think of you but when I do it is with distaste and as if it were someone else and not me who shared 5 years of your life. Raymond - I visit your grave often and the memories of 28 wonderful shared years floods my mind.  I grew to love you and appreciate your warmth and honest devotion.  You were my love, my friend, my companion and the most important and precious gift in my life.  I am so thankful every day that God let me have you for 28 years.  You have been gone so long and I have followed your advice not to grieve and carry on and to live my life each day to the fullest.  You were always right and there is so much each day to see and to learn.  But there is no one to share a private joy or give a hug or just sit companionably together with in a cozy room by firelight.  I find myself thinking, I must tell Ray this" or ,"Raymond would like this."  I no longer have someone to tell my inner-most thoughts, wishes and dreams to.  I only have the memories and I am happy for that.  I suppose I am wrong to want more.  but I don't like being alone.  I am not a "little old lady". I am still a WOMAN!  I want a warm body to hold me close, not in desire, but in love because passion and desire is for youth and warmth and compassion are for our fading years. I can't tell you why I started writing this letter and I will probably destroy it so no-one else will read it.  I would like to say it feels good to get it out of my system, but it doesn't.  it doesn't relieve the ache I feel that I am no longer desirable.  It doesn't make me feel better about all my friends - Good women all and I love them for being there when I need them, but they can't fill a a man's place in my life.  I could go on and on but all I am describing is widowhood and aging. I will never look at another woman again without wondering if her wants are the same and her yearnings are jut as strong.  Maybe I will be a kinder, more understanding person - I hope so!

UPDATE 1987

I am adding to this one year later.  I am now 66 and there is life in the old gal yet.  I have a man in my life again.  So far it is just letters and phone calls but I think he is serious and he plans to come and see me all the way from California.  We haven't seen each other for 25 years so it may be too much of a shock for either one of us.  he calls me "Sweetie" and it feels so good to have a friend who is interested enough to drive 2000 miles to see me.  I feel alive again and life has become more interesting.  The days are happier and I feel like a young girl again.  Of course my mirror belies that but my inner-self knows what it feels.  I look forward to seeing him but very nervous about how he will see me.  At any rate I am having fun with it and even if it falls flat it has rejuvenated me at least for the time being.  Oh God, these last 10 years have gone by so fast and I still have wonderful memories of Raymond and no one could take his place in my heart.  But they have been lonesome years and I need someone to hold me close and make me feel like a person who is loved.  I have so much love and affection left to give to someone it would be a shame to keep it bottled up for the rest of my days. My friends are as anxious as I am for us to get together.  I know they wish me all the best.  I have such good friends.  I am truly one of he lucky ones.  Oh Merritt - please like what you see and don't expect too much - I am after all 66 years old and ready for warmth and companionship to share my "Golden years".  My heart is young and slender though my body may sag in places and bulge in others.  Please see me with eyes of love - look for the inner beauty and I will try to live up to it. I hope the next time I feel called upon to add to this journal (or whatever) I have as much zest for life as I feel at this moment and as much hope for the future.

OCTOBER 1, 1987

I have just reread the things I wrote down a year ago.  I can't believe how much can change in a years' time.  Merritt is going to be here soon and I am in an agony of suspense.  he says he loves me but he hasn't seen me and I am so afraid he will be disappointed.  I have been convinced for so long that the rest of my life would be spent alone and with no one to share my love that it is like a miracle to be sitting here at 3 A.M. in the morning bursting with anticipation.  Another miracle is in the feelings he arouses in me.  In the first part of this "journal" I said passion was for the young.  I never ever expected to feel passion again.  My god, I am like a young girl first awakened and his voice sends shivers and shocks through me that take me by surprise.  I have to change my mind about one thing - the young have no corner on passion!!!  Oh I do realize they do on stamina - and ability - but I'll settle for what is possible.  Just having these feelings is so wonderful that I will gladly settle for that if necessary.   Oh my dearest love -if fate only gives me the few days you are here and you decide it is not for you - at least I have been loved again and it has been such a joy.  I will be eternally grateful to you for making me "LIVE" again.  If I am an "Old Fool" for falling in love at this point in my life then so be it.  I am a fool - but such an ecstatic one.  Please, God, let it last!

