Remember awhile back when I wrote about a date I went on and I really liked the guy? Well, I still do. We’ve been on many outings since then. In fact, I haven’t gone out with anyone else.
Nicholas and I have met his three children as well as his extended family. Unfortumately, his ex is still holding on to the past.
Having been around the blended family block, my focus has changed. I don’t want to place my attention anywhere that it doesn’t need to be.
I think I get something now that I didn’t get then–I don’t have to worry myself about their mother considering we have no direct relationship.
Hindsight certainly is 20/20!
I’ve been asked on a date by a guy who seems different from the Men @ Work (he’s single for starters). He has been very sensitive and understanding about my loss. He is a good conversationalist and has listened attentively for the last month to my deepseated, ardent lamentations. This has been a good outlet for me as I don’t like to constantly burden family and friends with my tales of woe. I don’t feel that he has a hidden agenda either. It has been close to six months and I am finally at the point in which I have accepted my husband’s death.
I do think an occassional, platonic dinner and a movie would be okay, but I don’t know! It could just be my loneliness talking. Maybe this step would help me enter back into the Land of the Living?
No, I’m not talking about the Australian rock band, I’m alluding to the many men who have seemingly come out of thin air to attract my attention. I have been completely overwhelmed by the number of men vying for it. Some, I’m sure, don’t have the purest of intentions.
A vast majority of my would-be suitors are people I work with. I’m sorry, but I find this incredibly tacky considering that they know my situation. It has only been four months for crying outloud! I am really disturbed by their lack of decorum. I am not interested in being pursued or going on any dates. I know that I am not giving them any signs to appraoch me; but it hasn’t deterred them yet.
Here are a few of the said men who make their interest obvious:
- The Headcase: If the world is indeed a crazy place, then Eliza’s brother is the commander-in-chief! How he would even have the audacity to think that I’d have him beats me!!!! His arrogance is offensive! In the words of Cher from the movie Clueless “As if!”
- The Head Custodian: He is a handsome older man (mid 40’s) whom I have worked with the longest. I am not interested.
- The Substitute: The female students and teachers alike describe him as gorgeous. It’s crazy the reaction that he gets because I don’t find him good-looking and he is annoying to boot. He is also a masseur. I like “manly” men, not androgynous metrosexuals. I am not interested.
- The Special Ed Teacher: Married, no need to say anymore (but if you let him tell it, he’s not happy at home, no sympathy found here!) I am not interested.
- The Former Coworker: He is fair looking, but too intense for my liking. He heard through the grapevine about my husband’s death and attended the funeral. I am not interested.
- The Neighbor: Married, no need to say anymore! I am not interested.
- The School Police Officer: Older man, not my type. He looks like Ving Rhames with a Caesar. I am not interested.
- The Mechanic: An older guy who seems nice enough. I’m not interested.
- The Sheriff’s Deputy: Another older guy (late 30’s early 40’s). He is the same one who gave my battery a jump when my car wouldn’t start. My husband and I knew him from our frequent appearances in family court. He’s weird. I am not interested.
- The Reverend: He is an older man who looks much younger than he is (66 to be exact) and was the same clergyman who baptized my husband as a child! He has not directly stated his intentions, but his actions (I relunctantly admit) do. My friend Kara calls me “Shocked and Appalled” because some things that shouldn’t surprise me just do! I mean he is way too old for me, he knows my inlaws, he is a man of the cloth—-it’s too much for me to even ponder! This one makes me the most uncomfortable.
The bottom line is I am not interested! I want to use this time to heal. If I am meant to have another person in my life, I believe it will happen naturally. At this point I am not seeking nor do I want to be saught. Some men are disgusting creatures!
My first encounter with men and grief was at my grandmother’s funeral. My uncle, an imposing figure sheathed in dark sunglasses sat solemnly. I could hardly contain myself and screamed like a banshee periodically throughout the service. That was until my uncle slowly turned to me and said No more outbursts in a slightly menancing tone. I knew he had had his own private spell the night before as I overhead his wife telling my mother and her sisters all about it. I cried silently for the remainder of the service.
