My husband and I have been married 57 years, spending the last 40 on top of a ridge line ond 8 acres in Arkansas, semi-retired, creating critters like this and decorations for our mailbox out of sheet metal.

We got very ill at the same time in February of 2025 and had to ask our son to come from Thailand to come help us. We made the decision to fully retire and move to Thailand to be close to our son.

Our son told us we could each take one suitcase and one small backpack to make the trip. It took us a while for that to settle in. How in the world do you pack 57 years of married life into one suitcase and a backpack?

We had a large home (two stories and a basement plus a fully equipped shop where we made things.) It wasn’t the ‘stuff’ so much as we felt we were leaving our IDENTITIES behind. I closed my Etsy shop. We gave away a lot of our belongings to our friends. We sold a bunch privately before arranging for an auction for the rest of the things, plus vehicles, tools, things we had made, and more. We put the house and land up for auction, as well, which would happen after we left.

What was gut-wrenching was how much of our sense of self-worth was contained in our home. My art room where I had gathered supplies and made things for about 40 years. My husband’s book collection, gathered over his whole life and carefully moved from one location to another for years. The critters we had fashioned out of scrap metal together that lived all over the yard.

A collection of over 40 mailbox decorations all cut out and painted by us and displayed all year long. The flowers and raised square foot garden - and the list goes on.

We were moving to a place where we knew nothing about the culture, didn’t speak the language, had no idea where we would live (though we depended on our son for things like that) and our health was the worst it had ever been. My husband was 81 and I was 78. We were facing a 24 hour trip on various planes, in various airports in precarious health.

The worst thing emotionally, was trying to find good homes for our beloved pets, a yellow lab named Amber and a black cat named Jet, aka ‘Monster Cat.” Thankfully we found beautiful homes with loving people for both of them.

The fact remained that we needed to fit everything we were going to take to a new country in one suitcase and a backpack. Happily, Thailand is mostly different shades of summer all year long, so the clothing issue wasn’t as bad as it could have been. I had two closets full of clothes, though, so deciding what to take was really difficult. Medicines, travel supplies, extra clothes in the backpack, just in case…

Someone suggested that I pack ONE THING that meant home to me and that would give me comfort. My suitcase was already crammed full, but I listened. I decided to bring a small, furry, soft articulated bear and crammed it in with the rest. He now sits on my desk in Thailand and I find myself holding him every day. This was the best piece of moving advice I’ve ever had.

Though the move and its context was a bit traumatic, shedding all we had or were in Arkansas was a ultimately a gift. It changed our ideas on what is important, the relative importance of ‘things,’ the feeling of freedom you get as you walk away from problems and what had become for us a stressful environment, and a recognition that who we are didn’t depend on what we had or left there, but who we were as people, facing an exciting future in a fascinating place.

The dreaded email arrived this morning. I had been expecting it, kind of, but the reality of it still made my heart drop to the floor. Cathy, my long-time friend was gone. After the shock wore off a bit, I wrote the sender back, thanking her for her incredible kindness in taking the time to let me know. I know from experience that this is one of the hardest emails to write because it shatters hearts and leaves dull mourning in its wake.

So I sat there, tears running down my face, feeling the loss of my friend. And then it occurred to me that this wasn’t about me. I was flooded with feelings from all directions.

First, I was profoundly happy that she wasn’t suffering anymore. She had oral cancer - the same thing from which my mom died - and we both remembered that. She was scared and hurting. It got worse from there. So her suffering is over and she can be at peace now.

I was friends with her mom before Cathy and I became friends. Her mom, Ann, and I taught together in the Tulsa Public Schools. When I came to visit Ann, Cathy made a point of dropping everything so that she could take us places. One memory in particular was the day we spent at the Aquarium, close to Tulsa. I hadn’t even known it existed, and it was a glorious experience.

Cathy and I became closer over the years communicating via email, since we were rarely in the same place at the same time, particularly after we lost her mom/my friend, Ann. We came to truly love and care about each other - our emails encompassing some 15 years or so.

