Ya Gotta Have Friends!

  When I first started this blog, it was one of the ways that I coped with the divorce and rebuilding my life. It helped me put things in perspective and explore my feelings, and figure out how to rebuild my life. I enjoyed writing and loved the feedback that was so positive. So now my life is back together, sort of, and I still want to write so I have to find a new direction.  There are a lot of mommy-bloggers, fashion-bloggers, and food-bloggers and I really don’t have enough to say to just choose one topic.  I know that successful bloggers find a niche but I think I’m going to be more of an everything-blogger and just write what I feel like at any given moment.  So you may see a post about food, fashion, or grandma stuff, but you also might see a lot of other topics as my mind wanders around.

I think today I’m going to write about friends. Throughout my marriage, I tried to bring couples into the mix, going out together in groups or 2 and 2, but it never worked out the way I hoped and as time went on, our social life revolved around basketball and baseball with our son, going to all of the games and sitting with the other parents. Occasionally there would be group picnics and we always had fun but it seemed that there never was time to get any more involved than that.  We did a good bit of traveling because of these sports so it filled up the time that we might have spent socializing in free time.  During this time, I drifted away from my close college friend and my girl time revolved around work, going out to lunch regularly, attending meetings and trainings together, and it sort of filled that friend roll.

Upon divorce, I realized that there wasn’t too much happening in my life beyond work. My son was grown, no more sports, and I realized that I needed to expand my life.  My son and I are friends, and talk about many different things, even working together on different projects, but I needed more than that.  By this time, my college friend Kathy was back in my life and we were doing our best to get together regularly, but this was limited by jobs and different days off.  We were able to pick up where we had left off, one of those friendships where you went through a lot together, knew each other’s secrets, and had a long history of friendship.  We met around 1968 and were suite mates in the dorm, becoming best friends for 50 years now.  But one person isn’t a circle so I had to decide to get out of my comfort zone and make some more friends!

My first new friend was Rocky, my little Yorkie. Rocky was one of the first things I did just for me and he filled some of that alone time that I had to adjust to.  I loved that dog like no other pet I ever owned and mourned his death for a very long time.  Truth be told, I’m tearing up now.  I always had a pet, both single and married, but this little dog got into my heart in a different way.  Perhaps because of the emotion of divorce, perhaps because of the circumstances, but in any case, he was a little friend that I loved. However, not much conversation going on with Rocky so I kept trying to find ways to make new friends, much harder as an adult than as a kid.

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Next came the knitting group, something else that I never would have done married; just no time. I met Carla, Ray, Ellenbeth, Karen, among others, and this was something I looked forward to every week.  We met at Bogart’s Book Exchange and spent a few hours a week knitting, crocheting, drinking coffee, and buying books.  I managed to get there every week for about a year but then for some reason, it got harder to achieve and after a while, I gradually stopped going. However, I’m trying to get back to it and yesterday, I finally got there and while the group has changed a bit, and Bogart’s is in a new location, it was so great to be there.  I’ve missed going.  I won’t be able to go regularly but I’m hoping that yesterday broke the ice for me and I’ll continue.

I’ve also managed to hold on to some friendships from past work.  Women from Headstart are still part of my circle and we actually met for lunch a few weeks ago.  Several others are my Facebook Friends, and while we don’t see each other we keep in touch in that FB way.  At my last job, I managed to bring several of my friends to my new job so we still talk regularly.  And of course, there are the new friends at work now, and we occasionally go out to lunch after monthly meetings, but everyone has so much going on, and truthfully, most of these people are younger so are at a different place in life, and are busy doing their own thing.  I love the connections that we have, but we all live in different areas and don’t see each other outside of work.  And that’s OK.

I also have to mention Facebook Friends. I’m so happy that I’ve reconnected with high school friends and went to our 50^th reunion in the fall.  And I’ve come away from that with some new friends, looking forward to seeing their posts and in some cases, getting together.  I also have made new friends on FB and while we don‘t meet, they are new in my life and enrich it.