Over the years I’ve observed the males in my family and the way they handle grief. Some avoid funerals. My cousin did not attend my mother’s and when I inquired why, he shrugged and said I can’t do it–too many in this family. Other cousins missed funerals I guess for the same reason.
At the hospital when I talked to my siblings about the severity of our mother’s illness, my brother (Jazmine’s father) immediatedly asked that someone take him to the store. By the time they returned to the hospital, my mother had died. His responded to the news by walking the halls taking long swigs from a fifth of gin.
The night my husband died three of his very closest childhood friends met me at the hospital. I knew there would be tears but I was surprised by the depth of emotions emanating from them. All I could hear were loud, heaving sobs coming from the trio. One of my coworkers who attended the funeral said that she was astounded at how many of my husband’s friends were openly crying. That’s what broke me down; seeing all those young guys crying like that she said to me days later. I’ve never seen anything like it.
So why is it uncomforatble for his friends and male family members to hear me grieve? They call and check on me and stop by on occassion. But I can tell they can’t handle the tears. They don’t know what to say to me. Last night his friend Corey called but I didn’t bother to answer the phone. I don’t want to pretend that I am okay to spare anybody’s feelings. Why they would even think I am okay puzzles me. I want to scream to them all–NO, I AM NOT OKAY–SO STOP ASKING! IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE ME NOT BEING OKAY, THEN DON”T CALL TO SEE IF I AM OKAY! But I know that they mean well and I appreciate that they are even checking on me at all…
My SIL texted me last night to see how we’ve been getting along. She said she was doing okay. I replied that I was glad she was because I wasn’t and I let her know how I was REALLY doing. She seemed relieved and responded that she wasn’t doing well either, but she didn’t want to upset me. I feel more comfortable sharing my true feelings with the women that I am close with because they can handle it.
I know males are reared in a society in which they are often told that men don’t cry. This has always been silly to me because most beings with tear ducts cry. Crying is cleansing. It is a way to purge the soul of toxins such as sadness.
While I try not to cry too much in front of my son, I do let him know that it is okay to cry and that some things are worth crying for.
Yesterday I felt like such a damsel in distress when my car wouldn’t start. I stopped at the gas station after work to fill up even though I had half a tank of gas to go. The temperature is getting really low here and I did not want to risk my tank freezing.
I hate pumping gas! This was something my husband usually did for me. So I felt proud of myself for getting out in the artic cold to get the job done. However, when I hopped back in and started the car, the engine wouldn’t turn over. I was shocked and tried again. No luck. I was puzzled considering that my car is fairly new.
I sat for a few minutes as I decided what to do. I remembered that my road side service had expired a couple months back. Luckily Nicholas was asleep in the back seat and I had not picked Jazmine up yet. I called my aunt to ask her advice and possibly to get a ride. She suggested that I try getting a jump until my cousin came back with her truck. “Are there any men around that you can ask for help?” she inquired.
It was many men floating about but I felt too shy to ask for assistance. It was cold out and I really didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. I finally gathered my courage and asked several men for a jump. They all claimed to have no jumper cables. One man said he didn’t know how to give a jump. No one looked concerned. I asked a few more men and a lone woman. No luck. I was a bit surprised at the apathy and relunctance. I felt so alone!
I almost started crying at the absurdity of it all. I just wanted to call my husband who would have double-timed it to get to me. I felt stuck. I finally thought to call my uncle and as I was talking to him, the car started! I drove over to their house and he looked at it. He checked the alternator and the starter which both tested fine. He said it could have been that the fuel injection system needed degunking so he put a treatment in my tank.
I felt really thankful for his help. I plan to get my road service renewed as well, as I don’t want to be caught out in the cold ever again!