The Culture that has been here all the time

I am 78, but as active as if I were 70. There is a lot of mileage left in this old guy. Certain places where I see people in my age group are: 1. old-age homes, 2. Hospitals, and 3. senior centers. Throughout history, families and communities were a blend of all age groups. My family used to be like that, but it seems less common in our country over time. Just two decades back, when my late wife and I belonged to a large church, if someone died, the widow or widower was immediately supported, even to the point of a rapid remarriage. It seems contrary to what I thought, but it seemed a new spouse was waiting in the wings when one was nearing their demise. Even this is not enough to send me back to religion. I keep repeating I want a companion, but not at the price of my integrity. pixabay pix

Last night I dreamed you were back again
Larger than life again, holding me tight again
Placing those same kisses on my brow
Sweeter than ever now, lord I remember how
Couldn't get enough of kissing, do you know how much you're missing

No you don't, but I do

 

The irony of this dream? It was my second wife in the dream, not my late wife or my first. I don't know if they are still alive, since the family hasn't been in touch. Those kids have their reasons, and they are wrong. The rest probably don't know where I live.

I just like this song and Mary anyway.

Recently, I was told that since I was married three times and had a love life throughout my life, now that I am seventy-eight and my wife has died, I should not seek another companion/lover because I have had more than some people in this world. I know what I had was fulfilling, and I have been grateful, but should I give up and accept my fate as the song lyrics state (Is that All there Is?).

My kids and stepkids especially do not wish me well.  We tried to raise them with rules and teach them responsibility, while the other parents let them do as they wished without much guidance. So what do you think about their attitude? No surprise.

Dearest Muse,

I, for now, must love you in my imagination. You are with me when I rise and have my morning coffee, let the dog out in the backyard, and feed my cat. Together we survey the calendar and plan our day. We see which chores must be accomplished and whether we have any appointments.

Without warning, you put your arms around me and say, "I love you." I pause and say, "I love you more." We laugh together.

We are grateful and happy to have another day together.

Maybe we'll shop for some fresh food or take a ride through the hills, forest, and farms. We will stop occasionally to talk to animals close enough to the road.

I hold you in my heart and cherish you wherever you are at this very moment.

Love

Andron (image pixabay)

For most of my life, I have been honest to a fault. No, I am human despite my brother's, some of whom think I am an alien. I did smoke pot in my teens, and I drank alcohol starting around fourteen, when I also began smoking cigarettes. I stole some food when my mom was raising me and two of my brothers. I took a tool now and then. What am I trying to say? I am real.

I began to understand as I was aging, and my wife's disease was surely taking her away from me. Not in death long before that. I knew I did not want to end my days alone. I began to look for a woman to love and love me. So here is the real me too.

I still look young for my age. I am active, and my mind is very sharp. My capacity to love a woman has increased with life experience. BUT: I have survived congestive heart failure since 2005 and continue to do so with healthcare. I abstain from alcohol, which affects me negatively in more than one way. I wear hearing aids. My left eye has a cataract beginning to form. I have arthritis here and there, so I use those joints to keep them working, but the most challenging is that I probably need my right hip replaced.  

So if a muse and lover wants me despite all that, you have to take me as I am. pixabay image

One blog reader commented that caring for my wife for years inflicted trauma upon me. All through my care, my counselors and doctors warned that caring most likely would harm me. I didn't want to believe them or just ignored them; anyway, I gave care for my late wife with little regard for "me".

Seeing doctors one by one since she passed the tally of negative effects is beginning to form a picture. With my stubborn attitude and modern healthcare, I will heal and go on living. That is my mindset.

Humanity, past, present, and future, has reacted this way and must; it is in our genes.

I will love once more. It may not look like my love in the past, but it will be deep, and I will commit and care.

I have plenty of artwork plans, and I will keep playing my guitar and singing old songs (my cat loves it; he snuggles behind me as I play and sing, and my dog relaxes). That is a form of love I need.

Second Nude Painting: mixed media.   NOT FOR SALE.

I intended to post this in the morning, but I am hoping when I wake, I will be more optimistic than when I got up this morning. One nostalgic day a week is enough. Some Days I miss her more than others. I selected some photos of her face to use as a model in order to paint an image of her. She always called me Daddy, and when I read blogs on this site in which subs refer to their Dom as Daddy, it can sadden me. There is a hole in my heart and my life.

Mt dear blog readers, I have good and bad to report concerning my health checks yesterday, no surprise.

I have several arthritic joints, but my hip surprised the doctors because I keep moving, unlike many of their patients who complain and want fast answers. Mind over matter works for me. "I keep moving." I play guitar to overcome arthritis in my fingers (LOL). I eat lemons to keep on singing LOL.  I have a strong will, that is how I avoided a heart transplant from 2005 - 2010. Today, the CT scan of my aorta makes me a little nervous, but like other signs of aging, I "keep keeping on".

My lover and muse, wherever you are, I am not impatient, but do not wait too long to come to me. I need you.

The idea of a domestic sub who can help me in everyday life was presented to me when I was weighed down as a caregiver for eight years as my wife declined. It sounded great until the woman who introduced me to BDSM tricked me into giving her money ( some others did as well). I truly need a domestic sub now, as my housework is not what it used to be. I only just began to appreciate BDSM when things became more critical in my caregiver role.

If I were to meet a woman who was a submissive, domestic, and kinky BDSM woman, I would be overjoyed. I would work hard to make our relationship work, probably fall in love, and practice more kinky things and offer her what good things I could.

"Good morning, dear.  I hope you slept well and had pleasant dreams. Here is a hug and a kiss. I am making coffee, and I will be making breakfast soon. Is there anything special I can make you? I have bagels and muffins, and the best fresh eggs I could buy. When it is ready, do you want me to bring it to you, or will you come down to eat it?"