4 months ago, a month before I started my blog on the one year anniversary of Angela’s passing, my bank account had $11 in it and I was behind on all on all of my bills. I reached a point of having to scrounge through the cabinet to find something for my kids to eat. And, I was driving a car that I didn’t technically own. I was at my rock bottom and I asked God for a miracle. I cried a lot about being poor and not being able provide the way a father should provide for his children. I felt ashamed. I was concerned with my plight but never let it overwhelm me and let stress take over. I knew God would take care of me and my family somehow. But, I was sad about being poor and will never forget what it was like and will help those in need for the rest of my life.
Angela ran a vintage online boutique where we hand dyed vintage slips and nightgowns, I wanted to, as the man of the house, take over her business that she loved so dearly, I didn’t know anything about women’s lingerie other than what she had taught me. It was not my forte but she loved it. It gave her purpose. Especially after she got sick. My wife built the business, I just assisted her with the lights and camera and being her friend.
Sling’n lingerie immediately after my wife died was a tough one to be dealt. I didn’t want be looking at lingerie, learning about the styles and fits of lingerie, buying, dyeing and selling lingerie. I did it but it was a struggle. I had a hard time looking into my future seeing myself building myself up as a lingerie man. I was thinking something a little more dude oriented. But, as I told my wife, this is the business that God gave us and it is our only source of income. Many tears for many reasons fell on some of the lingerie as I went through the motions of my very own lingerie boutique business.
Angela told me when she was dying that she found out from Social Security, at one point or another, that she didn’t work enough hours to qualify for retirement benefits. So I never thought about survivor benefits after she died because I thought she didn’t have any. She told me she didn’t. Way after she died, someone told me that anyone who ever paid into Social Security is entitled to $255. So, since I couldn’t even pay my bills I thought the $255 would help keep my utilities turned on. I scheduled an appointment and 2 months later the day arrived. The gentleman who help me was very nice and had all of the paperwork ready to be filled out when I got there. He had everything ready to go and knew what he was going to do for me. He told me told me that each one of us, Me, Elliott and Daisy qualified to get survivor benefits and would each receive a payment benefit each month. He said he was able to get it back paid to January which was nine months of pay. I started crying on him and said that I couldn’t be leave it. Poor guy. I was really sobbing on him. He could not have been nicer in doing what he could for me before I even got there. I told him thank you for going out of his way to help me and my family. I am still in shock over it today two months later. My life completely changed that day and I owe all of my many thanks to God for that. 100%. It was the miracle that I asked for. I never lost faith but I didn’t see it coming. Now, I am ‘retired’ to raise my children as a single parent, which is what the money is intended to be used for. They are payments so that the widowed spouse can provide for and raise their children. Survivor benefits really do help those in need.
Sometimes in life you are forced into a new reality that is nothing like how it was before and never will be again. You are forced to change and adapt because the old way that you identified yourself as, is gone. It’s the same reason a parent will protect their children’s innocence for as long as possible. Because once that part of your life is gone or taken the change to come is inevitable.
At least for us, we were able to talk in depth for many years about how to raise to our children and how it would be on my own without her. But, once she was gone and devastation set in, the reality was that everything I thought I had prepared myself for wasn’t going to help me like I thought and planned it would. I have had to learn how to adapt on my own one day at a time and try to hopefully feel a little better each week, each month. I still sob but I am able to compose myself and pull myself together afterwards. It’s sad.
I do try to do things that make me happy. I take a two mile walk on the beach almost everyday that it is not raining to hard to go looking for driftwood for the house. since I am retired, my days are free to do what I want. That is why this bog is important to me. First, I have forced myself to meet a deadline each month on the 27th so I am always counting down how many more days I have before ‘post’ date. And, by posting each month about what has happened to me and my family, what I am working on and what inspires me, and how God carries me through, I hold only myself accountable to my faith, growth and maturation.
By posting each month about how God carries me and my family through, and, about what has happened to us and what we have been through, what I am working on and what inspires me to be creative, I have forced myself to hold myself accountable to show some sort of growth toward my future. It’s 100% mine from concept to creation each month and I am proud of myself when I complete my post even if I dont have any readers. I might have one. It doesnt a matter. I write it, and create it as an outlet for me and for my children to be able to look back and have a history of our lives documented and presented my own style And most importantly, so they never forget who their mother was. What we have been through, how we have grown, what we have accomplished and where we are heading in the future.
My blog forces me forward looking and to show that I am growing and not stagnant. Being stagnant, going nowhere, having no future goals leads to discontent and overall moodiness and lack of drive. I have learned that the hard way. That is why women want a man that is striving toward something, someone who shows the ability for future growth. Because he is the one happy to selflessly build toward something in the future and provide for what comes for his loved ones simply because he loves them.
I heard a psychiatrist say that a tragic event, a life changing event, can be looked at on a peace of paper as a black spot in the center of it. That spot is permanent and it will never go away, that is the traumatic event. But as time goes on, layers of colors are built around that spot. And as more time passes, more rings of color are added and the distance to the center of the black spot gets farther away. But it is still there. You just learn to live within your colors were the people who care about you and the special memories that make are. They are what has made you stronger, more beautiful. It is your courageous life outside and beyond that spot, in living color.
