I lost my marbles this year.
My husband died after seven years of fighting a rare disease that was similar to Multiple Sclerosis. Still, it came as a shock when I found him that morning not breathing. The paramedics came and were not able to revive him. I cried. Everyone was very kind. My neighbor, Laurie, came over to help while the medical examiner came and finally the undertakers. They let me have a few minutes alone with him before they took him. I cried while I held him. I cried while I touched and caressed his face. But, looking at him I realized that he looked more well and more at peace than he had in years. It was so hard for us both the past few years because he couldn’t walk or stand and had trouble even sitting up. Also, he had lost his hearing. Still, I’d take it all back just to have my Manny with me.
Then, for a number of reasons, I had to move. Packing and getting rid of things is not my forte, so, my friend, Sue, and my son helped me. Sue came over several times a week and bravely sorted through my decades of accumulated treasures and junk. I don’t know how I would have downsized without her. As we were packing, we came across my marble collections. Gathered in different boxes and tins, there were several hundreds. I had cat’s eyes, comets, clearies, tri-lites, and many others. Below are more types with their names.
She was impressed by my collection and thought they were beautiful and so, she carefully packed them in a box. I was so relieved that she didn’t see them as silly or want me to get rid of them. But, then my son came home for a weekend to help me pack. He thought that I hadn’t downsized enough and looked in some boxes that Sue and I had packed to see if there was anything that I should be getting rid of. And then he came across the marbles.
“What are these for? You don’t need marbles, you don’t play with them.” He said while he quickly took them out of the packed box.
“I..I collect them. They are pretty.” I anxiously replied.
Although a great son (and an incredible help during this difficult time), he saw no need for an adult woman to have marbles and so off they went to the thrift store. And that’s how I literally lost my marbles. I miss my marbles. They sparkled and glowed in the light and felt cool and smooth to the touch. I liked the feeling of rolling them around in my hands. But it’s nothing compared with losing my Manny.
Soon after, I figuratively lost my marbles and ended up in the psych ward of a hospital. But that is another story.