My husband was out of town for business this past week.
As I’m winding down for the evening, I receive the following text:
Sitting at the bar of the steak house that I am at and there is a woman in her 70s who is cracking me up.
My response?
That’s the kind of woman I want you to pick up in bars:)
He chatted with this lady through the evening, sharing pieces of their conversation with me.
She was in her mid 70s and was recently widowed after being married for 50 years.
50 years.
With the same person.
And then they’re gone.
Wow.
I remember how alien it was to be alone after 16 years.
But that’s a drop in the bucket.
My husband was drawn to this woman’s energy. She had made the decision to fully embrace this next chapter of her life, even though it wasn’t asked for.
She got a tattoo. On her butt.
She dates younger men. Plural. Her pick line? “Do you have life alert? I’ve fallen for you and can’t get up.”
She is going ziplining this week and told stories of her other adventures.
She didn’t use the excuse, “I’m too old.” She didn’t live in the past, although she didn’t forget it either.
She shared a bit of marital advice with my husband.
Write notes. Lots of them.
She went on to talk about how her husband left her notes on an almost daily basis. She laughed about it at the time since their frequency made them not-so-special.
But then he became ill. And he died.
And now she looks back at the notes and smiles, remembering the relationship.
And now she realizes that even if each note may not have seemed special at the time, the accumulation of them is priceless because it speaks of the affection and bond held through the years.
I understand.
Brock and I are note writers. It’s amazing the power of a few simple words or a smily face can have on your mood and outlook. I have a folder filled with the ones I have received from him over the years. I hope I’ll need a box to hold them before the end.
I enjoyed my by proxy evening with the this woman – a reminder that you are never too old, that you can fully embrace life after unwanted change and to never take yourself too seriously.
I think I’ll hold off on that gluteal tattoo, however:)
Lessons From the End of a Marriage 