Three Things Challenge – No: 159

Todays’ words: ear – peg – trophy

Thought to self e’er bit late 
Divorce for’er seal own fate

Secrets wish ear ne’er hear
Nor family members’ advice adhere

Trophy for long-term faithful wife
Last chapter life alone amid stress ‘n strife

Today without further adieu
Topic no longer wish write ’bout nor read ‘n review

Forgiveness not always ’bout reconcilation
Colorful peg placed quote on visionary board – sense elation.

Three Things Challenge – No: 159

When Tempers Flare

The messenger app dings. I dismiss it for the moment. My daughter, a hair stylist, is finishing up braiding my blonde hair for tonight’s date. I consider myself a creative creature, young for my age and enjoy surprising my man. Today I’ve opted for a bit of the country look.

Top stylists demand pricey fees for up-to-date procedures. My daughter stays informed on what’s new in fashionista.  I’m fortunate to get a huge reduction since I merely offer up price of product plus a tip which she often tells me to keep for myself. It’s nice to have a grateful daughter who realizes it was Mom who once did all the fashion braids on her hair back in the late 80s.

A touch of entitlement accompanied with appreciation for services rendered – Thank you!

She and I live less than 5 minutes away in distance so I choose to wait until back home to retrieve all messages. I look at the cell phone screen and see my current boyfriend’s profile name. His message starts with my name (quite touching) followed by “I won’t be able to make it tonight”.

I’m dumbfounded at this point. A few hours earlier on social network he messaged me with an arrival time.

Usually it’s better to play the ‘wait and see’ card only I’m somewhat beyond angry at this point since I had plans and he via text destroyed them.

I’ve been more than understanding with him during the past few months. This is the final straw. You pal pushed my Irish tyranny button. I’ll have the last say and you won’t like what I type at you.

OMG I’m 70 years in age acting like a teenager in a totally non-adult manner. I wonder how do adults my age react when faced with being stood up without a reason.

I text my daughter. She tells me, “Ma, don’t do anything stupid.” Oops! Too late. I already sent the reply text and social network won’t allow me to delete the message.

For every action there’s always a reaction and I know in my heart his hardheadedness will not allow me back into his life.

This is where I erred allowing my Irish temper to be in the driver’s seat and take a wrong turn. I shall live to regret this directional signal.

Back to single status with yet another lesson learned under my belt – cool off, rethink then react.

 

 

 

 

Relief Versus Sadness

The norm for me is practice the ‘silence is golden’ method in a relationship filled with baggage. It’s a simple pattern of MYOB with minimal enlightenment.

Typing the brief polite farewell text was easy since I was livid at the time. He cancelled our plans without offering up a real explanation other than hoping I’d understand. Really? Understand what? You think I’m psychic.

Press the send button and there’s no turning back. I think. I ponder. I follow thru. Instant relief overcomes me only I’m not prepared for the sadness ahead. My decision was the final curtain to end a relationship with no future where he was always in the driver’s seat and I the passenger at his mercy.

Reflecting on our brief time together I was constantly there for him. I encouraged him. I stroked his ego when he was into self-blame. I allowed him his space. Although not asked I utilized precious time researching the life of an addict and how it affects the family dynamics.

Slowly though it became clearly evident he had less and less time for me thus I had to face the realization of what an addict does to himself and his family members. My man is an enabler and grows weary early on of his son’s demands for cash. I watch in bewilderment.

His hardheadedness is worse than the Zodiac sign ‘Taurus the Bull’. He knows he’s an enabler yet he’s so fearful of his kid’s safety he forks over hundreds of dollars of hard-earned cash on a monthly basis.

Wake-up to reality I think. You aren’t helping your child. The stack of lies he’s fed you far exceeds the height of some of the world’s tallest skyscrapers. How can you be so naïve?  I can’t say even a ‘boo’ since this is not my child nor my problem.

Sadly I see a whole different picture than you. Until your kid seeks treatment, winds up behind bars or worse he will make your life a living hell, drain your wallet, your savings and possibly have an adverse affect on your health.

I can emphasize with your problems only I can’t honestly say I’d know how to handle a similar situation would one of my children fall victim to the world of drugs. I prefer to think I’d practice tough love which is the hardest form of love.

Two days later the tears flow. I’ll be okay I tell myself. It’s better to curb a relationship in the bud than waste precious time until my endurance for the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘hope you understand’ reach the extremes .

 

 

Walking in the Shadow of Men

Melancholy overcomes me as I realize it’s my father’s birthday. He left me 38 years ago for what I hope to be a better place. I was 21 years young, a wife and mother.

It saddens me to reflect back to my own childhood days and lack of precious memories and few pictures.

People don’t always know what hides behind my smile. Oh, what tales of woe I’ve managed to keep to myself.

