Today as I proof the paper I read an
'In Memory' ad from a wife about her deceased husband. I remember
this woman coming in to the office for the past two years to place
similar ads in the paper on the anniversary date of her husbands'
death. She's not a woman you would take note of if you were walking
down the street: she's a senior lady, who, if anything comes across
as a bit androgynous. But in her resided a great love and now a great
memory of the love she and her husband shared. When I think of her, I
think of what I am missing.
I have had thoughts of what my life as
a single woman would mean emotionally those two previous years when
her 'In Memory' ad came across my desk but this year, those thoughts
are tinged with a new potency due to a recent break up I had with a
short-term boyfriend. While this relationship was not long, only a
few months, it did open my eyes to a life that I had pretty much
assumed was not part of my path; a life with a companion.
For a long time I have made my peace
with the idea that I would be a single person, then as life happened,
that I would be a single person with children.
Being single is what seems simplest to
me. I haven't had to accept all those little things that inevitably
drive me crazy, or make time for another person other then my
children. I have not had to
deal with complications, awkwardness, deceptions and other things
that often accompany a 'relationship'. I have been able to focus on
my little family.
But sometimes I feel I need a break
from my little family and that is when new men typically come into
my life. For the past five years any relationship I have had has
always been one that was outside of my regular life. The men I have
dated have not become part of the fabric of my day-to-day life. When
I was with them it was like I was a tourist on holiday.
And as they say, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
That being said, this latest and
shortest relationship, was something different. First of all, he
didn't annoy me. And that is a big step forward for me. In any man I
have ever been involved with there have been minor things that they
did that drove me to distraction; things as simple as how they would
pronounce a word with an elongated vowel to as crushing as dirty
socks on my side of the bed (you can see now why I have never been
married). This man let his dog eat off the dishes—I didn't care. He
used double negatives—I didn't care. And most importantly, he
didn't read my work-- and I didn't care.
So I felt like I had made progress, had
gotten past some of my 'issues'. Unfortunately, maybe he had not
gotten past some of his.
Today as I read the 'In Memory' ad from
a loving wife I felt a little sad that I wouldn't have this man to
tell the days tales to, wouldn't call him this evening to talk about
his trip to the city, and wouldn't have a day when I would be missing
the love I lost.
The good news is I wrote this.
