JEALOUS...GUESS NOT

          

 When I was writing yesterday’s post, I wondered exactly why that had come up as a topic in my mind. Once finished, I realized it was the result of a conversation at my Driftwood Sculpting class.

          There is a gentleman in the class who was there when I began three or so years ago. He was a week into a new relationship with a woman ten years his senior, i.e., she was 90. That relationship bloomed and they are still together. He mentioned this week that they are going to design “engagement” rings and have them made, but they won’t be getting married. The rings are just something they both want to commemorate their relationship as it is.

          During this discussion, another gentleman was mentioned whose wife had died. Apparently, he’s now dating and is quite happy with the woman that’s come into his life. My driftwood friend hopes these individuals become a couple.

          Then, there’s a good friend whose husband died. She was quite happy being on her own, travelling and enjoying life the way she wanted it to be. I learned some time last summer that she now has a man in her life and he’s wonderful. In fact, they actually went to the same high school and graduated the same year.

I have to admit there was a part of me that was/is hugely jealous of these individuals and their “new” relationships. I, too, would like to have someone in my life; but at the same time, I don’t want the bother of developing a liaison and going through all the various ways in which I, and he, would have to learn to communicate and compromise.

          There’s also the fact that in the small circle I travel, available men are few and far between. There hasn’t been a single one that’s caught my eye since John passed. And I know, how can I possibly be so picky at my age…but I am.

          So, I guess having grass green eyes when it comes to new relationships for other friends will just have to be the norm for me. Of course, I should never say never because who knows what’s waiting around the corner. Seriously, though, I doubt there will ever be a new man in my life. Kuma and I will soldier on.

WANTING/NEEDING COMFORT

          

 Do you remember what it was like when you were very young and something happened that was either small or huge and made you feel awful…lots of times sending the tears flowing? I do. I also remember being picked up by an adult, usually mom, grandma or daddy, or when I got bigger, being able to crawl into their laps/arms for a cuddle. Do you remember how wonderful it was to have all the “pain,” whether physical or mental practically erased by the time the tears dried? I do.

          Even today, I can remember how my mom smelled. She smelled like soap, cigarettes and sometimes mouthwash. Daddy smelled like cigarettes, flour and sweat sometimes. Grandma’s odor was different. She smelled like her clothing which always seemed clean and fresh, but sometimes, she also smelled like the snuff she put in her lower lip. All those smells and all those arms and hands, not to mention the voices provided so much solace and reassurance. I can remember how whatever my problem had been, it was solved by the time I moved away from them.

          These days, I wish it were possible to have this eighty-year-old body and mind comforted in just that way. Unfortunately, there’s no adult in my life that could sooth my physical or mental hurts in any fashion. Kuma will allow me to give him as many hugs and pets as I could possibly want, but it’s more for his pleasure than my consolation. I will admit though that there is a great amount of comfort to be had from Kuma and I’m grateful for him and his presence.

          I believe I’ve written about this before. Long ago in an English class, there was a short article about the importance of skin. Newly born, growing up, being in a relationship, becoming a parent were all discussed because there was an abundance of skin, i.e., touch during those times. The article ended by discussing how older folks suffered from a lack of skin which might be detrimental to those folks’ health.

          There was also an article about how many hugs is necessary for good health. This was just discussed at my exercise class last week. The minimum necessary per day is four. The best number is twelve hugs each day. Anything beyond those twelve is icing on the cake. Well, damn, I don’t have the cake, let alone the icing.

          I guess the best I can do with all this reflection is to remember the comfort given and received during all those times there was a lot of skin in my life, and to be thankful for those memories.

ZERO COSTCO VISIT

          

 Today I went to Costco. Big deal right? Well, it really was a big deal because I walked out empty handed!!! How about that!!!

          My purpose in going there was to have new connectors put on my hearing aids. I’m having a hearing test next week and wanted to make sure the aids were in tip-top shape. I was told it would be about twenty minutes before they’d be ready.

          I went and ordered a slice of cheese pizza. No need for a soda since I had my water bottle from exercise class. While I ate, I looked at my phone…like every single other person there…before I took up watching the folks who’d gone through the checkout line and were leaving. I’m always amazed at the amount of product that ends up in other people’s carts. I don’t think I’ve ever bought that much stuff at one go in my life. But then, I haven’t ever had a huge family to feed either.

          Finished with the pizza, I decided to walk around and look at all the stuff I don’t ordinarily look at. Usually when I go to Costco, I have a list, know where what I’m there for is located, so don’t wander up and down the other aisles. It was interesting.

          What was more interesting, at least to me, was my thoughts about all the products I saw. There were so many that I would have loved to buy except for one small thing…well, two small things. First, my need for anything I looked at, including the women’s clothing, is pretty much nil. I already have more than enough stuff to use and wear without adding anything else.

The second small thing is cost. I’ve determined I’m going to be frugal this year. No spending to gain something I merely want as opposed to need. I don’t know how successful this new campaign will be as the year progresses, but so far, I haven’t purchased anything that wasn’t/isn’t necessary…good for me, right? Right!!!

I must admit that as I walked out Costco’s door, I felt very proud of myself even though there was a bit of regret over what I’d really liked but denied myself.

WATER

 

       Water is a resource that doesn’t get much of my attention. I don’t think the majority of my family and friends spend too much time thinking about water, especially here in the Northwest where it rains a lot. I admit I spent a bit of time thinking about water as I drank a lot of water the past couple of days, plus I’ll probably continue as long as my diet includes the ham in the fridge.