MARCH 5, 1988

It is time to add to my "Journal of an ageing lady".  So much has taken place since I last wrote.  Let me start at the beginning with Merritt's arrival: Oh my God I can't believe what is happening - he kissed me and I am overpowered with feelings I thought long dead!  oh let it be possible - please!  What an agony of suspense - that first night.  I spent most of it in the chair - wanting - yet dreading reality because I have been so afraid that what we both seemed to want would be impossible.  Oh Merritt - my dear - you were so gentle and so understanding and patient!  Thank you, my love!  I know now that with love most things are possible.  I have to admit that I guess what I took for passion before Merritt - was a far cry from the "real" thing.  Never have I felt such shared enjoyment or such extremes of ecstasy as I feel with you, my sweet love.  It is such a delight to come alive in such an exciting way.  Now I really know what true passion is.  I want to look at you -to touch you - to hold you - to just sit and listen to that beautiful voice of yours.  What a joy to feel such extreme pleasure and depth of feelings - especially now.  I try to be realistic because I know there are a lot of reasons why this won't work - but I dream - and enjoy what we have - while it lasts.  i must repeat again.  Youth has no corner on passion!  Oh Merritt, you are a Master at making love and I hope no one else finds out because I don't want to share you with anyone!  I have thought about being with you for the rest of our lives but I know you would never agree to that so I must content myself with whatever you are willing to share with me.  Oh how I love you!  Please don't break my heart.  It is too old and fragile to bounce back.  Each time you come to see me I get so excited and the anticipation is at an all-time high.  When we are together, i am in a haze of love and can't seem to see reality.  when you leave me, I am devastated and afraid I won't see you again.  I know you are out there and I am pretty sure you love me too, but I want you so badly that I'm afraid to hope that maybe you could be feeling the same way I do.  I guess only time will decide that for me.   It has been 2 months - 2  months since you hugged me and said goodbye.  I look forward with great love and so much hope to our next "Hello" hug.  when next I write in this "Journal" I wonder if things will be the same.

JANUARY 25, 1989

Time to add another chapter to my "Journal"  Merritt surprised me and came to spend Christmas with me.  this makes the fourth time he as come all that way to be with me.  He must love me to do that.  We have such a great time while we are together.  he even went to church with me, twice. I'm so proud to have him meet my friends and they all seem to like him.  he gave me such a lovely sentimental gift that really pleased me.  I really hated to have him leave but I know its always going to be this way.  I'm so afraid that some day he will tire of me or find someone closer to home.    If that happens I will be very very sad but I will always have the wonderful memories we share.  he is not an easy man and I have problems dealing with some things - but the compensations make it all worth while.  When I had my hysterectomy last summer I was afraid my sex life was over.  It wasn't.  In fact its even better!  Who would have thought I would be "hot to trot" at my age?  It sounds rather ridiculous but believe me - it isn't.  I hear other women my age Ph Pooh-poohing sex - I just smile and think I'm lucky. Being with Merritt is great even if we just sit and watch T. V. or just visit.  He is so witty he keeps me laughing, and he can "turn me on" with a look from those brown eyes.  When he takes me in his arms and kisses me the fireworks begin - for both of us.  That is so amazing.  We are like a couple of kids and can't get enough of each other.  When we go out for dinner he is so charming and orders my dinner for me - How gallant!  When we go to the car he opens the door for me and gives me a kiss before I get in.  I have to admit he is not perfect (surprised?) and that he does have a temper, but usually when he's tired.  he does drink some -a little more than I like but I don't say anything because he doesn't get out of line.  All in all - I love him very much and I love having him come and stay.  I don't think we could live together for too long at a time.  We are both too independent.  Life is pretty exciting with him in my life so I'm going to enjoy it as long as it lasts - forever - I hope.  I'll be 68 in a couple of months but i feel younger and 3 people at different times have guessed my age in the 50's so I guess feeling younger makes me look younger.  I'm pretty happy right now and I hope it lasts.  I have been reading the first part of this "Journal".  guess I got my wish - didn't I.