Second, I was flooded with feelings of how lucky I was to have shared even a part of her life. She was creative and fun, loving and sweet. She had a home she was determined to renovate one room at a time. She had inherited furniture - some she loved, other pieces she hated, but she refused to get rid of any of it. She worked in her yard like a Trojan, wanting a profuse display of flowers all year long. She fought several illnesses while I knew her, keeping her spirits up, determined to beat whatever it was and get well enough to continue with the things she loved. I loved her sense of humor I still smile as I’m sitting here, thinking of some of our inside, running jokes.

I told some people this morning what had happened, and even the people who know me well were surprised that I was planning to have a ‘normal’ day, staying as busy as possible. This is my way of honoring Cathy’s memory. She would be asking me what I would plant in my garden (if I had one now that I’ve moved to Thailand) or defending her decision to keep yet another inherited piece of furniture that weighed a ton, was ugly as sin, whose drawers wouldn’t open and which was missing the end piece for its leg. She wouldn’t want me to sit here saying, “Poor me.”

So, I received the dreaded email which knocked me flat. I say it was also a “gift” because it forced me to keep my head on straight and remember what was special about our friendship and to honor her memory by getting on with my life, especially today. She knows that I will always carry her in my heart. She knows that I’m happy her suffering is over. I only wish I could plant some flowers in her garden in the spring and hug her neck.

My mother’s parents lived in an old family home in Nevada, Missouri when I was 12 and younger. I looked forward to my time with them, visiting by myself, as if I were an only child, for two glorious weeks each summer.

There was a ‘front room’ where I stayed, that made me feel like a princess, with a big poster bed with a canopy, windows all around, and a closet with a sink and toilet all my own! I felt like a ‘young woman’ while there, getting to do lots of things I didn’t get to do at home, like walking down to the square by myself and window shopping, getting a cherry coke at the fountain at the local drug store, stopping by the stores where we knew the owners and visiting, stopping at the local library and checking out a book on the way home.

It’s amazing that the neighbors didn’t send out a firing squad because one of my favorite things to do was sit on the front porch swing and sing. The same song over and over if I wanted, not aware I might be annoying and driving the neighbors nuts. I was a princess and sang, “Someday My Prince Will Come.” :0)

My grandparents had a super ugly dog named, “Unkie” - a pekinese with a smooshed in face that didn’t really seem to like anyone and snorted a lot. What he DID like was ice cubes. My grandmother would fill a bowl for him and he would avidly crunch his way to the bottom making a really awful mess, loving every minute.

I would watch my grandmother as she did her chores, climbing down the stairs to the basement to do the laundry, hanging the wash on the clothesline in the back yard, and more. I would watch her with great interest as she let me watch her get ready to go to ‘town,’ putting on hose and heels, a nice dress, and carefully applying makeup. We would walk to town, do our errands, visit people, and walk back home.

Two of my favorite things were (1) taking Unkie for a walk every night to the Dairy Queen to get an ice cream cone and (2) my grandmother making fried chicken. Two weeks of Heaven for me each summer.

What was amazing about all of this, besides the fact that my grandmother devoted an entire month of her time two weeks to me and then two weeks to my brother each summer was the fact that she was also the sole caregiver of my grandfather who was bedridden with Multiple Sclerosis. I never remember him standing up and when I finally saw a picture of the two of them dressed up for a date, my mouth dropped open. They were quite the dashing pair, fashionistas, dancers, and totally in love.

She did everything for him, waiting on him from early in the morning until they went to sleep. She did all the chores of taking care of the house and the yard with no help. They existed on his pension, a meager sum she stretched until it screamed, making sure she had the money to spoil her grandchildren. She did all the laundry, going up and down the basement steps every day, keeping him and his area pristine, with never a bedsore. She helped him into the wheelchair so he could travel around seeing something besides his bedroom, even wheeling his chair up and down the street in good weather. She cut his hair, shaved him, did everything he needed, somehow got him to the doctor for appointments - and STILL cooked three meals a day for them and then my brother or myself when we were there. We were unaware of all she was doing. We were kids and oblivious, thinking only of how much we loved being with them.

