Rarely, something drifts through my life that cries out to be written down. Today, I was gifted with a posterity nugget that I am privileged to share with you.
It materialized during one of the many phone conversations I have with my ex-wife who lives on the West Coast. Although we have been divorced since 1975, neither of us remarried and now, since most of the members of our families have passed on, by default and as a result of a 12 year marriage and two children, she certainly knows me better than anyone else on the planet. And, I think, she would agree I know her better. This is reinforced by the fact that neither of our lives are cluttered up by hoards of friends (a hoard being three).
I mentioned to her today that I don’t seem to be as depressed as I have been in the recent past. She said that it was no wonder, and began ticking off a laundry list of things that I should be grateful for. The list began with health (she knows about my health because I’ve passed her copies of recent medical records and she is a registered nurse), followed by enough money to sustain myself for the moment. I’m also able to get around on my own, and have a job. These are things she has found through her involvement with the health profession that many people my age don’t possess.
Putting the list together, it’s health, money, mobility, and a job. So it was heartbreaking that I had to remind her that there is something that supersedes health, money, mobility, and a job. For a man who’s been on his own for over 30 years, it is often referred to as “being set in my ways.”
So, the list-topper of blessings at 71 is that I DON’T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO. There. I’ve said it. And I’m glad. (I have heard an 80 year old woman call the 85 year old guy standing next to her her boyfriend. So there is no reason I can’t call a 76 year old woman who hasn’t been in my life for the past 20 years, my girlfriend.)
The anniversary of that final breakup somehow slipped past me without a thought. On Friday, November 11, she called me. I could detect that “something has come up that I have to talk to you about” in her voice. I was watching a PBS TV show that I still remember and so asked her to please call me back the next morning. Saturday, November 12, our six and a third year relationship ended. I was 51 years old and had permanently lost my girlfriend. I am now 71 years old and haven’t had a girlfriend since 1988.
I admit that I got along swimmingly with the girl I shared time with between 1982 and 1988, and she seldom if ever told me what to do. And vise versa. Our relationship consisted of enjoying each other. After the breakup, a year passed. Then another year. Five years. Ten years. And now 20 years and I have not met another girl like LuLu (not her real name). She is five years older than I am and I’ve only met her once since, when I accidently bumped into her in downtown Denver. Would I still recognize her if I saw her again? You’re damned right I would.
I recently met a man at our local senior center. His wife passed away last February. Now he’s out to meet another woman to augment the rest of his life although he’s not ready to fully admit the fact. I was at the gathering to have lunch and watch an obscure movie. I suggested that he go to a close-by church (although I’d never go to a church to meet a woman as that’s where I met my ex). You see, he is still suffering from the complete opposite. He’s looking for a girlfriend to give him direction and to tell him what to do.
As for me, I wrote this without a bit of prodding from a woman, girlfriend, or wandering neighbor’s wife. None of them come though my life anymore. I get up with no more than a sore back, scrape together some bus change, walk a half mile to my bus stop, and go to work. I’m not particularly happy but I can live with it.
- Bob