A lot about family

I got upset today. 

I slept OK, woke up up time, but with a headache.  I took something and did my shower.  I got distracted on the computer and didn't do my God Time.  I will get it before I go to bed in a couple of hours. 

Remember tonight is my early to bed night because we have that delivery tomorrow. 

Then we went out to eat.  The Indian place wasn't open yet (paratransit "adjusted" the times so we would only have 20 minutes there, if that), so we went to the taqueria.  I had a couple of fajita tacos and a cheese quesadilla.  The tacos were hot and fresh, the meat was a little fatty but that's not a bad thing.  I do better eating a high-fat diet anyway. 

Ron ate Chilaquiles.  Basically, it is an egg casserole, very messy, very cheesy, sauce everywhere, the kind of thing that has me doing a load of laundry.  But I brought Ron's bib and we used that.  It got pretty messy. 

He had a beer, "with", but didn't get ugly or obnoxious.  We finished our meal, paid, and went over to the Indian place.  They are in the same strip mall. 

We hung out there for a while, we didn't have time to order any food but I got a drink.  Sure enough, there's our ride. 

I got home and one of my message boards was talking about revenge.  It got me thinking, as you might expect, about Ron's accident.  How we never got any earthly justice.  How upsetting it is when that man keeps coming by, asking if Ron is "OK".  I ranted about it a little, online, ,but ended it by saying I trust God's vengeance.  It's just hard to wait and watch Ron suffer, in the meantime. 

But I have to believe it all serves a purpose.  Ron's accident got me started handing out Bibles, for instance.  A lot of people served out of that.  Maybe someone got saved.  I will never know until God tells me.  There's more, but you get the idea.  God works all things for good, yes, even the horrible stuff that gives you nightmares, decades later (yes, I have them).  If nothing else it imparts empathy for those who are going through trials of their own. 

We should, if at all possible, avoid those who caused us pain, if we can.  In my case I am able to most of the time,and, when I couldn't, Ron was with me.  The person seemed to avoid me, actually, which made life a lot easier.  I don't think even Ron knows how deeply they scarred me. 

It's the people you care about, can hurt you the most, but then you already knew that.  Even those you don't care about have the capacity to make your life a living hell, at times.  But I pushed on and got through it, and, while I still have nightmares, it is OVER. 

We will see what happens when people die and it's funeral time.  I have been assured that is all locked down but it could still get ugly.  I don't care about the money, but I don't want my loved one screwed out of any more money if at all possible. 

Everyone said my mother had a lot of money.  Her last husband was a very rich man.  He had a boat, lived on the lake, had a big house.  He was a very nice man which is all I cared about.  He was also dying of melanoma.   I was crushed when he died.  They should have let me go to the funeral. 

When he died, he left everything to my mother.  She did not have to work.  I think manic spending depleted the reserves quite a bit, and then she made some other bad decisions that resulted in her actually having to make a living for herself.  She lost her storage units, with all her "family" stuff, and died broke. 

Well, not broke.  She had a couple thousand in a savings account, we found out about that years later.  We each (she had 3 kids) got a slice of that which was nice, but I didn't expect anything.  I was also given a set of pearls she owned, they were supposed to be "mine" according to my sister.  I wore them at my wedding and then gave them to my youngest niece a few years later.  I was never going to wear them, she would, and I thought she deserved a little family history.  I knew my sister would be giving "her" (matching) pearls to her oldest daughter so I thought "mine" should go to the youngest.  She was a young woman when I did this.  My sister was pretty upset, why, I don't know. 

And I got my grandmother's Bible, the one she was given upon graduation from the orphanage where she was raised.  It has a handwritten note from her director,which is a very nice little poem about serving God.  I keep it with my other personal Bible stuff. 

That's one thing I am "bad" about doing, if I am out of Bibles and someone needs one, I have no problem handing over "My" Bible.  I have done it on a couple of occasions.  The only Bibles I won't give away are the one I got as a child (sentimental, and it is damaged), and the one that belonged to my grandmother.  Sadly, you can tell she never read it. 

My grandmother had a very sad life.  Apparently she was very good at math, and actually worked for some big name agencies doing math for them.  She married young, to a soldier, who died in front of her,while she was pregnant.  He had forgotten to switch the insurance to her so she had to fight his family for support.  It broke their relationship.  Sometimes I think it would be fun to look them up, but they probably don't want any part of us.  And she was schizophrenic.  I spelled that wrong, but you get the idea, severe mental illness.  She wouldn't accept the diagnosis and it made for a very difficult life for her. 

She disowned me for marrying Ron, and would have been furious to find out I got the Bible.  But she always said she was saved so I am sure God "fixed" her after she died. 

Anyway, that's enough for now.  You have a good one and I am going to go pray for you.