She did this for years, never complaining (that I ever heard). I had some inkling of my grandfather’s suffering at one point and started having nightly nightmares. I would dream that I would wake up, see the shadow of my grandfather in his wheelchair in our hall at home. Since I knew it was impossible for him to be there, I would get up and go to him. There was a knife sticking out of his back and he was gone. I was worried I was losing my mind, but finally decided that it was because I wanted his suffering to end and it was the only thing I could think of that would end it.

When he died, I thought my grandmother could finally relax and live a life where she got to do some of the things she would have done had she had the time or the money. She was getting quite forgetful, though, and we moved her to a nursing home close to my parents. Once she didn’t have to carry all the responsibility of taking care of my grandfather, she simply lost the will to live, I guess. She went downhill rapidly, to the point that she didn’t recognize me or the fact that I had brought our newborn son to meet his great grandmother. She loved babies, though, and though she didn’t know WHO she was meeting, she enjoyed it, nonetheless.

My grandmother remains a role model, both for how special she made her grandchildren feel when they came to visit, how much love and devotion she showed her husband all the time he needed her, and for showing me how a loving life should be lived.

Rhineback Animal Hospital

I was pregnant 5 times. 2 miscarriages, then we had our son, another miscarriage, then we had our daughter whom we lost to SIDS in 1981 when she was two months old. With each of these pregnancies and births, I gained weight that stayed with me. Several years ago (at 5’4”) - I topped out at 205 pounds.

I tried all different kinds of things to lose the lard, but the thing I actually made the most time for, and got the best at, was making excuses for not losing the weight. I worked full time, my husband wouldn’t cooperate, I didn’t have the time to exercise working full time - yattayattayatta… The bottom line, I stayed fat.

This is me (on the right of the picture.

In fits and starts I managed to lose some of the weight finally, but still had a long way to go before I moved out of the ‘obese’ range of the BMI Chart. My husband and I got sick in Arkansas in February of 2025. The end result of that was that our son flew to us from Thailand and helped us survive. (I went to the ER and my heart stopped twice while I was there for the flu and low blood oxygen. They installed a pacemaker, giving me a second chance at life.) We decided to sell or give away everything and retire in Thailand, living close to our son.

2 weeks after the move my husband had a stroke and is now in a nursing home here in Thailand. That was the final piece I needed to FINALLY get serious about trying to regain my health, starting with losing the rest of the lard. A doctor visit here confirmed that I needed to exercise and lose my extra weight to try to get runaway blood pressure under control.

I have lost 44 pounds in the past year since the move to Thailand. I certainly won’t win any prizes for speed of losing my lard, but I HAVE finally reached my goal weight of 110 pounds. (Actually I went down to 107, and decided to try to maintain a range of about 3 pounds around 110 for the rest of my life.) My BMI chart is smiling now.

So what finally worked?

1. MINDSET - first and foremost. I was doing this for ME, no one else. I would lose the lard, develop better habits, eat healthier, and exercise. I enlisted the help of our son. (We live in different condos in the same building in Thailand.)

2. CHANGE IN EATING HABITS - I decided that I wanted to do something sustainable. I didn’t want to have foods I couldn’t eat anymore. That led to too much craving. I wanted to be able to eat with newly made friends and my son without causing them extra work to find someplace that served the food I could eat. I decided to eat two meals a day - breakfast and dinner. AND, since my son likes to have food delivered, I asked him to order ONE breakfast or dinner and I would eat 1/3 of it. He would eat the rest. Between meal snacks: a low sugar iced latte each afternoon, or a chocolate drink at a local place we like to go after visiting my husband at the nursing home. I also eat a piece of pork jerky if I get really hungry in the afternoon. I drink lots more water. Sometimes I feel as if my eyeballs are floating, but I’m getting used to it. I do try to avoid TOO many empty carbs, but the portion control seems to take care of that.

