Time passes, whether we like it or not, and it is now time for me to spend time with the widows and widowers at the senior center when I can afford an aide to watch my wife. pixabay.com
Time passes, whether we like it or not, and it is now time for me to spend time with the widows and widowers at the senior center when I can afford an aide to watch my wife. pixabay.com
How do some people carry on? Get knocked down and repeatedly get up? Want to give up, but don't?
My wife is tough and keeps going through her disease.
I get up each morning ready to surrender to the Universe, but find my wife still here, and I forge ahead as usual.
We must thank our ancestors for passing on the genes that have given us these strengths. Reviewing the areas in Europe from where our ancestors came, I get a sense of this. Even during the Great Wars of the twentieth century, many family members were part of the greatest generation who, some say, saved Western Civilization.
Another day and my wife and I are still here, though the peaceful era of recent history must have spoiled our children; they can not even bear to see my wife in her condition, let alone help.
Maybe schools deny the horrors of the twentieth century. Sadly, there are places in the world still experiencing the worst that humans can inflict on others. Pixabay image. Where have all the flowers gone?
Since 2017, I have been my wife's only caregiver as she steadily became more afflicted by dementia and associated maladies. Still, I recently turned 78 (she is 70), and I realized a stark truth: The day when I will need someone to be my caregiver is probably not far off, and there are absolutely no candidates to step up for the task. Like the old man in a movie, I do not accept living in any facility as it is not for me.
SEE: Longmire episode "Burned Up My Tears," the fifth episode of the sixth season, the retired sheriff, Lucian Connally
If you are a long-time reader of my blog, you are familiar with my life, successes, and failures. When I became my wife's long-term solo caregiver in 2017, it didn't take long for her to become asexual. I tried many ways to have a lover, all but one attempt failed, and it ended too soon.
What did I learned about BDSM?
At best, I am a switch and was duped into a scam that supposedly trained me to be a master for a price (money). I have always had a kinky side, and both my wife and I were fond of sex. I still am if I only had a lover. My wife, when she was well, was undoubtedly submissive, yet taught me things I was not aware of.
My new plan? I have to pay for an aide to watch my wife so she can stay safe while I attend the senior citizen center organization in town, maybe twice a month. Why? I have no social life, and perhaps I will meet a woman whom I like, and she will like me too. All my online acquaintances proved to be fake. I believe some deception, and the longer I chat with them, the more money I have to spend to continue. They claim they need and want a lover, but never even visit for a chat on my porch.
Having a libido at 78 for me is a curse, not a blessing. pixabay.com
Many of you may know I watch a lot of British TV on Acorn and BritBox, the plots and characters intrigue me, and the endings often surprise me. One theme that weaves its way through many stories is the identity of the biological parents of a particular character. Sometimes it is a relative, sometimes a coworker, or even an in vitro fertilization doctor. I just read a story in Newsweek that explains a father learned he did not sire his two children. The story doesn't clarify whether it was a deliberate act by the mother or not. It did upset his world.
In real life, this happens, and it can create a mess, especially when an inheritance is involved. The other side of the coin? If a parent is not fertile or if parents are attempting to seek specific hereditary results for their offspring.
In the ancient past, this was probably not as important as the continuation of a family, clan, or tribe (or even a species). In this old man's opinion, the truth should always be shared with the child. My son's marriage to an adopted woman broke apart when her parents revealed to her that she was adopted.
pixabay.com
A man desires a woman, or a woman desires a man. Does it matter? I say NO!
Within us is the desire for the other, and it can not be beaten out, ruled out, forbidden, or hidden. In this community, I extend my desire description to include and appreciate the individual makeup we each have—multiple, monogamous, vanilla, gay, bi, or full-blown experience with BDSM.
Love is real. Love is an action word. Love manifests itself in a kaleidoscope of emotions and variations. I will admit that in my approximately 70 years of sexual experimentation, disappointment, and joy, I am still learning and willing to engage in the physical erotic love and keep my romantic love at the same time.
I will be mild and say, as far as I can tell, most religions hide reality and practice hypocrisy. When revealed, people feel shocked, ashamed, and dismayed (at least they fake the response).
I am sad for people who deny themself the pleasures and joys of love, erotic and romantic, and any such combination, from the chicken coop, where I asked questions of myself at five years old, to the annual church bazaar, where I noticed all the girls flocking around the younger, new priest, hanging out. It doesn't require a genius to read the writing on the wall of life.
Preserved vegetables and condiments are ok when done with vinegar, BUT NOT EVEN CLOSE TO NUTRITIOUS (think probiotics to the max) AS WHEN FERMENTED, like real pickles and sourkraut. pixabay images.
It was the summer of 2005, and I lay in an emergency room near death. My heart failed without warning, reason, or cause: idiopathic. My doctor's assistant assumed I was too young for that, so he pronounced I had asthma, and by the time my actual doctor discovered the error, my injection fraction was 10 and 9would have been fatal. The ER staff turned pale (a lighter shade of pale). For five years, I was a number waiting for a heart transplant. I had three heart specialists and had been examined in three major NJ hospitals. One of the cardiologists was one of NJ's premier doctors. He let me research the meds and make my choices. I made all my own food and followed their advice and instructions. I was able to be removed from the heart waiting list, but remained "on early retirement". That is why I became the "house husband".
So when my wife was diagnosed with early-onset dementia, I just upped my efforts as a house husband and eased into my current job as her only caregiver.
My recent cardiological tests pronounced me as having (not a perfect heart), but a heart of a normal man nearing 80 years old.
Here is to medical science and the power of the mind over matter.
My cat Sunny asked Boomie if she wanted to know a secret.
Why Would a Woman Buy A used Car? For that matter, why would a woman accept a used horse as a gift?
It has served its owner well and continues to run smoothly, knows the way home on its own, and is low maintenance, and so on.
So. I am a seasoned husband and lover, and I still run well, know things, including how to be a great lover. With a vast, eclectic set of experiences and interests, I would make a great companion.
And I can cook too.
Jim
Today I am 78, and I have been hoping for sex from a FWB or even an acquaintance. Not so my wife's illness has rendered her asexual for at least five years now, and I remain the only caregiver so that I can host an acquaintance or a FWB, but I have come up empty too long again. I briefly had a FWB about 14 months ago, and that was my last sexual encounter.
It seems crazy on these BDSM sites and BDSM meetup sites, all the women I see are liberal and playful, but not here and not for me.
I hope a year from now I won't have to repeat this entry.