Members of my Albany family often get together for dinner. Witty banter is exchanged, like a real family. My daughter fights with my best friend’s son as if they are siblings. Last night dinner was at my house. I made several dishes from The Homesick Texan’s cookbooks (yes, I have both.) Anything I have ever made from her cookbooks is a hit. I highly recommend them. We started joking that my husband should be a Texas rancher. Except I can’t move to Texas so he would have to set up a ranch in our suburban town.
I may have posted a joke about this on social media as my sense of humor can be inappropriate at times. Part of it is my personality. If you follow the Meyers-Briggs philosophy, I am an INFJ. My blog friend Jessica is an INFJ as well and she often writes about INFJ problems. She so gets me. One of her recent posts is about INFJ humor and our ability to tell jokes that make others uncomfortable. The other part of my inappropriate sense of humor is dark humor, which is typical of widows. The way I look at it is, if you have lived through dark times, then you can joke about it.
But I want to be clear, I am not marrying a rancher from Texas.
I am not marrying anyone.
I am not dating anyone.
I am not sleeping with anyone. (Though it would not be anyone’s business if I was sleeping with anyone and no one’s place to judge. I am just not interested. Besides, I would probably start crying halfway through this activity and I am pretty sure that is not considered a turn-on. Though some people are into some weird stuff so you never know).
I am not marrying anyone. I was married to a man who was the love of my life and my best friend. I don’t know if there are even words to describe the love between us. We were a team and we fit. Sure, we had problems and arguments, but got through them. We both had strong personalities and we had our groove. We supported one another as individuals and as a part of our team. Bryon was the first man I ever let my guard down too and he never let me down.
My Grandma Sullivan was widowed when she was 76 and was never remarried before she died at the age of 90. I remember her joking about two things with me. One was that she was going to buy a pair of jeans (though she called them dungarees). The second thing she joked about was getting a boyfriend. I didn’t see a problem with it, but I remember my grandmother just saying that she could never find a man who would compare to my grandfather. My grandmother was an Irish woman and she was not one to express emotions and my younger self didn’t detect any emotion in her comment but now I know that comment was full of emotion. Now I totally understand exactly what she was saying.
Will I ever remarry? Possibly. I was good at being a wife. I can cook. I am not bothered if dinner is interrupted by a work call. I don’t mind sports being on the TV. Oh, and I will stay by your side when you are sick. But I really hope that Bryon’s situation doesn’t happen to anyone again, especially anyone I know. But right now I struggle to think anyone could capture my heart like Bryon did. There was only one of him and he was perfect. I doubt there is anyone out there that would be perfect for my broken heart or could understand what a widow goes through.
Will I ever date? Someday, maybe, but right now I feel “meh” about it. I have never been good at dating and I just don’t have any desire to enter the meat market. Plus, I know that even the best relationships are work and right now I am not ready for that kind of work. Especially when most guys would probably be mediocre. I have spent my life trying to do well in all my roles- the good wife, the good mother, the good daughter, the good friend. Those roles are important, but there was one area I was never concerned about and that was being good to myself. I need to sort out who I really am as opposed to who I have been expected to be.
So I am not marrying anyone and I am not dating anyone and I don’t plan on doing either anytime soon. Oh, and I am not sleeping with anyone and I don’t plan on doing that anytime soon either. Until I am ready for any of those things, I have so many things to do. I have a story I need to write. I need to figure out where I stand with God and I need to decide if there is any point to being religious. I have a nightstand with three ridiculously tall piles of books I need to read. I have races to train for. I have places to travel to and weddings to attend. I have a stack of cookbooks full of recipes that I need to try. I have crime TV shows to watch even if they scare me and then I can’t sleep. I have a garden to tend to. I have a house to redecorate. And all of this gets worked around my daughter’s schedule and spending time with my friends. And once I know what my daughters dreams are, then some of our adventures will revolve around that. Right now I know she likes gymnastics and aquariums.
After I accomplish all of this, then we will see about the whole love bit.