3. MOVING MORE - I asked my son if I could go to the gym with him every morning. Yeah, I know. It sounds like I lost my mind, doesn’t it, since I’m the poster child for “couch potato.” It’s another mindset thing, though. I have to get up at 4:30 every morning in order to get my act together to be ready to go with my son to the gym. The routine gets my day going. I have a balance problem since my surgery to install my pacemaker, and I’m walking on the treadmill to try to retrain my mind and body. It’s working, but very slowly. When I first started, I held onto the handlebars on the treadmill for dear life. Since then, I have increased my speed, although no prizes there, either. I am also able to walk without holding on to the handlebars anymore. If I do start feeling unsteady, I’ve given myself permission to hold on a minute or two. I’m experimenting with increasing speed as well as the incline settings now.

   Besides the treadmill, I either do old lady yoga stretches (I AM 79 after all) or exercises with water bottles for my back and arms on alternate days.

   Lately I’ve been walking down the stairs in the building a couple of times a day. I’m also walking UP a flight every so often. I hope to start routinely walking up and coming down the stairs between our floors soon (unless I have big armfuls of ‘stuff’ I’m carrying. I’m holding onto the stair railing to be able to grab it if I lose my balance while building strength.

4. STAYING BUSY - finally, staying busy, reshaping my life now that I’m living alone, moving from one fun thing to another, a big grin on my face, as I try to learn new things, write posts for my blog, try to teach myself to draw and then painting the sketches, trying to relearn the playing the guitar and singing I did a hundred years or so ago, working a jigsaw puzzle, trying to learn Thai phrases, playing on the computer, listening to music, reading, and more. I’m too busy to think about food, or if I DO, it’s only to grab a bottle of water and maybe a piece of pork jerky to tide me over until dinner.

   The biggest thing I want to tell you is that getting control of your health is the biggest gift you can give yourself. Feeling good, being able to do what you’d like to do, enjoying all this beautiful world has to offer is priceless. It’s not easy. It’s a one-day-at-a-time with firm resolve thing. I hope that if you would like to change your life, you’ll realize you CAN do it. If anything I’ve said here resonates with you, gets you started on a better life, I’m delighted. I’m certainly no expert, but I’m here to answer any questions or concerns you might have. Good luck!
   

   

A year ago my husband and I moved to Thailand to retire and live close to our son. 2 weeks after the move my husband had a stroke and now is confined to a nursing home here. To say our retirement plans were blown to smithereens is a vast understatement.

I was living in a new country, didn’t speak the language or know how to get around. We live in the same condo building as our son, but I’m living alone for the first time in my life, away from my husband of over 57 years. I have never been one to be bored, yet I have to admit I was a bit disenfranchised.

Mindset is a powerful thing. In this case I used it to decide, “I’m going to love it here.” (My mother-in-law did this years ago when she moved to a retirement facility in the States and made it happen. I have always admired that.)

I started making an inventory of my emotions, my needs, what I like to do, what I want my life to look like - and then started to take one step at a time to shape my life into something that will bring me joy.

I started going to the gym every morning with our son. (That meant I have to get up at 4:30 every morning - GASP!) I’m walking a mile on the treadmill there to improve the sense of balance I lost when my heart stopped twice on Feb. 11th of 2025 and they had to install a pacemaker, giving me a second chance at life. I do other exercises later in the day at home because your health is the most important thing.

I missed trying to create art. I’m now trying to teach myself to draw what I see and then paint the sketches. This is very challenging, but the fact that I don’t have to try to sell this artwork takes the pressure off and the pure pleasure of the process remains. I hadn’t worked a jigsaw puzzle in many years because it aggravated my husband to have one around. I now have a puzzle table right in the middle of my place and enjoy working on it some every day. I gave my guitar to our son over 40 years ago. He bought me a used guitar and I’m trying to relearn the chords, progressions, and try to regain what is now a sick frog voice.

I enjoy finding things on the net I think are wonderful and share them with my blog readers. I love reading their comments and responding, then searching for more to share. I’m fascinated by Thailand. The people go out of their way to be kind and make me feel welcome. I’m trying to learn Thai phrases and honor their culture. I cram as much joy into each day as possible, moving from one fun thing to another around visits to my husband in the nursing home.

By having a firm mindset, practicing gratitude for all I have on a daily basis, and doing everything I can to reshape my life into one that gives me joy, I am creating a new world for myself.