Barbara J. Hamby

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Reminiscing

Fifty-five years ago tonight I married my first husband, the father of my daughter. He is now deceased, as are the other two men I later married. I guess I should be grateful to have outlived the three men who played important roles in my life. My second husband was the father of my son. Each of the first two marriages lasted ten years and ended in divorce. My son’s father died a few years later. My daughter’s father died recently.

I was still legally married to my third husband when he passed away a few years ago, although we had been separated for many years. None of the problems with those alliances are important any longer. I hope that I can let them rest in peace, along with the former partners. The memoirs I’ve been writing contain many stories that may or may not remain as part of those years. It’s a tough decision to determine what or what not to share.

Writing the stories is definitely therapy. Sharing them may serve no purpose.

Whisking forward to the present, I still have not unpacked the laptop computer that contains the travel logs of our recent trip. When I’m more rested, I’ll tackle that. It is flattering that friends and relatives seem anxious to read them.

The virus or whatever caused the symptoms I had on the cruise, is leaving my body through the upper respiratory system, causing some difficulties there. Traveling is often hazardous to health. I’m not sure whether to give up traveling or give up trying to stay healthy all the time. Decisions, decisions.