Meetups are also something I’ve used to try to make more friends but that never seems to work out as the most interesting meet ups are too far. There are very few in my area and while I’ve thought of starting one, I finally decided against it and started Coloring and Coffee, again at Bogart’s, where we meet the last Sunday of the month and spend a few hours with adult coloring books, coffee, and socializing.  It’s a small group but Bogart’s is a small coffee house, so that’s OK.  If I made it a meetup, it would involve dues, and maybe a different location, so I don’t want it to change and like that it’s close to home.

So you might wonder what’s missing. I feel blessed to have so many people in my life but the one thing I don‘t have is a travel friend.  I think there’s some gypsy in my soul as I love to see new places.  I could take a road trip every weekend, given the opportunity and the time, and am a great navigator and car packer.  I learned from the best, mom, who made the lists of supplies every time we traveled and kept track of the maps and costs for every trip we took.  I actually have one of her notebooks from our trips and she tracked every dime spent when we traveled to Niagara Falls and Watkins Glenn, among others.  And Dad was the packer, loading up that station wagon, the old Plymouth, packing every suitcase, cooler, and supplies like it was a puzzle to fit together.  We never arrived with something we forgot at home, because those lists were detailed!

Life seems so much busier than it was growing up. Perhaps this is why it seems harder to make friends  I remember my mother having groups that she met with, the Cousins Club (female family that met once a month), her Sorority, and when she and Dad retired, a group that they traveled with, mostly couples, but they were never home.  I feel like I’m going to have to work part time instead of retiring because most of my friendships come from work, but at the same time I yearn for the freedom from work, so this is something I have to figure out.  I don’t want retirement to be isolated and lonely.  I want to be busy doing things with others, having fun, being productive, enjoying the freedom I’ll finally have to do what I like, but I also want to have other people be part of that.  So I’ll close by saying, if you live in south Jersey, give me a call!  Maybe we can become travel buddies or start a club, or just get together for coffee.  The possibilities are endless!!

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The Men in My Life

It’s been a little while since I’ve written so I thought I would tell you about the men in my life.  Comfy?  Ok.  Me too, cuddled up in my afghan and with a steaming cup of tea.

When my husband and I separated, I was around age 60 and one of the things I thought about was would I ever find love again? I felt old, used up, unattractive, and just lost without my partner.  Of course, since then I’ve realized he wasn’t really the partner I thought he was, and while we had many good and loving moments, raised a son together, and have gone through a lot as a couple, growing old together wouldn’t have been how I envisioned it because we weren’t best friends.

So fast forward to now. No men in my life expect two-my son and my grandson.  My son and I don’t see a lot of each other.  We’re both busy with our own thing but as I’ve written before, he was my rock throughout the separation and divorce and sharing the house with him gives us each our own space and just enough together time that we don’t drive each other crazy.  It’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone to bounce ideas off of, and his presence makes the house “alive.”

And then there’s my grandson. He’s a beautiful boy, bright, active, a handful at times, but a good boy.  He’s 3 ½ and his teacher says that he knows all the sounds of letters and could be reading soon.  (Can you say proud grandma?)  We read all the time but his favorite thing is for me to make up stories.  He climbs up on the couch next to MeMa’s seat, cuddles up, and tells me what the story should be about.  When I first started doing this, I would try to get him to chime in but he wouldn’t.  But now he’s director and script writer and if I say the wrong thing I hear “MeMa, I’m very angry.  You aren’t listening.”  Most of the stories feature whatever toys he’s interested in such as his bison but now he’s interested in Super heroes as well.  This boy loves stories and can sit through a dozen if I have enough brain power to think of that many!  I love him beyond my imaginings.  Having a grandchild is such a different experience than being a parent.  And he and I have a special bond.  I try to keep my common sense in the forefront but all it takes is “MeMa, I’m so excited to see you.  I missed you”, and I melt.