AUGUST 1898

It's time to update things for my "Journal". On July 14 I was so excited as I was flying to California to visit Merritt - at his request --for the first time since he became so important in my life. Today I am sitting here wondering "What Happened?"  I don't know if I have ever been so disappointed at visiting someone.  I must have been deaf and blind not to have realized that he is not what I thought he was.  I am really sad because I had built him up to the point where I was ready and willing to do almost anything for him.  Talk about being a fool - I should have realized that 2 divorces in his life had some reason.  I am sure that his bitterness over that plus the type of work he did for over 20 years has made him the way he is.  he is a definite racist.  everyone is a "Nigger" a "Spick" a "Gook" an "asshole" or a "Dumb Broad".  And I am no exception.  I really think he is made at the world and though he loves me - I'm the one who is handy to take out his frustration on.  We spent 5 weeks together during which he managed to make me cry almost every day.   I was so upset and so tense and nervous when I got home that I felt worthless.  Much as i love him i can't go on this way - hurting at his cross words and never knowing when or at what silly thing they will be triggered.  So I made a decision which I hope I can be strong enough to stand by.  I should say two decisions because I decided as soon as I go home that I would not ever go visit him again.  I'm not sure yet how I feel about him coming here.  I do know that I'm through letting him hurt me. When this "affair" started I couldn't believe I was so lucky as to have a man interested in me at this stage of my life.  the two years we have been involved have been wonderful, painful, joyous and tormenting.  It has taken me all this time to realize that Merritt hates women!  I'm not even sure he would admit it but it is so obvious in his treatment of me.  I have had two weeks to mull this over in my mind and I realized that I have been in this some time of worry - puzzlement and agonized waiting every time he has been here and gone home again.  Always before I have been hurt at his cool detachment and lack of communication after he leaves.  I still don't know why he does this - perhaps to keep me in perspective - I don't know.  So I have decided - No More!  The problem is his and not mine.  I have done nothing to cause this and so I refuse to feel as if I had.  He has had nothing but love and adoration from me - I won't fight with him and I accept his criticisms with silence because I have learned (to my sorrow) that to argue with him is futile and I end up being the one at fault - though sometimes I'm completely at sea as to what is is I have done or said to cause him to snarl at me.  He is completely chauvinistic and works it overtime.  I never know where I am with him or when he's going to switch from being loving to crabby at a moments notice - so I go around all tensed up and nervous to the point where I do dumb things. so I have made the decision to stop being his "whipping girl" and I will not call or write.  If he feels the same then this "affair" is at an end and so be it. It has not all been bad.  Some of it was tender, loving and pretty wonderful and exciting.  he is a master in making love and there is no denying that.  There was No problem between us in that area.  I shall miss that very much.  he can be loving and sweet and tender and so much fun and when he is that way I love him so much.  When he is withdrawn or crabby or just downright impossible I still love him but I hurt.  I want the loving man very much but the "other Merritt" is driving me crazy so it's Bye By, my love - it's been good to know you - for the most part.  I gave up smoking because it was hazardous to my health - so are you!  so I must give you up and go back to my slow peaceful way of life. I'll always love you, Merritt.  I feel very sad that something that could have been very sweet and very satisfying for both of us has to be given up because you have never learned to value people's feelings other than your own.  you didn't even really seem to care that I was hurt at your unkindness.  I have wondered if it made you feel macho to make me cry.  I guess I'll never know - just as I don't know to this day, whether you ever really loved me. I will be sad without you and, of course, I have and still probably will, shed tears over you.  In time the hurt will go away and I'll only remember the good times and the love.  Maybe that, too, will pass.

1990

Time to add another chapter to my "Journal".  It is a sad time for me because Merritt has died. When I last saw him in August of 1989 he had brought me home from visiting him in California.  I was full of joy when I flew out there - so elated i felt i could have flown ahead of the plane.  I had waited so long for him to ask me to visit at this house.  He made the plans and said he would bring me home in his pick-up and camper (mobile home).  So there I was, full of love and looking forward to a Happy time with the "Light of my life" in his home.  He seemed glad to see me when I arrived and we fell into each other's arms when we got home.  Oh, I loved him so much!!  My heart was ready to burst with the joy of being with him and being loved.  Only someone who has been alone and lonely can understand how it feels.  For so many years I had felt that I was old and unattractive and unlovable.  Now I was up in the clouds.  he gave me so much courage, self-confidence - love.  He made me feel desirable - sexy - wanted.  he made me feel so special.  I felt young again and full of zest for living and loving.  I didn't feel old and lonely any more.  He called me "Babydoll" and "Sweetheart" but his favorite pet name was "Squirt" because I was short and fit (as he said) between his nose and his toes.  For nearly 3 years he gave me this special treatment with an occasional lapse and the usual disagreements which I saw through rose-colored glasses.  We had been so happy together when he was here at my place and I was looking forward to more of the same and maybe even better.  Almost immediately he began to pick at me...criticize me...nag at me and I found myself wondering what was wrong.  In the five weeks I was with him he had me in tears to or three times a day and the harder i tried to please him the worse he got.  All the things he had praised me for he now criticized.  I could do nothing right.  I tried to help with the housework and he said I was trying to take over his house.  He said I'd probably snooped into everything in his house.  He said I always argued and when I said, "That's not fair Merritt.  I don't argue with you, he said, "No - but you have a way of arguing with your silence!"  he seemed to be angry or disgusted with me most of the time and then he would turn around and be so sweet and loving that I would forgive the hurts and relax my guard, only to have him hurt me again.  It was the most miserable time I'd ever spent any where.  By the time we got ready to come back to Iowa, I was so thoroughly confused and apprehensive that i couldn't wait to get out of that house.  I dreaded the long trip home - and it was a long trip and a silent one most of the way.  He had me in such a state I couldn't even think straight.  I was a basket case when we got home.  I decided i didn't ever want to see him again, much as I loved him.  I guess he sensed that it was over so he didn't stay very long.  We had one very special day together before he left and I am so glad I have that memory now.   When he was packing the car and trailer he would hug and kiss me every time he walked by.  He told me he would always love me and walked out of my life.  I cried for days after he let and destroyed his letters and tapes and vowed I was glad to be rid of him.  I found out that love is stronger than common sense or pride.  After a month I called only to find out that he was ill with acute liver failure.  He was very cool to me but I excused that because he was ill.  Over the last 8 months, I have tried repeatedly to maintain contact with him.  At times he was his old sweet loving self and we had some good talks...other times he was nasty like he was when I was out there.  I finally decided that I was only upsetting him and causing myself pain so I called him in February and told him that I loved him and always would but that I couldn't cope with his treatment of me so I was giving up.  Since he didn't say a word, I guess he agreed it was time.  That was the last time I talked to him and I had no way of knowing that in less than a month, he would be dead. I think this has been the most frustrating experience in my life.  I know that Merritt loved me because a man doesn't make a 3500 mile trek 5 times unless there is some feeling for the person he traveled to see.  I'll never know why he was one person here and a different person entirely out there.  I tried to rationalize that he was already ill but Mabelle (his son's wife) told me he has always been hard (impossible) to get along with.  I thought it was me.  Mabelle says, "No, he was the same with them and his sister."  So i guess I have to accept that Merritt was just being himself and that he really wasn't a very nice man.  But even though I admit that my heart reminds one of the warm, sweet, tender loving man fell in love with and it is that Merritt for whom I mourn.

