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It was a dark and cloud day with severe thunderstorms
predicted which resulted in keeping the hordes of people away that usually fill
up the art galleries, marinas, up-scale shops and food venders of all
descriptions. After the bus let us off and all fifty of us scurried off in different
directions I was amazed that at times it was like I had the whole town to
myself. I loved it because I was free to remember past times spent on those quaint
streets.
All four of the restaurants on our crawl were ones I’d
never been to before and I enjoyed them all. When ever Don and I went to this
town, we usually took the dog so we ate at the outdoor vendors and if we went
with another couple instead of the dog, we’d let them pick where we’d eat. One
time four of us went into a cozy bar and grill and everyone in the place
started singing, “You’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time…” but it didn’t
dawn on us right way that we’d walked into a gay bar. Not until a guy asked our
male friend to dance and that’s when we all took a good look around at the
other patrons. What happened after that became a funny tale that lived in Don’s
bank of entertaining stories for the next thirty years.
I like our senior center. It offers a wide variety of activities
to do and I sign up for many things. At first I thought by being active there
I’d network my way into some friendships. But it’s not working out that way.
Take these day trips, almost everyone shows up with a ‘travel buddy’ they’ve
invited from who-knows-where and they do the tourist thing in tantrum. Our
meals are shared at group tables but you never sit next to same person twice so
building up a kinship over time doesn’t work. I swear if it gets any lonelier
here on Widowhood Lane I’m going to sign up for OldPeopleMatch.com if there is
such a thing. Wanted: a friend to pal
around---not interested in romance or playing kissy-face. Either sex may apply.
I really wouldn’t want to pal around with a guy, though. That would be too
weird after spending 42 years with Don. I sat next to a guy during the dessert
course of the crawl and after he got through quizzing the three women at our
table I felt like we’d been interviewed for a position as his future nurse.
Having twelve years of experience as Don’s caregiver, I was nervous I’d win the
contest. Oh. Lord, save me from needy men!
Recently I found a dead tree in my back yard, big enough to
hit the house if it goes over in a storm. The neighbor lost the top of a giant
pine tree last week. The top 40 feet impaled into the ground and is standing
straight up in the air. What a strange sight that is and all I can think of is how
easy the top of my tree could end up impaling my bathroom. With the string of
bad luck I’ve been having lately I’m holding my breath between now and Monday
when a tree cutter is coming to give me a price on cutting the tree down. On
the good side, if it wasn’t for home ownership my “social life” would be cut in
half. Tuesday, my new front-loading washer and dryer gets delivered, Wednesday
the lawn care guy shows up like clock work, and Thursday is a senior center
lecture on great summer reads presented by the library. The rhythm of my life
goes on…so why does it seem so empty and full at the same time? ©
painting above by James Brandess
painting above by James Brandess
