Fireworks and Remembering

Yesterday was the 4th of July.  It is a holiday that Mike and I usually shared with family and friends. Like everyone else in the nation, we gave or went to a barbecue and enjoyed the food and drinks of the day along with festive fireworks at the end of the evening.  The last 4th of the July Mike and I shared together he was in the hospital.  I have a photo of him holding a small flag in his hand.  He isn't smiling, he is holding the flag and looking at me with determination and sadness. I won't share this photo, because there is something private about it.

There have been some signs in the house, mostly electrical these past few days.  When I turn on a light in any room in the house more than not the light will flicker.  I tell Mike hello and I love him and the flickering stops. At first it scared me, but now it seems to be a comfort.  I am sure anyone of you can give me a perfectly good reason why the lights are flickering, but sometimes we just have to believe in something else.

Last night as the firework explosions light up my neighborhood, I sat on my back patio listening and watching and thought about Mike and our life together. I seems a little easier now to think of the past and not break apart.  I had a widow friend over for dinner and sangria earlier and she went home before the skies got dark as just like neighborhood she did not want to drive through all the smoke and fire.  I had a very nice visit with her, she is two years ahead of me on this widow journey and even though she is a few years older than me, we have a great deal in common. I thought the day would be hard, I know it was last year.  I stayed up a lot later than I thought I would.  I feared crawling into my bed and feeling the loneliness, so I had an little more wine as I sat outside and then waited for it to do it's job. When I went to bed I was able to fall fast asleep.

This morning when I woke, I turned on the light sitting on the night stand next to me bed and as usual, the light flickered a few times and I said good morning to Mike.  I will spend the rest of the weekend alone, and that is okay.  I have errands to run and projects to complete.  My days and nights sometimes run together but they can be productive and positive also.  My to-do list is always very long and at can be overwhelming, but I am determined and that is something Mike loved about me.

Online Dating

I had to give it a try.  I’ve heard/read so much about it in this past year, there was no way to truly have an opinion about it unless I had experienced it myself.  And if I want to be a good journalist, the first step is to get the information and then report your findings. 

Last month, I did just that.  There were a few ladies in my widow’s group who had signed up for a free online dating service and actually met a few men, went on a few dates, and during the last meeting seemed to be walking a little taller, smiling a little wider, and carrying on a different conversation.  Was I jealous, maybe, who wouldn’t be?  I keep telling myself that I am not ready for this, but the idea of having someone else to love and love me back is hard not to miss.

I began the online profile.  I had no idea the kind of information they want from a somewhat anonymous site.  I gave as little personal information as possible.  I put up a recent photo as to not give the impression I was younger, thinner, or had any less wrinkles or grey hair than any other 55 year old woman.  Then came the questions that I never in a million years thought they would ask.  My drug preference, really?  Whether I enjoyed to take drugs before, during, or after sex.  What positions of sex did I enjoy, did l like to use sex toys.  Would I consider having sex with the same sex?  I passed on all of these questions, I also passed on all questions concerning religion and politics.  Seriously, what person answers all of these questions?  I had to answer one hundred questions in order for the site to set me matches.  It was a painstakingly long ordeal and a few times when the freaky sex questions came up I considered just backing out and leaving it alone.

Okay now I am on the site and getting emails, hundreds of them came in a span of probably less than an hour.  Well maybe not hundreds, but it sure did seem like it.  First thing I did was turn off my email notification.  Too much for me, I hate to see unread emails, there was no way I wasn’t stopping whatever I was doing to read them.  Luckily I was at the tail end of my semester and had some time to go through them. 

There is a great deal of men looking for love and the perfect woman.  All I could keep thinking was, I sure do hope these guys find her.  I wasn’t sure the best way to go through them, but I decided if they sent me a match with someone who wasn’t at least over 70% he was eliminated.  Then there were the screen names, any guy who had a reference to his junk was immediately eliminated.  Now, I am a flower child of the 60’s and 70’s, so long hair was the norm for my high school year book for the boys and the girls.  But a 50+ year old man with long hair is just not the same.  My husband was a long haired hippy before he joined the Navy and even after he retired, he never wanted to grow it back.  I love a clean shaven, clean cut man.  So of course those long haired men were eliminated.  Location was also a deal breaker, anybody outside of the central Florida area was not getting my attention at this time.  Lastly if you had a great deal of miss spelled words in your bio that was a great big deal breaker.