So these two are my “men.” And I’m very happy with the trade.  I never realized how much “work” my husband was.  It’s so nice to not have to cook if I don’t want to, do laundry whenever I feel like it, grocery shop only once in a while…my time is my own.  I can eat in bed, stay up all night, or go to bed at 8.  If I snore, no problem.  If I want the fan on, no problem, blankets off, blankets on, etc.  You get the idea. (I’m sleeping better too)  I did so many things for him, out of love and a desire to be a good wife, that I stifled “me”.  So along with sleeping better, going wherever I want, whenever I want to, my mind is freer and I feel more creative.

Please understand that I put myself in that type of wife “box” but of course, he liked it and didn’t protest. And because of that, I started becoming resentful and allowed myself to be taken for granted, something that I was only able to realize after the separation.  It actually brought me to quite a few realizations that had I done that soul searching sooner, I might have asked him to leave years ago or maybe things would have improved.  Who knows?.  He doesn’t get a pass but I did everything based on my vision of a wife.  Child care-all me.  Housework-all me.  Work full time, me.  When the hell did I sleep?  He worked long hours too but there was never any notice of how tired I might be and no helping hand offered.  Home was my job and I did my best to keep up.  He should have married Donna Reed!  OK.  Rant done.  But my point is that I’m so much happier without all of that burden.

So do I want to marry again? Right now, I think “no”.  For a few reasons.  First, after 30 years of marriage-done-wrong, I’m not sure how to do it right.  Second, I’m loving the freedom.  Third, there’s a tiny corner of my heart that still mourns and so far, that’s not going away or lessening, making no room for someone new. It’s not that I miss him, just that maybe he was “the one and only”.  I’ve always heard that some people only love one person.  Is that me?  Not sure.  I invested every fiber of my being in that marriage and maybe there’s nothing left.  I’m happily expanding my girlfriend time, eating out, going places.  I would like to add travel to that picture but so far work intrudes on that plan, but maybe in the near future.  If my health was better I’d go by myself and may do some exploring alone anyway.  You know, those senior bus trips!  But I guess time will tell.

It’s been nice sharing this time with you but I need to be out and about, running errands, meeting friends for coffee, and just enjoying freedom.  We’ll talk again soon.

Shelley

Snowy Day Musings

Isn’t this a perfect day to have a cup of tea and curl up on the sofa with a book?  I think so. In the picture is the last blanket that my mother crocheted for me and I treasure it.  Anyway, it’s great to wrap up in it on the couch and read.  So I took a break from my lounging and Facebook viewing, and Pinterest, to do some writing.

I recently got some news about the ex-husband, good news for him of course, but sad and somewhat depressing for me. I’m not going in to any details but I will say that once again I have to bounce back, “get over it”, and move forward.  So how do I do this?

First, I always give myself permission to cry, get angry, or whatever emotion is welling up inside. I’ve found that holding it back causes my heart to swell, my head to hurt from holding back tears, and there is a hollow feeling in my belly.  Not good.  So I go with it.  And get it all out so I can move past it.  Of course, not indefinitely, but long enough that the pain begins to fade.  I give myself permission to mourn.  And then I work at putting it out of my mind.

Of course this isn’t easy but I take it one day at a time, and usually am able to diminish the effect over time. You see, my head knows that I’m better and happier now; it’s just my foolish heart that still dreams about old love.  (Because we did have many good times.)

Anyway, forward I go. Another strategy that I’ve added is to be grateful every day, to stay positive, to laugh, and to stay busy.  All of this helps.  Time spent alone and brooding is not the way to get back to the “happy place” in my head.

I also have done some reading such as “The Law of Attraction”, “The Secret”, among others, and I try to be mindful of what I’m attracting to myself with my thoughts. Even if you don’t believe in this theory, I figure it can’t hurt.

