In a recent phone conversation with Vicki, the subject somehow got directed onto my situation of living alone. She seemed greatly concerned for my welfare, in a motherly fashion of course.
For the uninformed, my situation came about with the passing of my Gracious and Loving wife of 63 years, in January 2009.
Vicki suggested I should get out, circulate among groups, such as one of the Senior Citizen groups in the area, church groups and the like, and even ask one of the church ladies out to lunch. You know, let the big cat roam!
However, after 63 years of a close, and fruitful married life, where opportunities for different relationships are strictly limited, I find my “dating” skills are badly corroded and in serious need of retraining. Not that they were all that hot to begin with. I don’t remember the line I used when she hooked ME! It must have been a dooozie! Bless her heart.
Anyway, I did go to church, with more than a spiritual up lift in mind, and looked over the supply of potential “companions“, in lieu of a better word.
In our small country church, I could see maybe five ladies that fall in that category, and not one of them have ever “missed” anything,
There’s “Miss” Annie Carpenter, about 85 or so, a “dipper.” (Uses snuff)
Nice enough person, but, com’on!
“Miss” Ruthie Jackson, pushing 80, sweet personality, weighs three pounds less than a full grown steer, and they say obesity will shorten your life.
Wonderful, likable, country girls I’m sure, but I could feel nothing there.
After several visits to the Senior Center over in Woodland, a different bunch. A group of twenty or so men and ladies meet Wednesday mornings for lunch, cards, conversation, etc. Mostly etc. The conversation is divided such that the men talk about what could have been, and the ladies talk about their neighbors. Nothing there.
Well, about three months ago, a widowed lady moved into the neighborhood, to live with her son and his family.
I thought there would be no harm, so, I say, “Ray, boy, let’s check it out.”
Turns out she is a real nice lady, in the high 70’s, or so, pert little thing.
It seems she gets lonely from time to time same as do I. So, after getting to know the lady, and making several casual visits, I decided to ask her out.
After several attempts at asking her out, she finally accepted!
With my heart aflutter we agreed on a time and date.
Last Wednesday night, I drove my 1999 Ford pick-up down the road and over the hill, picked her up, helped her with the seat belt, and I took her out to dinner at the world famous restaurant, known as ‘The Golden Arches.’ A Big Mac, double fries, and shake, and in a cozy booth to ourselves, where, for the next two hours, we delightfully extolled the virtues if our grandchildren. Dinner for two, meaningful conversation. Can’t beat it!
It was a nice night, so after dinner, we took a leisurely stroll under the lights at the local mall, her with her walker, and I with my cane. We spent a lovely evening, comparing the labels on the latest additions at the Wal-Mart pharmacy. I was amazed at her knowledge of pharmaceutical chemistry.
As it was getting quite late, most 7 PM, we decided to call it a night and head home.
At the parting, on her door step, I decided to go for a friendly peck on the cheek, you know, nothing serious.
As I was going through the motions to do so, she slapped my face to the extent it broke my upper plate.
Too bad about the uppers, however, I wasn’t there for crumpets and tea anyway.
As it turned out, that night was a learning experience for me, alright!
I allow it was my fault, as I overplayed my hand. I should have just shook her hand, then she couldn’t have broken my uppers.
Then, too, the double fries may have been a bit over the top!
Do you suppose there’s an APS for geriatric dating?