Okay, so I had dwindled it down to a few, then I started getting the messages from some that I had not seen on my match list, but when I pulled them up were pretty close to the high 90’s with a few exceptions.  The men who sent me messages that said they read my bio and loved the way I looked were already suspect.  Reading their bio, their likes and dislikes I learned that they were pretty much predators because if they had taken the time to look at my picture, I am nowhere in the description of a woman they were looking for.  By now I was getting discouraged and feeling like maybe I was being too critical.  It took me about a week of logging in and out and reading, passing, deleting messages when two different men caught my eye.  One was a local man who said he was a widower with a 22 year old son.  The second said he was from Atlanta, but had a lot of the qualities I was looking for.  So I reached out to both.  I got a message from the first person almost within a day.  He told me a little bit about himself, was an architect, had his own firm, owned two cars, liked to travel, was dedicated to his son, and loved the beach, and so on and so on.  I was intrigued.  The second guy responded and said he was not too keen on a long distance relationship, but has traveled to Orlando in the past and was willing to give it a try.  Guess which guy I decided to communicate with?  You got it, the local widower, thought I would have a chance because he would understand my emotions a little bit better.

I began my information, started with my status as a widow, how long I have been widowed, how long I was married, about my children.  Then I explained that I was not sure if I wanted anything more than a male companion.  Someone I could spend time with, talk to about issues I have to get the male perspective.  Someone to have dinner with on occasion, maybe do some traveling, but was sure that I wanted to make any kind of commitment of any kind any time soon.  He responded a few days later, he told me what he was expecting out of a relationship, and his biggest concern was honesty.  He did not want to deal with anyone who was going to lie to him.  He also gave me his personal email and phone number and asked if we could maybe start talking on a more personal basis as he works a lot and is not able to access this site all the time.

Okay I thought, not a big deal, I have several email accounts, I will just give him one of my non-descript emails and see what happens.  Was not ready to give him my phone number, it had only been two messages.  I responded and ask him to tell me about his wife, how long he was married, if he would tell me how long ago she had passed.  He replied by telling me about his childhood and where he was from.  It was different, but I thought okay I can do this.  So I gave him a short synopsis about where I grew up and then again asked him to tell me about his relationship with his wife because I had told him about mine, and also added that I believed not telling someone something is exactly like lying.  Next email was pretty much more about the qualities he wants in a relationship, never answered any of my questions asked in the past two emails and bonus, he ended the email with “With Much Love.”

Creep me out or what.  Third time is a charm as they say, so I asked once more for him to tell me about his relationship with his wife, I got a response the next day.  I opened it on my phone, it was actually on Saturday evening.  To my surprise I read the first line, “My Dearest Barbara” then the rest of the email telling me how much he loved me, my messages were inspirational, and when can we see each other.

I had just been scammed, by a moron apparently.  He didn’t check the font on his form letter before he sent it to me.  I read the email several times after that to make sure I was not just seeing things. In the morning I opened it up on my computer and knew for sure he had sent me a prewritten “Insert name here,” love letter.  So I decided to Google him.  When I put his email in Google up popped a company name.  His name, he had created a website recently the ©is dated 2014.  So he must create a new company site every year or maybe has different sites for every email he uses, to keep the ladies on their toes.

I immediately blocked all emails and communications with him on my email accounts.  All of them just to be on the safe side.  I also went back to the online dating site and deleted my account from them.  I learned my lesson very quickly, I am not only not ready to do online dating, and it is not going to be the avenue for me.  I know what you are going to say.  It was your first time and they aren’t all that bad, don’t want to chance it.  I know widows are targets for every kind of scam under the sun.  Maybe I shouldn’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but that is who I am right now.  Can’t change it, don’t want to change it. 

I had just completed an online course in Chemistry and actually received an “A” for that course, and this one experienced reminded me how stupid I can be. Can it be that I had my one chance for love?  I know a relationship is very hard work, I worked my ass off for 34 years with Mike and he did that same.  Will I find someone like him that is willing to work his ass off for me?  Time will only tell.  Right now I am okay with being jealous of the widows who find their next true love online, I will just keep on going to school and learning things like Biology, and Spanish online and leave the rest to fate. 