The last and best thing that helps is talking to my son and playing with my grandson, who is very demanding about MeMa’s story telling. It’s hard to stay sad while he and I are hanging out in the bathroom while he sits on the toilet and I have to tell the story about the hippos lining up to go potty in the jungle, where there is only one toilet….don’t ask for more details, please! He loves for me to make up stories and sometimes the well is pretty dry!  This little boy keeps me happy.  He loves to come in my room and climb on my bed, will still occasionally fall asleep in my arms, and tells me regularly “that’s not fair MeMa!”, something I have thought many times about the ex’s latest escapade as well as some others.

Anyway, the pendulum is swinging back up; I’m getting over it, and life will be fine again soon.

So now, back to my snow watching, as it hasn’t stopped yet, Facebook and Pinterest, and reading my book.  Hope your day is as good as mine!

Catching you Up!

A lot has gone on since my last posting so I’m going to make some tea and then briefly tell you about it.

Ready?…….OK.

First would be work.  I have three jobs necessitated by the full time one paying so little.  The good news, I guess, is that I work four 10-hour days, leaving me time to work somewhere else in the off time.  I have four more years before I can collect my maximum Social Security so I’m using the time to get out of debt, put money aside, and mostly keep up with my living expenses.  Thus, one full time and two part time jobs.  It tends to suck the life out of me, working like this, and I have to add two hours of travel daily to those 10 hours.  I get home by 9:00 PM and want to do nothing. Just veg.

Summer 2015…Life is Good!

My retirement plan definitely did not include divorce but I’ve managed to stay financially afloat, with the help of my son.  We’re getting ready to have a huge yard sale so I can finally get rid of a lot of crap that has been hanging around for many years.  When I’m done, I hope to see only necessities, which will of course include books, craft supplies, and more books!

Next, my husband filed for divorce and I just opened the notice today.  I’ve been carrying it around unopened for about a month; couldn’t open it.  Sad, scared, angry….you name it, I feel it, or felt it.  It came about a month before our 35^th anniversary, which just passed. But the good news is that I’m OK, pretty much.  I’ll be honest and tell you that there was a brief pain in my heart.  After all, I’ve known the man since I was 21.  But, time has dulled the ache, the tears are mostly over, and I’m fine without him.  Cheers for me!!  Let the “other woman” deal with his habits now, cause he hasn’t changed and is doing his usual, out running around all the time.  So, I’m free and happy to be!

I’ve also been exploring online dating, not my favorite thing, but when all I do is work, how else would I meet someone?  I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for, meaning do I ever want to marry again?  I guess I’ll see how it goes and who does the asking.  The funny thing is that the guys look so old to me, but who am I kidding?  I’m the same age!!  I’ve met some nice but dull guys, written to a bunch, had a lot of phishing since my age group is targeted as old, desperate, and stupid, (do I want to send them money for whatever scheme they have in mind? HA!) and surprisingly have had a lot of really young guys wanting me to fulfill their sexual fantasies of young guy-older woman.  Dare I say Mrs. Robinson?  But I look at my 65 year old self and say NAH to that.  Really not interested.  I recently had a guy start writing to me and after several weeks of messages that sounded really promising, he decided that I live too far and called it off before we met in person.  This was the first time I saw any possibilities but in typical guy fashion, he would have just disappeared with no notice but I called him on it and at least got a message saying “not going to work”.  But, did I tell you that my sister met a great guy online, after several years of looking, and just set the wedding date!  Happy for her.

The next step will be changing jobs to one that pays better so I can work less, join the local Y and begin working out and swimming, save for a cruise to Italy (God knows when I’ll have saved enough for that!) and move onward and upward.  Since I have to work four more years until I’m 70, I want to get the most out of it.  Starting over has been hard, but not impossible, and I’m proud of myself for staying the course.  I’ve gone through a lot since 2008 and will surely go through more, but I’m up for the challenge.

Until next time!

