When I was in SD, MN and CO earlier this summer, I was preoccupied. Not that I didn't think of Gary all the time, but I was planning trips, dates, where to be when, and making doctor appointments. In other words, there were people to see and places to go.
Now I am back and recovering with this shoulder and I have been obsessed, yet again, with moving away from here. In 2003-2007 when I lived and worked here, I spent only a few weekends here alone to save money from either Gary or my travel costs. Those few quiet weekends alone here were BORING. I watched TV, did laundry in the apartment laundromat and looked ahead to the NEXT weekend when I could go back to California to be with Gary.
I keep remembering the feeling of anticipation when I would see him for the first time after being away from him for a week or two. If he was coming over to Phoenix, I would call him and get his ETA so I would know when to expect him. At the approximate time, I listened for the truck door to shut and the footsteps on the walk or stairway, keys jingling as he put them into his pocket.
I remember that delicious long hug(sometimes I had to wait until he got out of the bathroom first!) that followed when the door shut. Those hugs! Me, being the short one, I could hang on to him and hug for a long time. He was always the first to whisper, "I missed you so much." It was heaven.
Those weekends here or in California were more like vacations. If Gary came here, we would go out for late night happy hour drinks and appetizers. If I went over there, we went to Friday's or somewhere else for early happy hour. It was just Happy! Even though we talked to each other at least once a day, there was always something new to learn that had happened at each others' job that we hadn't talked about before. Gary laughed and smiled a lot and I could see that he was truly happy. I loved every minute of being with him until Sunday night when he or I had to leave again.
Last week, for the first time since Gary died, I actually got out and went somewhere with a local friend. She is a new friend, a widow, who lives around the corner from me. This lady just turned 60 and was widowed at age 48 after just having become disabled. 'Lucky' for her, being disabled meant she qualified at age 50 for widow's benefits from her husband. I first met this widow in the dog park in our community while Gary was still here and sick. I ran into her again and she gave me her number which I misplaced. After Gary died, I ran into her again and this time, she walked me back to my house where I wrote her number on a paper and put it on the refrigerator. It hung there for 7 months.
Finally, last month, when my mom and I were at another larger dog park after my surgery, there was the widow with her Labradoodle. She asked, "You should call me-do you still have my number?" I had only moved it to wipe the refrigerator off now and then. After another 2 weeks passed I did call her and left a message. 2 days later, on a Friday morning, she called me and said "let's go to a movie-NOW" What the heck, why not? Its only money, right? She picked me up 30 minutes later and we saw We are The Millers. It was funny and good, not stellar, and I was surprised she had no qualms about the profanity.
After, we drove to a local burger place and we sat and talked for 2 hours.
On earlier visits with this lady last summer and fall, I had asked her about remarrying. She had told me, "My husband was my Soul Mate and there will only be one of him. I am not looking for anyone else because I already found my one and only." I don't think I said anything to her, because I had no experience yet with how this feels to be without your 'one and only'. I do know that Gary thought I should remarry. I told him I would not, but he said I should. He said he wanted me to.
So, last week at lunch, without talking about marrying or even dating, my widow friend listened to me as I vented about wanting to be somewhere else, to be someONE else, and with someone else besides the dog, I knew she would be the only one in my life that truly understands this. She especially agreed with my statement, "I want MY LIFE back". She said, "I like that, 'I want MY life back!" Our lives were taken away from us as much as from our husbands. There are three lives involved in a marriage: Yours, Mine and Ours. We both lost two lives when our dear partners died.
My new friend seemed to be much more ambivalent toward men and relationships with men now. I can bet that she is as wishy washy as I am after 10 months and she has been at this for 12 years! She told me, "There are a lot of stupid men out there!" Boy ain't that the truth-especially here on the mean streets of the Senior Stronghold of Arizona! Gary may not have been as interested in politics and current events as I am, but he was innately sharp on how to treat people and what to say and how to act around others. He could learn new stuff very fast and was always GOOD at anything he did. Gary is an impossible standard for any other schmuck left out there to try to measure up to.
I also told my friend that there are a lot of deadbeats out there who have not saved for retirement, are not smart about money and have frittered away their earnings without saving. I have a lot of mistrust when it comes to maintaining what security I have amassed because of how hard Gary and I worked for our future. I can see why one would not want to remarry. It could spell financial ruin! Ahhh to be 18 again and know that anyone out there trolling for the opposite sex is usually on equal footing when it comes to assets. Because, at 18, everyone is at the same place: The Bottom.
The time spent deciding what to do next goes on and on and on for me. Maybe I need a life coach or something. Its not something anyone but me can decide. Maybe it is like being 18 again, and making a decision that might be a mistake, but being able to say, 'No biggee, we'll just try something different next time'. I think about that when I want to sell this house but I know that right now, I could never realize what I/we actually have INTO the house. It might sell for what I need, but the damned realtors fees and closing costs would eat up so much, I'd come up short. My grief counselor told me on his final visit with me that I need to keep remembering what Gary would advise me to do. I know that Gary would say, "If it doesn't make sense to sell right now, then DON'T" And so, as this Arizona summer grinds on and on with its monotonous 108 degree days, my wishful thinking goes on too, as to when and where my next step will be...
No comments:
Post a Comment