 

Widow Thought of the Day:

 On this new day
Time gone estray
Thinking mostly of sadness
To communicate the madness...
It wasn't a choice
I have no voice
My heart is blue
I just miss you.

-GB-

Wednesday Poem

Wednesday Poem

Get up
It takes more time
Start then
If I am ready...
Stay away
Don't want to cry
Come back
They make it hard
Say it
Can it be done
Don't worry
It happens to everyone
Go there
In need of help
Take back
To then is love

-GB-

Widow Thought of the Day:


Wishing Wednesday - close your eyes and tap your heels together three times and think to yourself.....

Widow Thought of the Day:

My Rainbow

Red is her rosy smile
Orange is her sun kiss love...
Yellow is her bright happy imagination
Green is her healthy growth
Blue is her beautiful heart
Purple is her favorite color

 

 

Mike's Hugs

I woke up this morning and yearned for one of Mike’s hugs.  I thought about events in the news and for some reason I thought of how Mike would have reacted.  He was a sweet, loving soul. I remember the day of the September 11^th attack, I was at work when it happened.  Mike was newly retired and was going to school full time.  I came home and found him at his desk in the office, he had been crying and he was in shock.  We held each other for a long time.  I remember the feel of his arms around me, I felt so safe in his arms.  He stood 5’11” and was on average 200 pounds, he had the broadest shoulders in my eyes.  His arms always wrapped around me whenever we hugged.  He was not one of those men who just leaned in and let you do all the work when hugging.  He put his whole body in his hugs.  He had a way of gently squeezing while softly patting.  He would take a deep breath and then slowly let it out like he was giving you as many endorphins as you could possibly take.  He was never one to let go first, I could at times stand there in his arms for as long as I wanted, and he would never let go.

So this morning when I woke up, I really needed a hug from him.  I tried very hard to remember the last time we hugged.  I know when he was diagnosed with Stage IV Lymphoma at his doctor’s office we hugged.  I know we hugged quite a few time the day he was admitted in the hospital.  I know the night of his first chemo we hugged when he finally convinced me he was okay and I could go home and get some sleep.  But that hug was while he was in his hospital bed never, ever realizing those hugs in the hospital were the last ones I would ever get from him.   The feeling of security which I took for granted all those years, I will never have again. My daughters and I talk about those hugs he gave, how good they were and how much we loved them.  His brothers are pretty good huggers too, and whenever I get a chance to visit with one of them I make sure to get a few of those hugs.

I am not sure why the recent tragedies in the news were able to bring that emotion or that particular feeling to the surface, I can only assume it was because things like that make me feel unsecure.  Make me feel like there is no safe place, makes me want to find the safest place I can be.  For me it was always in Mike’s arms.  He was my hero, my knight in shining armor, my comfort zone.  It has been at least two years since my last hug from Mike, I know the reality of never getting another is hard to comprehend. 

Anchors Away

I had an old friend of Mike’s stop by the house last week.  He was looking for Mike.  I had to break the news to him that he was about 2 years late.  He lives about 20 miles away, not far, but we had lost touch over the years, and I didn’t know where he lived.  He was one of those Navy friends that come and go in and out of our lives.  Their friendship began in the mid 1980’s.  They were young, mid-twenties invincible, and could party like there was no tomorrow.  I am guessing about 30 years have passed since they first met.

He had this sort of blank look on his face.  He had no idea that when he knocked on my door that the person he most wanted to see that very minute was no longer living.  He gave me a warm, caring hug and asked how it happened.  He listened and nodded his head, told me about his family members who passed away in the past years too, but never compared his grief with mine.  He said something that has brought back so many of my regrets.  He knew Mike was a very military minded person, even though had been retired for years, would still have a military hair-cut and be as fit as a Master Chief in the Navy could be. So he said with a lot of regret in his face and voice.  “I wanted to come here a few years back, missed Mike a lot didn’t come because I thought I was too overweight.” 

I just gave him a half-hearted smile and looked down at my own overweight body and said, “That’s too bad I don’t think Mike would have cared. “ I can imagine he drove home and thought about all the things he would have shared with Mike that day.  All the regrets he now has because of one single decision.  I can’t say that if Mike had this friend in his life before he died would have made a difference. It has however kept me up for the past few nights, well mostly woke me up after a few hours of sleep because I can’t get that comment out of my mind.