Shelley

Goodbye to My Husband

While sitting here thinking, reminiscing about the past, the thought comes into my head that I need to say goodbye to my husband. We have been living apart for a year now, though separated for several years before that, me not moving out because of expense and him not moving, I guess, because he wanted me to. But anyway, we stayed in the home and he did what he wanted while I tried to show him that we were worth a second chance while also trying to find a job and accumulate as much money as I could. Our history goes back 40 years; who would have thought we would end up apart? So here’s the story.

I first met him at about age 21 while at my girlfriend’s house. Her husband brought him home for dinner and I happened to be there. It was “something” at first sight, not sure what, but he had just broken up with someone and had a baby so I wouldn’t get involved even though he chased the hell out of me until we finally went our separate ways. Several years later, about age 28, that same husband of the same girlfriend ran into him and brought him home to surprise me. It was a shock but it also was immediately like cupid’s arrow had hit me in the heart. All of the old feelings rushed back; he was alone and I was alone and within a few days, he proposed and moved into my apartment.

The first year was wonderful. We set the date for our wedding and spent every hour together that we could. He had a business and a lot of my off-work time was spent there, bringing hot meals and hanging out, keeping him company after hours. It was wonderful. And then I got pregnant. Unexpected, unplanned, but we were happy about it and moved up our wedding date. However, little cracks began to form between us. I worked full time in retail, on my feet all day, tired all the time, a little crabby, things not quite right between us, but still good. We thought it was the stress, the baby, the wedding, too much work, etc.

So, we married one weekend and then went right back to work, no honeymoon, saving money for baby, who was born right before Christmas. A beautiful, healthy baby boy. My husband was so proud. He had a son. But he was also a truck driver. So the first year of marriage, the first year of parenthood, he was away a lot, and I was too nervous as a new mother to go in the truck with him and we started to grow apart. And little by little, we grew further apart. I developed horrible PMS, he was diagnosed with PTSD (Viet Nam Veteran and a Marine) and chasms began opening up. A lot of detail isn’t necessary here but suffice it to say, we argued a lot. Being a Marine was a part of who my husband was, and is, and I didn’t have a clue what that meant so that made the struggles even harder. There is a lot of personal information that I will not write about but history plays a huge role here and understanding came too late.

So, I met him when I was about 21 and now I’m 64. I often think that getting together the first time we met would have given us more time to become better friends, to grow together, to learn each other, and to have a better chance of making it, but it wasn’t to be. And a few years ago, he told me that he didn’t want to be married anymore, he still loves me, but he isn’t good at relationships, etc., etc. And, of course there was another woman encouraging him to do what will make him happy, why stay when he isn’t happy, etc., etc. You know. So a little over a year ago, he moved out while I was in the hospital and here we are. Since my son and his family live with me, I see my husband regularly and it has taken me a long time to be able to deal with that. But guess what?

I now realize that I am better off without him, should have left one of the many times I thought about it, and am finally much happier than I was for a long time. It was very wearing to always be trying to prove I was a good wife, to always be putting him first, to always champion his causes, to try to understand what was going on, and to deal with a marriage that was not how I wanted it but feeling powerless to change it. I feel free; I feel happy. And when I see him now, I still think he looks good but I’ve worked very hard to not care and to not long for him. I even got a tattoo to symbolize my broken heart, thinking that the pain of the needle would somehow lessen my heart pain, but of course, it didn’t. Sure, I still have sad moments, like today which is why I’m writing this, but also I can be happy without him. Now he is the other woman’s problem and just maybe she is a better fit for him. He wore me out and I’m glad to be done.

My spirit is lighter and I have come to realize just how much that marriage dragged me down and influenced choices I made. It feels good to do what I want, when I want, and not be responsible for taking care of someone else. Would I like another relationship? Maybe. But it would have to be really special before I would invite that person all the way into my life again. For now, sleeping alone in my own bed is fine, with just Rocky for company and my little family in the other rooms.

Yup, I’m happy. Hard earned but true. Goodbye Bill.