The dark spot is a hole, the abyss of psychological trauma. Some people are never able to climb out of it. There life is consumed by it. Most don’t even realize they’re in a hole. Like a blackhole, they eventually cross the event horizon of despair and become a new version of themselves without a shred of hope of personal growth to try to hold on to who they were before. They would rather not care to think about what is happening to them. At that moment is when you need to be thinking about it. You have two choices: move forward or backwards, be in a state improvement or decline, living or dying?
I felt like that. I thought I wanted to die after My wife died as I laid there crying day after day, week after week, month after month. But I have two beautiful children that willed me to want to improve my life for them. For all of us. Pepper didn’t care either way. He liked me curled up in bed. He likes me in a chair in front of the computer. He is on my lap right now as I type this. He has been there for me just like he was for my wife when she needed him. And, he is there for Elliott to travel with us everywhere we go. If we go, Pepper goes. He is truly an emotional support cat, My family are my colors that bring me true joy and happiness.
Even as s small child I have walked my own path. It was one year ago that I tried to start this blog. I know I have come a long way because I was not even in a place to be able to write anything down then. I couldn’t do it. I was sobbing everyday in the fetal position in bed in complete agony. I still cry many times a day. Occasionally I sob uncontrollably. I just let it pass and try to gain my composure afterward as quickly as possible.
I have always imagined my life as me on a flat bottom barge being pulled by a tugboat across the middle of the ocean. There is nothing around but other lives on their own vessels, each going their own direction. The flat bottom barge is really just a giant platform and it’s empty accept for me and a chair. Only those closest to me come aboard my boat and ride with me and spend time with me as I chug forward on my raft toward my final destination. Some friends I have watched sail away all the way to the horizon until I couldn’t see them anymore. I was sad to see then go. My children are permanent residents with our cats. They have lots of room to play and explore…
With the money from Social Security I paid cash for a 2015 black on black BMW GT !!!, an imac desktop computer to learn how to edit and produce content and an iphone 15 pro max 1000GB to take photos and film. I could not be happier with my purchases. I need a gimble, a drone, more ring lights, a water proof case. We keep a collapsible electric scooter in the trunk of the car. You can just zip off somewhere, wherever you are. That’s pretty fun…as long as it’s not raining too much.
My 2015 BMW GT, my gift from God. The car we initially went to purchase, ended up having mechanical issues at the dealership so they offered me this one a significant discount they said, “to make sure that I left happy”. It was the car we were meant to get and the kids and Pepper love it. It’s a rare car and has a classic look to it with it’s long chassis and fade-away hatchback. It is only BMW made with a retractable tail fin, an active rear spoiler. I had it down for some reason in this picture. It has a fantastic stereo system and is a true touring car with lots of space inside. It’s very roomy and smooth on the road and I love to drive it. It is my favorite car I have ever had. I go out of my way to take drives into town. My new car makes me smile when I look at it. Obviously, human’s mode of transportation is a reflection on and of themselves and how it makes them feel.
Before cars, a horse was the main extension of man for transportation. The horse was broken and was taught to trust his master and they bonded and were one with each other. Out in the wilderness, Both depending on each other for their survival. Man and animal, together as one, respecting one another out of nothing but trust and a loving bond. The car is our extension today and it’s measured in the power of horses. I have a bond with my car and it makes me smile when I look at it. I know it is not alive but I treat it with respect because it’s an extension and a reflection of me.
I like to drive slow at cruising speed on the boulevard of my beach town. You need to drive slow here anyway because of the abundance of protected deer that live with us on the Peninsula. They will walk right in front of you and look at you with their sweet eye balls and dare you to hit them. They don’t know any better. They are fun to live with. I buy 50 pound bags of deer corn at Walmart and feed them from my porch. They don’t go far once they are on a steady supply of corn. They will befriend you quickly, It’s like having outside pets with names and antlers.
This is a 10 foot + plank I found the other day from the king tides that turned the beach over. I stashed it away in the dunes so I can use it in the kitchen I want to build out of out large driftwood planks, posts and beams; milled lumber that has been aged by the ocean and time to give it a true beach look. If I clean the pieces up that I have already it would be magazine quality when I am done. But Now I have a friend, a partner and a truck for the beach! Well, almost…
I was little concerned after I bought a touring car about how I was going to move the materials that I was going to need in the future to complete my house. I knew I wasn’t going to have a way to move the large pieces of lumber that I was going need for the construction on my house. One day, I will get my onw truck.
I ran into one of my friends on the beach the other day when I was out on my walk. I don’t remember his name. I told him about how I have been collecting milled lumber from the beach for years, about building the ultimate beach house from salvaged materials, documenting it on film and making a youtube channel to show it, about how we could be partners in the ultimate driftwood quest and retrieval. My beach buddy. It would be epic. He got real goofy so I know he was excited. He offered his second truck as the beach truck. We’ve already decided that we’ll need a wench and cable to pull some of the bigger stuff up and we are going to figure out how to build a swing arm crane to attach to the back to hoist materials.
He is a widower too and I think we both know it will do us good to be friends with each other and see what we can get into at the beach together. He got very excited about that idea and that made me smile. My new friend. I dont remember his name and we cant ever seem to exchange phone numbers, but we promised we would the next time we meet by chance on the beach.
Once upon a time there where 2 guys on a the beach with a truck and a wench…
Happy New Year Angela Christine, my beautiful Angel bride. Ring the bell for me at midnight and I will blow you a kiss of promise into the clouds…
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