Memorial Day 1990

Memorial day and my love is but a memory of warm hugs and tender kisses.  No more warm body holding me close and thrilling my senses with words and caresses.  No more the lovely feeling of desiring and being desirable.  No more laughter at private jokes or just setting in the comfortable presence of my lover.  No more days of looking forward to his arrival and the joys of being together again after time apart.  No more breakfast together, with both of us in a special close mood after a morning of loving and such physical satisfaction. Life goes on but the zest is gone and I feel old and useless and tearful and lonely.  I went through this when Ray died and I spent 10 years waiting for someone who cared.  When Merritt came into my life I thought, "Now I will have someone of my own in my declining years."  Alas - 3 short years and I'm right back where I was but it's even harder this time.  I guess because I know I'm alone for good this time and I hate being alone.  I like having a man to hold and give my love to.  I'm a very loving person and feel so empty with no one to wait on, cook for and even share things with.  I like making love, even at my age, and I hate that for me that is over.  I love having someone to turn to in the night who will hold me close and make me feel like a whole woman, but I know it's over and he is dead and I am left desolate again and life goes on!!! SIGH!

August 27, 1990

It is another hot day and I am still unable to get around with my bad leg.  It gives me too much time to think and remember when Ray died.  My life was empty and meaningless.  Mother came to live with me and I had a purpose...someone who needed me.  Six years later, she was gone and I faced the future alone again.  If you've never been alone, you have no idea what profound sadness there is in being alone and with no goal or purpose in your life.  Oh you do the things that are expected of you. . .You act as if it doesn't matter and you hid your feelings because no one else really cares -- and you learn to live with it.  When Merritt came into my existence I was sure no man would ever be interested in me as a woman.  I let the fact of age and breast surgery keep me from even hoping for love again.  When we started writing back and forth -it was just as relatives or friends, and every letter was received with a sense of beginning to come to life again...not because of a hope for love..it never occurred to me it would lead to that.  The first indication of interest came in a letter to "Dearest Janie" in which he expressed the desire to see me, either out there or better yet, here.  I had mixed feelings of longing, anticipation, disbelief, fear..yes the whole gamut of thoughts.  The next few months were tense with a rising feeling of excitement.  then came the phone calls and the usual male-female bantering which led to expressions of deeper feelings.  I was exuberant with joy, yet i was filled with dread.  Clearly this man was giving me the message that he was interested in a relationship--governed by my wishes in the matter.  I began to have emotions I had long thought quieted--his voice--saying the things I had wanted so badly to hear made me so aroused that I wished we were together.  And yet, I was so afraid of the reality of our meeting that it made me actually ill on the way to met him and I had to turn back.  I was completely honest and told him it had been 12 years since i had been with a man and he shouldn't expect anything physical.  I didn't know if it was even possible.  I had already told him about the mastectomies and that I would understand if he decided that it would bother him.  he told me that it was nothing i could help and that he didn't think it would be a problem.  He said that I would just have to put up with his attention to the rest of me.  I wanted to believe it..Oh God...how I wanted to believe him.  I guess until we actually stood holding each other close that day he arrived, we both were afraid the other would be disappointed. I have lived that first kiss over and over and over.  All my fears melted away (almost all).  He was not repelled.  He liked what he saw.  I knew right away that we both had the desire for physical love.  It was so obvious with both of us.  He had more sense than I did and said he would sleep in the spare room and I should think about it.  I think he realized I was scared to death.  I wanted him to make love to me but I was so sure it would be a fiasco and that after 12 years it would be impossible.  When i finally came to him I told him I was afraid and he was so sweet and patient.  I felt like a virgin at her first time.  It was pretty much like that too!  As it got easier, i found myself consumed with desire.  I wanted to just shut out the world and spin a cocoon around our love and never let him go.  How do I explain the love I felt for him?  When you are young you take passion for granted.  It is warm, loving and heated.  It is youth energy, learning to share another's feelings.  At middle age the fire has quieted some and the physical part of love is not necessarily of prime importance but is there if you want it.  Ray and I were very close.  We loved each other in the way it should be in a marriage.  We had our ups and downs like anyone else, but we had an enduring respect for each other.  I love him so very much and respected his memory.   With Merritt, I don't really know.  I have pondered and wrestled in my mind with the emotions he aroused in me.  Was it really Merritt I loved - or the idea of a man in my life who made me feel young and desirable and a whole woman again.  