I Remember Being Happy
Looking at all the happy people at Margarettaville was a nice site. I remember being happy . There is a nice energy in the air when you witness it. I got my doggy Chico in with me since he is a service dog. I had to pick him up so the dancing crowd would not squash the little cutie pie. Being Thanksgiving weekend I had family guests with me and we played pool. I begged out after seeing an entire game went by without me getting one ball in the pocket. My nephew was smooth with his shots and truly impressed me. We visited the largest growing retirement Village in the United States. It's called the Villages. It closes up aobut 9pm.
All alone here again with you and my typewriter. What would one do without a computer. I was in that between ages. When I retired from teaching I almost was convinced I did not need one until my son in law convinced me to buy one from his friend’s store. So now I get to play chess everyday with people around the world and trade on eBay. There’s a whole world out there on the internet and I am an active participant.
So, my husband picked Central Florida to move to from Long Beach, NY. Three years later he died at 5am like Tim Russet. Still in shock. My world collapsed. I was the happiest woman on the face of the earth living with the perfect husband. He was the sexiest man of the face of the earth. Not only was he a wizard at the stock market, a great golfer and gourmet cook-he was loving and took such care of me. After retiring from being a High School Principal his new job was me. I was a handful. John provided for me after his death. I have it all except the most important ingredient-my true love.
So I surfed the internet and saw Tampa has a ski group going to Breckinridge. I decided to go for it with strangers. It won’t be like skiing in Vermont by our ski home with a gang of friends-but it will be skiing. I look forward to great exercise and beauty in the mountains of Colorado. Maybe I should just book trip after trip. I am living here in a place my friend’s call “Buttfuck” since they cannot see being North of Boca unless you’re in New York. I see their point when I pass 3 cow pastures on the way to the Post Office. I was told not to brag about being surrounded by horses and buffalo here-so I won’t.
I joined a club unwittingly. The sisterhood of widows. Never thought I’d be one. I imagined we die in some disaster together. Maybe a plane crash or hitting a tree skiing together. No such luck. I am here and my Johnny is not. Should I pair up with another man. I look around and see nice folk that are not like me. They are mostly from the central states in my golf community. When you leave my gated country club you run into men with piercings, tattoo’s and backwards hat. Some of them have all their teeth. So maybe I will not meet another and I am too frozen to move further South at this time.
My girlfriend has been widowed 15 years and prefers a solo life. She told me you have to kiss a lot of frogs and then you still do not find Mr. Right. I lived with Mr. Perfect so what to do-watch TV, golf and surf the internet and fast forward commercials. It’s a life of sorts.
I attended a grievance group here that depressed me even more than I was before going. It had parents that lost their children. I could not bear their pain and then I was told I could not truly grieve if I did not take Jesus Christ into my life. So I am about the only Jew in this area and there were no Jewish grievance groups-so at my age I should be able to handle my pain with my brain. I have had years of education and taught high school health and PE-so to my own self be true.
Thanks for listening to my woe. I am a work in progress and know not where I am going so I’ll golf, ski and play Mah jongg.
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