PREPARATION MEETS OPPORTUNITY

Exercising makes me happy.

I exercise every Monday, Wednesday & Friday in Castle Rock, at the Senior Center there.

I enjoy the drive.

I enjoy the chit-chat.

I enjoy the physical activity.

Coal Creek from Heron Pointe - 5 mins.

Castle Rock from Coal Creek; via Delameter Road - 19 mins.

Full body workout; 10 rep on Mondays – 15 reps on Wednesdays & Fridays. Hiking on alternate days 😉

Spending some time with people makes me happy: not all-day-time, but some time, at some point, in my day.

Driving country backroads makes me happy. 

Playing a couple games of pool makes me happy.

Today, I managed to accomplish 3 of the above 4 things that make me happy … tomorrow, I will score on #4 😊

After exercise class this morning, I drove the Hazel Dell backroad home; because I wanted to enjoy a relaxing country drive, and because I wanted to stop at the Senior Center downtown, passing through Longview – and that backroad would take me in the direction I wanted to head into.

Hazel Dell Road from Castle Rock - 9 mins.

Snoopy spotted out Hazel Dell Road; this tickled my funny bone.

Longview Senior Center from Hazel Dell Road; via Hazel Dell Road-West Side Highway & Commerce - 18 mins.

I wanted to pick up their monthly itinerary; but basically, I wanted to find out more about the pool tables I’ve seen there 😉

I asked if the pool tables were open tables: at the Castle Rock Senior Center, the pool tables there, are always ‘taken’ by the old geezers that never take a rest between games. Getting a chance to play is impossible.

And while I didn’t mind bending over the table when Bob was standing beside me: I feel weird about having my ass on view with strange men gawking at it – I’m short; to get at some of those angles to make a decent shot, I’d have to stand on my toes and hike my ass up in the air to stretch into the play … that was okay when Bob was standing beside me.

Bob isn’t standing beside me anymore.

And I don’t want to start prowling bars on the off-chance that opportunity for a game will occur there … college kids and just-released-parolees haunt those tables: not interested in either.

I need a safe place to plant my ass, now. 

It’s an old ass, admittedly: but old, young, or stupid … men are still men.

So, I have been praying for an open table in a comfortable setting.

Today I got lucky 😉 

The guy who took my $20/yearly membership fee, told me, “there is a woman who comes here to play pinochle – and she was just saying the other day she wishes she had someone to play pool with; would you be interested?”

I said, “Yes! I’d be interested.”

So, he called her and she asked if we could meet tomorrow and play a game … so, I’ll be up early tomorrow morning for my 9 AM game. I hope I’m alert enough to play a decent game: noon would be better for me.

I joined the Longview Senior Center this afternoon ... primarily to use the pool table.

I hope it goes good tomorrow. 

I haven’t played pool in 7 years.

I hope she plays a ‘straight game’ … I don’t know how to play 8-Ball.

Bob and I always played straight pool: players call what ball they will try for (stripes or solids), and work into sinking “a run of 14”, using the 15^th ball to start another rack to continue shooting more games. 

And I play for fun – I don’t like to play cut-throat; that takes all the fun out of the game. I don’t mind a competitive player, but I don’t like mean, poor losers. 

I’m a pretty good player when I’m “on my game”: I learned from the best, and I played with the best. I’m a quick picker-upper. But I will not play with a cut-throat player. 

I play for fun. 

I play for relaxation.

I play for the love of the game.

TRYING TO SORT MY ‘FEELS’

 

It’s been 29 months/6 days/4 hours & 20 minutes.

Exactly.

And aside from the acute missingness I get hit with now and then … my life really is a very good one.

I have loved deeply, and passionately; and I have been loved deeply and passionately.

I have a home. Paid for. 

I have a car. Paid for.

I have financial security – Bob paid for. 

There’s no need to secure a job; I can enjoy retirement 100%.

My health, at 64, is relatively good; aside from the environmental asthma aspect – and the occasional arthritis flareup.

When I am stuck indoors for days on end (like now, with constant rainfall for days on end), my thoughts still wander to the memories of my 44-year-lifespan with Bob (and even longer – to the 7 years before those 44, when I loved him before I even knew him): 51 years of loving one man. The memories are all good.

Over the last 6 months, I have been living more in the present.

The memories still come; but not as frequent – and they don’t tear at my heart. I’m okay with that.

Sometimes, I still cry when a memory visits my thoughts and heart.