God knows.  he was not what i would have chosen in my youth.  I think, had there not been such a strong physical attraction between us, the relationship would have ended after the second time he was here.  On looking back, he had such different ideas about life and the people around us but I didn't really listen.  I was in such a glow of joy and rapture that it passed right over me.  When I did begin to listen, I excused his terrible outlook on the job he had for 24 years as a prison guard. After the first Christmas he spent with me he wrote and said he wanted to end our relationship!  We had such a good time and I had thought everything was OK so the letter really shattered me.  But my pride made me sit down and write back that I agreed with him --we were too different.  i wished him well and told him I would never forget him.  The next couple of months were miserable.  I was so angry and hurt and I felt used and violated.  Then he began to woo me again and I forgot pride and anger.  I became a willing victim again.  Funny, that thought just popped into my mind.  .  .a victim.  I guess that is what I was.  Oh well! He came with his trailer and pick up and spent 9 days with me.  It was a time filled with passion and what I thought was love so again i was living in a rosy world.  I cried when he left because I might never see him again.  Again he ignored me for a couple of months and I was devastated.  I hated what he was doing to me.  i wrote a letter expressing my disgust with the way he was treating me.  I got a response, "Go to Hell".  I was at a loss to understand how a man could tell you "I love you" and yet say "Go to hell."  I told him not to worry.  I was already there thanks to him.  I then got the famous, "I'll always love you, no matter what" letter.  Cloud 9 time again.  I'll never know what kind of magic this man had that could erase slights, snubs, hateful words, and replace them with love and anticipation.  I sometimes think I was just addicted to the sex we shared.  It was pretty awesome!  Especially at our age.  I have told myself that any man could have turned me on as lonely as I was, but I am not convinced.  If that were so, why does the thought of replacing Merritt not hold any interest for me?  He has been out of my life for a year now and I'm still crying over him.  It is so hard for me to accept that he is not out there any more where he might relent once again and call me. I tell myself I am just frustrated because he left so many questions unanswered. I want to believe that he really loved me but I'll never really know for sure.  His invitation for me to come and spend time with him - was it because he was hungry for me or for sex?  I want to believe that his behavior was a result of his illness, but reports from his family tell me it was expected behavior and normal for him.  While I was with him out there the disillusion began to form.  I began to really see what he was like.  He nagged me.  he embarrassed me.  He shocked me.  He belittled me.  He had me so upset and confused I was almost ready to take a bus home.  Indeed, I once mentioned it and he wouldn't hear of it.  It seemed the only place we could be in agreement was in bed. I spent 5 weeks with him and I don't think there was a day he didn't reduce me to tears.  I couldn't understand what was happening.  I love him - he loved me - we had great sex in bed but most of the rest of the time i was so uncomfortable with his attitude.  I was glad when we started for home, but that 5 days on the road was so frustrating.  I knew before we got here that no matter how much I loved him or wanted him, I had to end this relationship before it completely destroyed me.  I did make one more attempt to communicate because I wanted so much to understand this man who had turned my life around.  he held me several times on that last day and told me he loved me and would always love me. After he left, I cried for days, but finally sent him a note that said simply, "Thanks for the memories" and I proceeded to set my mind to accept never seeing him again.  When I found out he had acute liver failure, i was filled with love and compassion that anyone so vital could end up this way so I called to tell him I was praying for him and that I loved him.  I wrote and sent cards and called to see how he was.  he was so changeable.  One time he would tell me I was the sweetest person he ever knew and he love me and if he got well he would come back and show me he loved me.  The next time we talked he would be aloof, cool or make hurtful remarks.  I'm sure, now, that it was his illness and nothing I said or did.  When they called to tell me he had died, it was over 2 weeks after his funeral.  I didn't even have the chance to pay last respects.   Everyone tells me I'm lucky that things happened as they did or i would have had to take care of him.  Was I lucky?  If so, why am I still crying over him 5 months after he died?  Why do i fee so lost, so useless, so defeated, that life is just existence?  Will i ever have that exuberant enthusiasm for life that Merritt gave to me for the short time of our "love affair"?  I guess it is as usual, up to me.  I've always had the strength to overcome the sad times in my life and plan for the future.  Right now the future looks pretty bleak and I don't know where I will find the strength to overcome this feeling of despair at being alone again.  Suddenly, for the first time, I feel old and tired and without hope.  And this, too, shall pass! Oh God, I hope so,  it would be so easy and so peaceful to just go to sleep and not be sad any more.