You see, on Sunday I baked a ham. I had ham for dinner and boy, was I thirsty. Then, I had ham for lunch and dinner yesterday and if I had been thirsty on Sunday, by Monday evening, I was as parched as the Sahara. This ham-induced thirst led to my epiphany.

Water, ice cold, ice cubes clinking against the water bottle. Gulp after gulp was wonderful. I couldn’t get enough. The feel of it’s iciness in my mouth, cascading down my throat and into my stomach. I was sure I knew what those characters in the old cartoons that crawled across the desert felt. I could hardly get enough water. I filled my water bottle at least three times yesterday afternoon and evening. Of course, that resulted in countless trips to the bathroom.

During this craving for water and more water, I tried to imagine what it would be like to live someplace else in the world where water is scarce, a luxury that I couldn’t afford to guzzle. That made me think about the various stories that report on how our water resources are in danger of becoming rare even though the world has so much water.

Still thirsty, I decided I didn’t want to reflect on a life that wouldn't allow me to drink all I wanted, especially not when my water bottle was in need of a refill and my thirst hadn’t yet been fully quenched.

REJUVENATED!!!

        

  Again, what a difference a day/night makes. I slept very well last night and woke up rejuvenated. Did a fairly major house clean and baked a ham. All that’s left for today is to prepare whatever I’m eating with my ham and take a shower/shampoo for the day to be complete.

          That doesn’t mean I dusted every single thing in the house because I didn’t. Have to leave something for me to do tomorrow. Actually, beginning tomorrow, I’m going to devote at least an hour, maybe two, to driftwood sculpture. I’m anxious to finish “Shipwreck” and will post a photo once it’s done.

          I also took advantage of the rain stoppage. Initially, I went out to put the garbage bins at the street. I cleaned up after Kuma and got the garbage and recycle bins down the driveway. I put the food scraps, etc., in the yard waste and realized there wasn’t much in there except last week’s and this week’s food scraps. So, I decided I’d have a quick go at pruning my hibiscus since it wasn’t raining.

          I clipped and even pulled out the heavy-duty pruners. Somehow, I managed to finish both bushes before it began to rain hard. It didn’t take all that long, although I had to stop and make Kuma go in the house. He wouldn’t stay in his driveway or front yard. I need to figure out some way to keep him localized if he’s going to be out there with me.

          So, lots done today and I’m pleased with moi. Guess a day of rejuvenation is very worthwhile.

WAS I REJUVENATING???

 

I think there’s a saying about how, “what a difference a day makes.” Well, in my case, it’s more like, “what a difference a night makes.” As I type this I wonder if I go back to bed for the second time today (Saturday) whether I’ll get up feeling more like the way I felt pretty much this whole year so far, or if I’ll get up still feeling “blah.”

There wasn’t anything unusual about my night. I believe I slept well and yet I could hardly keep my eyes open the first time I got up at 6:30 am. I was back in bed before 7:10 am, Kuma watered, latte drank and slept for more than another hour. Sitting here typing I feel like I could go back to bed for the whole day. I have no energy whatsoever and it’s hard to keep my eyes open.

It's not like I have a huge “to-do” list, although I do have one. It’s not like I worked my ass off yesterday. The human body, or at least my human body, is a wondrous mystery. Is it trying to tell me something by being so tired? Am I too out of tune with my body to recognize the message? Is my mind playing tricks on my body? I just don’t understand how I can go from feeling great one day to feeling so tired in simply a matter of hours…hours that were supposed to re-energize me.

So, I guess I’ll simply ignore the to-do list and take myself back to bed and see if more rest will give me more energy. Lord knows I really hate feeling the way I feel right now.

Well, Kuma and I did spend the entire day in bed. I put on Netflix and watched most of a rather boring program, “Runaway.” We did get up to make and eat lunch, but that was it. Now, as I type this so I can post it, water is heating to boil spaghetti noodles for my dinner. The salad’s already made and it won’t take long to fix some garlic bread.

I guess I could be rather depressed about “wasting” an entire day, but I’m going to choose to look at it as a necessary rejuvenation…nine great days followed by one that, I hope, will renew me for another nine plus???

A WIDOW'S DINNER INVITATION

           

Long ago I heard or read about how much a widow’s life changes once the husband has passed. I haven’t really thought about that very much in the time John has been gone; however, just recently, listening to a friend talk about inviting a couple to dinner, it popped up in my memory…I guess it took my old 286 six-plus years to grind that information to the forefront.   

          I have to admit the information I filed away all those years ago definitely had merit. When John died, family and friends were very solicitous, but as time passed, invitations and connections ceased or became rare. I cannot, well, I guess I could, tell you how many of my friends are half of a couple; and while I may see/talk to/lunch with the wife, an invitation to the home for dinner, or really any occasion, is rarely, if ever, issued. This also applies to married family members.

          It’s as though my widowhood has turned me into a pariah. I’m a good enough/close enough family member/friend to warrant a weekly phone call or visit or lunch date, but not so much when it comes to issuing an invitation into the home of that family member or friend.

          I haven’t done any research to see if this is applicable to the majority of widows and probably won’t. There’s the potential to find out that this “isolation” isn’t applicable to most widows, that it’s only applicable to me because I’m not really such a great family member or friend.

Regardless, eating dinner on my own the majority of the 365 days of the year is lonely but I’ve become used to it. And it’s not like I spend all of those days here in my house on my own. I’ve lots of activities and interests that keep me occupied in positive ways; and while I could spend more time than this wondering if there’s actually something wrong with me that prevents those invitations, I choose to end this blog post and get on with the life I have.