But the crying is not as frequent – and not as heartbreaking. I’m really okay with that.

My eyes don't look continually sad; and my life doesn't appear haunted anymore.

Some mornings, waking up to the reality of my empty life now; I wonder if those 44 years of intimate life, with the love of my life, was just a dream.

But, standing in the shower, I see the barely visible stretch marks on my breasts that attest to my pregnancy. I carried our love child (conceived in marriage – formed in all-consuming-passionate love) in my body for 9 months. That was not a dream.

That child we created in the late Spring of 1975, added two more; a girl in the Fall of 1995, and a boy in the Summer of 2014. They are not a dream.

He shared his life with me for most of my life. That is a real fact. My body, and the yield of our love attests to that.

I see Bob’s handsome face smiling at me from the picture of US that sits atop the fireplace mantel in the livingroom.

Those snapshot moments were not a dream.

He lived.

1967

That was a real fact.

April 19th, 1974

Pictures testify to that.

August 1974. Endless Love 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Bwwo7ctG10

Though Bob was – and still is, my ‘dream man’; he was a very real part of my life for most of my life. I married him at 17½, and was widowed at 61½ … 15 days before my 62^nd birthday.

His physical body died, the Winter of 2018. That is a real fact: the little blue Urn … that matches his eye color … that holds ashy residue as proof of his living, and sits on the fireplace mantle next to his picture; attests to that.

Proof that Bob was ...

I know Bob’s presence in my life was not ‘just a dream’ – even thought the passing of time without his physical presence, can at times feel like all of it was a dream.

A beautiful, out of reach dream. 

And I am, after everything that has transpired in my life from December 14^th, 2018, to today June 6^th, 2021, waking up to the fact that for me, life still must go on.

Fully.

Not half-assed.

This is not a new concept: I’ve been actively turning the new pages of my new life for quite some time, now. All of 2020 to be exact.

But, staring at this new page before me today, I’m not quite sure how to continue penciling ‘moving forward’, in.

I have gained new friendships since December 2018.

I have gained confidence with the help of those new friendships, and waded into the daunting depths of social life activities (minus the dating scene) since October of 2019.

I have ventured out of my comfort zone both socially, and figurately; as I zipped back and forth in the car, between home base and places close to home (avoiding the freeway – hate the frenzied freeway action; and the sudden crying jags out of nowhere) that I decided to revisit – all of 2020.

I spread my wings a little broader, and more wide-ranging, as soon as weather permitted this year (occasionally traveling the freeway short distances – so far; helped with no frenzied freeway anxiety; and no crying jags out of nowhere): so far, so good as 2021 unfolds 😉

But staring at the new page before me in the next chapter of my new life, I don’t know how to proceed forward.

The pencil is poised to scratch its way across this new page – to mark more new beginnings … and I am hesitant to begin.

I miss having someone in my life. 

Not just anyone: a partner. 

An equal companion. 

Someone who cares that I walk this Earth.

A best-friend-person; someone I can be myself with.

A “go-to” person who won’t judge me – someone who will meet me on my terms, and who will accept me unconditionally.

Someone I can share my remaining life with. 

Someone more than a casual friend; less than a lover-friend.

A best-friend-type of someone … who has no expectations of becoming ‘spouse’.

It’s a complicated kind of friendship. 

But I do believe it exists – and I want it. 

I miss the daily teasing banter that comes with easy companionship.

I miss sharing the differing male-female insights in conversations. 

I miss cooking/sharing a meal with someone.

I miss someone riding in the passenger seat: and sharing the day with me, on an adventurous daytrip.

I miss sharing nature’s breathtaking beauty with someone.

I miss sharing life’s milestones with someone. 

Ideally, I want to share all of those things with Bob. 

But Bob is no longer here. 

Bob will never be here again. 

And life goes on.

MY LIFE must still go on … and move fully into the future.

Leaping, and embracing fully, includes a new someone.

No one is ever so libreated they exclude others.

People need people in thier lives.

Yeshua created us with that basic need for companionship.

I do miss someone in my life: I miss being in someone’s life – I can’t truthfully deny that fact.

You’ve Got A Friend; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvvJ7MYaK8o

That’s What Friends Are For: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQDo8ZkvI_E

But I still love my husband.

Deeply.

Passionately – I can’t truthfully deny that fact, either.

Right Down the Line;  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmLkJAy60OE

In My Life: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AT6n5ws4vWk

Adding a new someone to my current new life story is best done in pencil instead of pen: pencil is amendable – pen in permanent.