DECEMBER 1990

Time to record another event in my life.  I have now developed a heart problem in the physical sense.  I feel like I have lost control and right at the moment I have mixed emotions about the "Future." Physically, I can't say this is a problem I can't cope with.  Emotionally, it seems like the strain is too much and I can't help but think what is going to happen next?  With love in my life (Merritt) I could conquer most any obstacle because I was happy.  Alone, it is a fear-ridden existence and every obstacle seems like a punishment for being so happy for a while.  I am no longer floating on a little pink cloud but feel I have been pushed over the edge with no parachute and have landed with a thud. My good sense tells me I will adjust to this as I have adjusted to other problems but they have all taken their toll and I don't seem to have the "Fight" in me any more.  It would be easy to just give up and say "The Hell with it."  I won't though because others have coped and so can I. I have had over a year to "get over" Merritt but I doubt I ever will.  I will always have that feeling of frustration which his death did not resolve.  I know that I loved him too much but that he was afraid of loving me lest he be hurt again, or hurt me.  But in trying to avoid hurting me he hurt me worse because he would never talk to me about his feelings except so say, "I love you - no matter what."  I'm sure this constant emotional stress has not been good for my heart but I feel the angina was inevitable.  Mother, Ruth and Grandma all had it so guess Inherited it from them.  I am thankful it didn't show up while I was so happy with Merritt. Time will tell the story of what happens now.  Guess it is a good thing we can't see ahead.  I have many things to be thankful for -my family, my friends, a good home and the finances to make life easier.  I am handling my grief a little better each day, with fewer relapses into tears.  time is always the healer in this respect and no one can grieve forever.  After the holidays are over I can get back to being busy again it will be easier, not better, just easier. So ends another chapter in this Journal.

APRIL 4, 1991

It has been a long Winter and Spring is finally here.  I must resume my early walks so this A.M. I walked about 5 blocks.  I was so exhausted from that I wonder if I'll ever be able to walk a mile each morning as I used to.  My feet and legs are giving me trouble, especially the one I had surgery on.  I have been having heart pains the last couple of days and it really scares me but I am coping. I try to keep busy but can't seem to get the energy.  I don't want to become a "rocking chair' lady but sometimes it hardly seems like the effort. I got out my "Journal" this morning and read it over again with the usual tears.  Bob is here to work in the yard so I must hide my feelings and make my "public" appearance with a smile.  Today I have set myself the task of writing letters to be left for my children.  What can I say to them to let them know how I love them?  But then I guess they know that. Since my heart attack in December I have become a little reckless with my money.  I have been up to Redwood Falls a couple of times and spent too much.  I guess I have this feeling that I have to do these things now before I get to the point where I can't do them.  There are so many things I wanted to do and didn't get done. . .like going to Alaska and Australia and England.  So I guess I will spend that money on something I enjoy and I guess that is not being reckless.  At least it keeps me from getting so depressed.  It is Spring.  A time of rebirth and renewal.  I wish I could have that feeling spring used to generate. I do enjoy the beauty of the season, but it is hard for me to feel any anticipation.  It is af if I have given up all hope and am just waiting for the end.  But I have not yet earned that release. Who knows what the future will bring.  I must resign myself to live from day to day but my heart isn't in it.  No one else will know that my spirit has taken more than it can handle and the lady who keeps denying she is old really feels 100 years old.  I think this is called "Self-Pity", and I can't seem to care.  Will I ever get back my zest for everything or even some semblance of the person everyone things I am?..........Who knows?

