Welcome to the Misadventures of Widowhood blog!

In January of 2012 my soul mate of 42 years passed away after nearly 12 years of living with severe disabilities due to a stroke. I survived the first year after Don’s death doing what most widows do---trying to make sense of my world turned upside down. The pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties are well documented in this blog.

Now that I’m a "seasoned widow" the focus of my writing has changed. I’m still a widow looking through that lens but I’m also a woman searching for contentment, friends and a voice in my restless world. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. I say I just write about whatever passes through my days---the good, bad and the ugly. Comments welcome and encouraged. Let's get a dialogue going! Jean

Thursday, June 4, 2015

Bootie Calls, Grandsons and Pickle Jars


I met my new neighbor. He’s in his mid-twenties and is getting married in August. Until then he and his fiancée will be cleaning and painting and be-still-my-heart his future brother-in-law is going to take down the two story deck that I’ve hated looking at since it was built. He said his insurance agent told him it was a liability---no kidding---and “it makes no sense without the above ground swimming pool,” he added. It didn’t make any sense with the swimming pool either but I was too busy yelling “hallelujah!” to tell him that. I’m thrilled I’ll have my long-range view back again. Mr. New Guy seems like a nice kid. He was chatty with an old person---that would be me---and that’s a good starting place to judge his personality. At least it is in my world where too many young people would rather pretend old people don’t exist than to talk to us. Perhaps they think wrinkles and saggy skin might be catching if they stand too close? Not to mention we’re boring since so many in my peer age group can’t converse in gigabits, acronyms and hashtags. Forget the Botox, ladies. Sew an Apple iPhone 6 to your hand and you'd look twenty years younger!

Wednesday I went to another Red Hat Society tea that should be renamed a coffee but that wouldn’t fit the image most people have in their heads of old ladies in funny hats and gobs of jewelry sitting around with their pinky fingers pointed upward. There were fifteen of us all talking at once and few of us were listening to anyone else. However, I did pick up the details to our next walk-about in two weeks. We’re going to a huge barn out in the boondocks for lunch and shopping farm products that must be imported from out of state because we don’t have any growing here in Michigan yet. Maybe the barn will be filled with jams and jellies from last year’s crops? Stay tuned; I’ll no doubt write about the experience since it’s probably too soon in my relationship with my new neighbor for me to play show-and-tell with him when I get back. Just think, if he turns out to be a grandson-type who enjoys talking with me over our property line I’ll have no need to blog in the future! 

Now I’ll tell you a story about three widows (my age) who all lost their husbands in the same time frame as I did. One has recently found a guy to sleep with, another is desperately looking for an old dude to marry and the third one found a guy-friend who gives good hugs and has kissable cheeks. Sorry, if you expected a moral to the story or punchline here, I don’t have one. I just thought it was interesting to compare how they are each moving on compared to my journey into the unknown. Two of these women are longing for love to come their way again, though neither one is anywhere near it yet unless you want to redefine a bootie call. The third---if you can believe her, and I do---just enjoys a good hug once in a while and doesn’t want it to go any farther. If I threw myself into the story I’d be a woman longing for a less complicated relationship, a grandson-like relationship with a guy who lives close enough to open pickle jars and who'd laugh at my adventures the Land of Growing Old. If Mr. New Guy Next Door doesn’t fill that bill I’m going to have to buy a jar opener. Man, I’m getting weak! 

“Fill the bill.” I just tried to google the origins of that phrase without any luck. I'm guessing it comes from a point in British theater history when they tried to fill the play bills up with acts. “That last act fills the bill, sorry you’ll have to wait until next month to audition.” It bugs me when Google doesn’t have the answers I seek! I’ll bet if I had the Apple iPhone 6 sewn on my hand Siri would know if I’m guessing correctly. She knows everything. And, yes, I'm jealous of her operating system or whatever it is that makes Siri, Siri. ©

12 comments:

  1. I would prefer the grandson type living next door because that means, soon there might be a wee baby to play with, HOWEVER--all the younger's live on the south side of the park and us old people on this side, because we don't like noise and too much activity going on--just other old people's yappy dogs driving us nuts. Hugs are nice and so is home made chicken noodle soup, waiting by the door when one gets home from a grandchild's band concert. Stay tuned. HAH!

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    1. Oh! My! Gosh! Nothing says romance like homemade chicken soup. LOL

      I'll let you know how the grandson-type works out. It might take all summer but I'm going to work on it. His girlfriend I haven't met or seen yet, but I usually get along better with males than females anyway. Though a granddaughter might me nice, too. You stay tuned, too.

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    2. I've always gotten along better with males too. I think they are less complicated.

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    3. Is that it? This would be an interesting topic to write about.

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  2. I'm with you on this one. I've the best husband in the world and there isn't going to be a second place man in my life. Thankyouverymuch.

    Have a fabulous day. ☺

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    1. I married later in life than a lot of people and I know how hard it was to find a good guy in the first place. I don't have enough time to left on earth to waste time looking for another needle in the haystack. But more power to those men and women looking who actually do find another round of love.

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  3. I suppose love really can happen after a husband's death, but I cannot imagine it. I still have my guy and every day I am grateful. Yet in imagining myself alone, I NEVER think of me with another man. First, how could anyone compare? Second, who needs it? Relationships are so much work even in the best of them -- the learning curve, the changes, the negotiations, the compromises and truces. Maybe I'm spoiled, my man and I almost never disagree and we've developed a fairly highly honed and mature way to work out differences. I'd never want to start over. What I can imagine is a "buddy" -- someone I might like to hang around with or go places with, but with no strings (or bed-sharing) attached. But mostly I imagine me with my gal-pals and maybe a small dog. :) I also think that young couple next door is rich with possibilities for you. So glad it wasn't the frat house moving in! :)

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    1. That's exactly the way I feel about a second husband or even dating. It takes a long time to make a relationship work like a well oiled machine and I don't have it in me to go through the trial and error dating thing. I see widows on the widow's website who don't think they can be happy without a man. I honestly don't get that kind of dependency and pressure to finding another person. Gal-pals, dogs yeh, bring them on but I don't want to hang my happiness on another person.

      I am hopeful the young couple next door will be friendly. So far it looks good. One of their mother's waved at me today as she went by. LOL

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  4. My son has the iPhone 6. and keep urging me to get it because it's bigger, and maybe I could actually see it. I don't know. H is lusting after a new phone, but I'm so lame about keeping them close by.

    I hope your neighbor turns out to be a grandson-type, but you're not allowed to stop blogging. No, no, no.

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    1. I have a JiggerBug Touch smart phone by Great Calls. It's the phone made just for old people. It has large fonts to read and uses words instead of icons. The best part is they have plans that are actually affordable for people like me who don't use them much and their customer service is really great. I'm not good about keeping it close either and mostly use it when I'm away from the house and I still like the shape of a real phone when I'm home.

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  5. Laughing...I love this, "Forget the Botox, ladies. Sew an Apple iPhone 6 to your hand and you'd look twenty years younger!" And the fact that you'd love to find someone to open pickle jars. It took me a week to open a can of figs, I started laughing when I saw the cartoon of the woman trying to open a jar with a knife.

    I think that's what I must have looked like, and I'm getting weak too. What's up with that? Fun post Jean.

    I hope you're having a great day. :)))

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    1. We're either getting weaker or the jar people are playing tricks on us that involve a dot of glue.

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