I am the daughter of an alcoholic parent who chose to take the high road. Who would want to repeat unpleasant experiences with their own children.

Thus I became the model wife taking care of myself in all ways and the best Mother to my four children.

Deceit entered into the picture portrayal of marital bliss several times. Eventually I had enough of deceitfulness and filed for divorce.

Children of alcoholics often are people pleasers and ‘yes’ I fit that description to a T. Where and when did I opt to refrain from the two-letter adverb ‘NO’ in my vocabulary.

Recently I re-discovered the above negative word when a newfound blossoming relationship soured to the point of no return. With that discovery I experienced quite a refreshing feeling  ‘I am free’. I learned my lesson before. I no longer walk in the shadow of any man.

Single at Sixty

Writing a dating profile takes careful forethought of perception (how do I wish to be seen by the opposite sex).

In fairness to a potential partner it’s best to be honest, upfront and straightforward. I doubt there is a one-size-fits-all category for either man or woman. Visual seems to be quite important to men when window shopping.

Men shared stories with me with regard to their face-to-face meetings of gals who portrayed themselves to be younger and thinner. I can’t say I blame them with regard to disappointment since I don’t wish to be blindsided either.

Personally I have read profiles of men who stated how often they frequented the gym only their pictures told an entirely different story. Usually a buff man doesn’t appear to be carrying around a five-month old baby onboard. A little LOL to those men.

Men, I assume to impress the ladies, show off pics of their motorcycles, boats, campers and state they own their own homes. Really guys! You just offered up a prescription to the ‘golddigger’.

Numerous men post younger pics before current pics. Some even keep the same one for years along with outdated text information. Hilarious is when a man posts a dated photo. Oops, your camera sold you out beforehand.

For we women who suddenly find ourselves single in our sixties the dating world can be disheartening at its’ best. Time has changed the mechanisms of how relationships work.

Confidence is quite an attractive quality to portray on a profile. Am I a snob? Definitely not. I am selective. I am also what is known as a ‘work in progress’. I eat healthy, walk and recently joined a new local gym.

I may be blonde only not exactly dumb. I educate myself and not afraid of being truthful when asked questions.

Honesty has always been the best policy for me to this day so if fake is what a man is looking for then fake is what he’ll find.

I opt for a genuine man who doesn’t lie under any circumstances and one who knows that ‘communication’ is the key to a budding and lasting relationship.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love Changes Us

The power of love is like no other force to be reckoned with by one’s heart. How do I stop these feelings? I don’t want to be in love with this new man.

Somehow my thinking ‘no way’ doesn’t keep my heart from yearning for his daily texts nor the sight of his name next to the messenger icon on my cell phone.

I reflect back in time to my marital partner, the 175 pound weightlifter who captured my heart in the 60s. I remember his love in so many forms and how his love brightened many a dreary day. The mere sound of his TR6 shifting through gears following a hard day’s work as it approached our home would light up my face. Love had its’ hold on me.

Unfortunately when marital bliss became marital discord it was healthier for mind and body to part ways. I vowed ‘never again’ would I allow myself to love another man so deeply.

To many I appeared to be the ultimate source of strength and endurance throughout this ordeal called divorce.  Loss and pain had crossed my path and consumed me yet few knew the inner turmoil in my gut as I continued to smile and remain my calm self.

Stress didn’t have a face.

No longer did I trust those close to my former partner. I created a new life for myself filled with daily activities and new friendships. I struggled to make sense of the who, what, where, why and when.

Eventually I succeeded in my quest for inner peace and happiness when suddenly out of nowhere a new man appeared on scene. Instead of being totally opposite of my former husband he possessed many similar traits.

Great! I tell myself to curb this relationship before like turns into love only the mind and heart are definitely not in sync.

I proceed with caution.

Eventually my haunting past managed to intervene and the realization of similarities in men became overwhelmingly way too much to handle. Sooner rather than later the new man and I part ways. Another chapter in my life of love, the uncontrollable force, enters finality.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When in Doubt Ladies

Gut instinct, similar to traffic lights, forewarns of possible danger down the road in the form of heartbreak.  Why can’t we proceed with caution at the yellow light as we do in the world of driving is a good question.

With age comes wisdom and most would think warning signs of disaster ahead would flash that red light a.k.a. warning light to put on the brakes.

The heart often fools us, thus we foolishly forge ahead selecting the green light ‘go’ to find ourselves in unknown territory settling for the wrong person rather than sticking to our original stats and waiting for the ‘perfect’ one for us.

Single status in ’60s’ comes with numerous obstacles in the form of health issues and suitcases filled with baggage.

Choices. Choices.

Gut instinct in turmoil rarely lies to us. The wisest option may be to walk away since you are the prize to be won over not the doormat for a man to walk upon.

Ladies, lace up those sneakers and run for the hills.