JUNE 6, 1991

It gets later and later.  Yesterday Adeline was killed.  She had just returned from a journey with her granddaughter to England and Wales--killed on her way home from her daughter--pulled through a stop sign and hit by another car.  At 80 years old, who can say what happened.....Jet lag from the trip?......Too old to be driving?........Heart attack?  At any rate she doesn't have to be alone and lonely any more or spend months or years in a nursing home or any other of life's "Rewards" for growing old.  Last week, Opal's husband died after a lingering illness--a time of worry and despair for Opal come to it's final conclusion.  Every ending signifies a new beginning!  I don't envy Opal's new beginning.  It will be painful and devastating learning to exist without her loved one.  When someone you love dies, you die a little bit too.  After Ray died, I lived a quiet life, trying to cope with the time until I, too, could leave this world.   To someone who has never experienced the "disease" of loneliness it is hard to describe the symptoms.  Yes, it is emotional and yes, it is physical, and yes, it is spiritual.  The mind cries out for shared activities and experiences.  The body cries out for someone to cling to and the spirit cries out for surcease from the constant pain.  You are told, "Keep busy", so you can do all that you can to do that.  But even when you are busy, your mind reminds you that things are not the same.  You hear a melody and it brings a picture to mind...you and your loved one in a special moment.  You see a couple together and wish it could be so for you again.  You see a love scene on TV or in a movie and your body aches to be held and loved once more.  Is it any wonder, then, that when someone comes along and fulfills those yearnings that you begin to really come alive again?  Looking back, I know I was vulnerable and not ready to see the pitfalls.  Someone asked me just the other day, "Why did you love him?"  The only answer I could think of was, "Because he made me feel like a woman again." I've had nearly two years to come up with the answers and to this day, I can't tell you for certain--Did i love him or was it the feelings he brought back that I loved?  Would I have been better off to go on the way I was, existing in a vacuum, or was it better to feel the excitement of anticipation--love--physical satisfaction--shared plans--frustration--hurt--anger--extreme joy, etc., etc., etc.?  I guess I would have chosen the latter, because it is better to feel something than to feel nothing.  Yes, i would probably do it again.  I'm honest with myself.  I like men and I like being loved and cherished even if it doesn't last.  Even at my age, the physical side can be wonderful and I enjoyed every minute--or hour--of it with Merritt.  He was a very considerate and accomplished partner and enjoyed pleasing me (in bed).  Its too bad that consideration seemed to dry up when we were out of bed. I'm sorry as Hell that it had to end the way it did.  I have wondered if I could have tried a little harder.  When he brought me home I still loved him and wanted him, but I was so tired, confused and frustrated I just couldn't stand being hurt any more.  We both knew it was over and yet I think he felt the same as I did--that it was not going to be easy to give up a relationship that had held so much warmth, love and joy.  I have no doubt that had fate not stepped in and taken him from this life, we would have resolved our differences from time to time, just to be together for whatever amount of time we could get along.  it would have had to be here, where we had the least problems.  It's a moot point, because I will never know, will I? Ray's death was painful because we were so close, but I accepted his death easier.  (I don't know if that is the right word.)  There were no unresolved issues.  We had time to learn to accept, together.  With Merritt, I still  find myself crying because there were so many things left unsaid - so many questions left unanswered - so many frustrations left to puzzle over.  My mind gets in such a turmoil sometimes I think I could scream, "WHY??????" It is difficult to erase thoughts and realize I'll never know the answer to that.  I think I was obsessed with him and still am.  At 70 years of age that is hard to understand.  I always thought this end of my life would be quiet and peaceful.  Instead, I fell into this rage burning inside me that won't be quenched. My body is feeling the effects of time--the aches and pains--the bad heart--the lame knee--the God-awful loneliness and I wonder at the conflict in my mind--this burning desire to find some meaning to the rest of my life and the hope for willingness to accept that this is all there is.......be grateful for the memories--loved ones--friends--comfort--money.  It is so hard to be old--alone.  I try--I really do--that is why I sit and write these little "Journal" that I started before Merritt.  When you have no one to share your innermost problems and help you to solve them, it helps to pour them out on paper.....at least for a while.  They just don't go away, and keep building to impossible heights until you just have to exorcise them once again. I face the world with a smile or a laugh and everyone thinks i never take anything seriously.  I have given serious thought to going to a psychiatrist or a psychologist, but I already know what my problem is and what could they do to help--explain Merritt?  how could they!--listen to me feel sorry for myself?--that wouldn't solve the problem--send me bills?--that would only exacerbate the problem.  No - time is the great healer and fate will eventually end all my problems so now I play the waiting game once again. I think I have answered one question, at least for today--I really loved Merritt--God knows why.  Maybe because no matter how painful the ending was, the joy he brought into my life was a treasure to hang on to.  In time, I hope the pain will diminish so that all that I will cling to are the love, the warmth and the friendship.    Now, I've had my cry--my pity party for today--onward and upward for the rest of today--come on, Janie, you can do it!