Trying to sort {my feels} is complex. 

My life with Bob shaped my life – all of my life; even the life I am advancing into, today. My life (no matter what stage) will always include Bob’s imprint.

So, with pencil poised to mark a new page in a new day – I ask, am I really ready for this new leap forward?

Will I be able to control what unfolds, following the leap?

I know what I want … will the futuristic unknown ‘someone’ respect my limitations as things move forward?

This current page in my unfolding life may remain unmarked for quite a while, still, before the pencil begins its scratching entries.

Babe, what should I do?

Help me!

I Will Always Love You: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGs1soJT9gE

Yeshua!

Prepare me for whatever comes.

I’m Gonna Be Ready: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpbCR-MaEEk

EVERYTHING IS A 'GO!'

This morning I took the Highlander for its scheduled maintenance appointment at Dick Hannah’s in Kelso – it got an oil change and a new filter; and the tire treads passed … for the time being: they will definitely need changed out, come Winter.

But for now, they got a passing grade for my planned trip to Lincoln City 😊

July’s anticipation is a “GO!”

Before I make that trip, though, I am going to spend some time at home.

I need to give my left leg some relief from the all-day-long sitting position (I noticed some burning along my shin, and a pinch in my lower back on last Sunday’s daytrip around the Olympic Peninsula); it’s time now to cut back on the Ibuprofen, and walk some kinks out to relieve nerve pressure.

I do not want a repeat of last year’s painful experience; moderation is the name of the game when it comes to lengthy driving/sitting time.

Mustang Sally: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKzQMKliV24

Stand up and walk about time is necessary.

There is stuff that needs tending to on the home front: I can get those things done while giving my leg a rest before I hit the road in a few weeks for the 4-hour drive to Lincoln City (8 to 10 hours if I drive back home the same day).

Shelving needs to be put up in the shed. 

The Coho Bench needs refinished .

A few moderate local hikes need to take place.

Driving home on my way back from Kelso this afternoon, I stopped at Lowe’s to grab some things I need to touch up the Coho Bench: the finish is wearing thin, so it needs touching up. It’s going to be tricky business, but I am going to do what I can do – and hope for the best.

The Coho Bench needs a finishing touch-up; not sure how I will manage on my own - but I WILL.

The bench is not heavy … it’s bulky.

Ideally, it would be a snap to retouch it if two people were involved.

Two people do not live here anymore. 

There is only me: 1 person.

I cannot tip the bench to do the job as it needs to be done.

So, I will have to manage the job, best as I can, the only way I can.

Determination: it needs doing – the doing is up to me. The bench “fix” is my responsibility.

Some careful shuffling, so as not to scrape the porch paint – thereby necessitating repainting the porch to “fix” the scruffy scruff marks.

Somehow manage to maneuver a protective drop cloth under the bulky bench so none of the very liquified wood stain messes up the porch paint – thereby necessitating repainting the porch to “fix” the messy mess.

I am a mess-cat, generally, when painting; this varnish paint is messy to begin with – the whole undertaking could realistically get very messy.

I decided to forgo using a paint brush – the very thought had “disaster!” screaming nonstop. I’ve decided to cover my hands and arms with plastic gloves that will reach my elbows … and use varnish sodden shop rags to apply the varnish smoothly; in hope that much of the messy endeavor will be curbed. The varnish may still drip down the coho back rest portion of the bench, hence the drop cloth.

The finishing sealer ... and everything I hope will help me get it done without too much mess.

And I will be wearing clothes that can go into the trash can after this paint project is completed – knowing me as I do, the clothes will be ruined by the time the projected project is completed.

The Coho Bench project is a “GO!”

I also stopped at Fred Meyers on the way home to grab a few grocery items I was too lazy to drive all the way across town to Winco’s, to get. If I was doing a big grocery shopping, I’d have driven across town – but for 4 items, Freddy’s was closer 😉

Pulling out of Fred Meyer’s parking lot, I was greeted by a macabre sight that instantly had me laughing.

This pricked my funny bone.

My funny bone is a little twisted.

I laughed the entire 5 minutes to home.

And now, I’m headed down the hallway to the bedroom, where I’ll read a new book into the wee hours of tomorrow’s morning; a storyline soaked in the richness of life, and the humor of the innocence of a simple, sweet lifestyle.

New Read.

From macabre humor to sweet and simple: I’m a sugar and spice kinda gal 😊

My life is back on track; and both sides of my humor is a “GO!”