I too was one to put things off because of my weight.  Because I didn’t feel like I would or could fit in with the people I knew before or even new people for that matter.  Mike and I traveled a lot after he retired from the Navy.  We were only in our late 40’s when he retired, young enough to have fun and enjoy the sites.  Well menopause was my enemy when I got closer to my 50’s and man did my body want to abuse me in any way it could.  So needless to say, I did opt out on several occasions when Mike wanted to jaunt off to Jamaica or Mexico or even down to Miami for a long weekend in the sun.  Do I regret it now, you betcha.  More than anything in the world, I would love to go back in time and go with Mike where ever he wanted to go. 

I know I can’t change the past, but I sure as heck can change the future.  I will take some trips to places that I want to see.  I don’t think I will be able to revisit the places Mike and I went for a while longer, but there are plenty of other places in this great big world I can go.  I will have my bag of regrets forever, they are not as heavy as they use to be.  I am slowly learning that everyone has their own personal bag of regrets and what ifs. It is how I will display, decorate, and carry that bag that makes all the difference in this new life. 

In Time by Grief Barbie

Taking time for me
Is hard to believe

Try to make what I can't see
I still need to grieve

Take the space and make it mine
Changing it forever
But remembering all the time
You are my only lover

Don't rush the process
I'll be here for a while
I know there is success
It will be my own style

Happy St. Partick's Day

Widow Thought of the Day:

 Me milk be green this morning
 Me bread at me lunch be too
 Me beer may be green this evening
 But that’s where the green is through
 For me husband nay be with me
 The man tis gone to heaven above
 Though green be the color I’m wearing
 Tis blue I be feeling for me love

My Feelings

Today I felt your love and cried
It is hard to be here most days
The blue sky reminds me of your eyes

We are not us anymore
Please give me time to learn
The sun shines on me more than ever

Will we be together in the end
You are always by my side
Rain is my only friend

Careful What Makes You Happy

This morning I had the opportunity to put the top down on my mustang convertible after class and drive over to the nearest shopping center to do a little window shopping and maybe purchase a few items for spring.  I have been hold-up in my house for the past couple months doing on-line classes and trying to make some sense of my house.  I’ve moved the furniture around in my bedroom three times and once in my family room.
Well anyway I am getting off topic.  I love to drive my mustang with the top down.  It gives me a sense of freedom and youth.  At age 55 anything that makes me feel younger is a gift.  The wind was blowing in my hair and the sun was shining on my face, classic rock was playing on the radio and I suddenly have this overwhelming feeling that I am the luckiest woman in the world.  It was the same feeling had I had about 10 years ago when Mike bought me my first mustang and on these early spring days I had the opportunity to drive with the top down.
I would think to myself, “How did I get here?”  I am a product of divorce in the 1960’s.  My mom had four daughters under the age of 10, and my father left her for another woman and never looked back.  We lived in the projects in a small blue collar town in northwestern Pennsylvania.  I was raised on welfare cheese, and Toys for Tots.  Most of my relatives and their friends were sure the four girls were going to amount to nothing, just a strain on the welfare system.  My father’s mother, thought my mother should have just put us all in the local orphanage, (notice how I didn’t call her my grandmother) I never cared for that woman.  If I had stayed in that small town there is a good chance I might have ended up as they predicted.
So today when I had that feeling of being that lucky woman, it scared the hell out of me.  I let myself feel lucky and count my blessing many times in that car before Mike passed and what good did it do me? It feels like fate or karma, whatever you want to call it, slapped me in the face and told me to not think that way.  Then all I could do was say to myself, “I’m sorry for feeling this way, please don’t take anyone or anything else away from me.”
I know a lot of people will tell me that being alive, having a roof over my head, having friends and family that love me are all things I am lucky for, and I won’t argue with you. I had someone tell me once that I had to pay my dues to get and keep the blessings I deserved.  Worse part is this so called spiritual person did not know me from Adam and had no idea what and if I have already paid any so called “dues”.
Now when I think, “How did I get here?” It is more a reference to why am I a widow?  Why did he have to die, and how come it hurts so much even when I am happy?