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1992

I didn't know if I would be here this morning or not.  I had a problem and was up until 3 A.M.  It is so frightening to be alone in the night and afraid to lie down.  My heart has acted up twice this week, so I'm afraid I'm in for more trouble.  My attitude this A.M.. I'm so low that I think I would welcome just going to sleep and not fighting to stay on this old earth any more. I love my family.  I love my friends and I know I am fortunate not to have money worries, so I count my blessings and they are many. When Ray died I was devastated and thought it would have been so easy to go with him.  But I pulled myself together and got on with my life.  Then a year later, Mother came to live with me and I spent 6 years devoted to her.  It wasn't easy, but I adjusted.  Then came Merritt to wreak havoc in my heart and in my emotions.  Once again, I had reason to live.  Two years and it was over and I'll never be the same.  I know that people think he took advantage of me being lonely.  I know it myself, deep down!    Yet here I am, still missing him so damned much and the loneliness is almost unbearable.  I feel like my life and health began to fall apart after we parted.  I will be 72 next month and the future holds more days and nights of wondering "what for?" How do you explain to younger people the trauma of getting old!  Yes, I joke and say I'm NOT old and that my spirit is still young and all the silly and trite things people my age project to hold back the advancing years.  But when I am alone, I can't hide the truth from myself.  They call these the "Golden Years."  what a laugh.  What is "Golden" about seeing your body deteriorate--your face wrinkle--having your joints swell and ache with arthritis--getting cataracts--watching to see which of you is the next to go to the nursing home or die?  I envy those who still have a mate to help them through--someone to give them a hug or hold their hand or a word of encouragement.  I thought I could endure almost anything, but loneliness has a way of eating away your confidence. It is getting harder and harder to keep up the facade of the "Happy go lucky" face I show to the world.  I want to cry and scream out my pain but I bottle it up inside and it is killing my spirit.  I sometimes feel like stopping all the medication and let happen what will.  But with my luck I'd probably just end up a hopeless invalid and tied to a faulty body and I'd hate that even worse.  so I'll put on a "Happy Face" and go on the best i am able and not let anyone see the poor spirited scaredy cat I really am. I'm not a religious person and I have trouble accepting their teachings on faith.  Heaven and Hell, I believe, are experienced right here and you pay for your sins before you die. As for the "here after" well, I don't know about that, but if there is more, how does one go about meeting up with old loves?  If I had to choose between Ray and Merritt today, it would be an impossible choice to make.  Ray was so superior to Merritt that it seems there would be no hesitation about a choice.  But he has been gone so long and it is hard for me to think past the more recent extremely passionate times with Merritt.  It is so ridiculous to realize that the most passionate time of my life came at a time when the flames become dying embers with most people.  It had always been a nice experience, but not earth shattering--until Merritt.  The chemistry between us, at least for me, was addictive. It's just unfortunate that the life he led made his outlook on people so warped.  It could have been--but why even say it--it wasn't a satisfying situation and it was causing me such anguish and torment that it had to end. I'm glad it didn't end in a quarrel--with words to hurt.  We just said, "I love you" and that was it.  It was one of the most difficult things I ever had to do to see him walking out of my life.  Even if he had lived, it wouldn't have been any different--just more difficult and more prolonged.  I wish i could have been angry, but I love him too much to part in anger.  I have so many thoughts.  would I have done differently had I know he would die soon?  Could I have said something to make him understand how he was hurting me?  I don't know!  I wish I could just put his memory to rest because I still get so emotional over him. Why is it every time I write these little additions to my "Journal" I end up mourning for what might have been?  I guess I am just a foolish old woman destined to live in the past to escape the reality of life as it really is!! I am so much better off than a lot of people in my age group.  I know that!  I've heard all the reasons I'm supposed to feel fortunate about.  Why doesn't it make me feel better? I probably should tear up all this stuff I write, but I'm selfish enough that I want to share it with someone who loves and understands me. Life is everything, they say, and I've had it all.  I just hope I have the courage to face what is left.

Go to the "final Letter"

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