So who could have guessed that at 57 1/2, Kevin, the wild bronco I had ridden for nearly 35 years (twice thrown), would finally leave me in his dust…for good. He was a wild and frequently a hurtful ride, but boy it was worth it. Eventually, after many bruises (figurative, not literal) he became a great steed, capable of taking me places I did not know I wanted to go. But, his life, his luck brought us to a new place together --- Cancer --- and then 9 short, agonizing and dreadful months later…puff --- You’re a Widow! Wow, this sucks. And now nearly 2 1/2 years later, as I have slowly come out of the blessed grief coma, I see the real “Kevin-less World" and learn what "Wow, this SUCKS" really means.
But this blog is not about Kevin or our wild ride, although our fractured love story would have made for a great blog in and of itself back in the day. No, this blog is about (drum roll please) ... DATING AT 60! OMG if it wasn’t so funny it would be as tragic as Kevin’s death. But honey, let me tell you. It is the only thing that has given me some good laughs since he died.
Dating at 60 – what are you thinking girl. In your 20s matches were easy – he’s male, she’s female - Puff, it’s a match. - didn't work?...NEXT! When did it get so difficult, so complicated? When did you have to fill out a 50 question questionnaire that detailed all your strange and secret phobias and compulsions like:
Where on the bathroom counter do you prefer your soap – left of the sink? - right of the sink - or - what is soap for? Or my favorite part of the questionnaire -- What body type do you like? They give you several options: Slender, Athletic and Toned, Average (whose average are you talking about here? - those in danger of diabetes, stroke and heart attack?), Stocky and A few Extra Pounds!!. So, I really see it as a choice between -- Athletic and Toned or Too big to put your arms around…..Hmmmm let me think, which do I prefer? I eat nothing but celery sticks for 5 days so I can fit into my slinky jeans but he can carry around 85 lbs of lard on his mid-section and write how he wants a sexy and sensual woman, who takes good care of herself (read: diets and exercises) and who will love him for himself! All of himself! You’ve got to be kidding me. Do any women check off they want “A few extra pounds” really? I am afraid there is a good reason these men are single again. I am afraid, very, very afraid!
There are so many stories to be told - the high talking guy, the serial dater guy, the favoriting guy, the sports guy, the mother loving guy, the sensitive guy, the tanned and tightened guy, the ready to get married - my laundry basket is full and refrigerator empty - guy, the controller guys (yes, plural!), the pitying guy, the Aidan guy, the piano guy and many, many more. Gosh it's only been 4 months since I started dating and already I have enough material to fill a blog for an entire year.
So, as the mood strikes me I will write about my experiences and that of my 2 divorced girlfriends who have also entered this new and disturbing world of dating at the uncomfortable age of 60. But, determined to prove to myself that there is life after becoming a widow, I will forge on, never discouraged by the men who look like serial killers, the 70 year olds seeking 35 year old (keep dreaming, unless you are Daddy Warbucks), the multitudes who now say they just want to cuddle (when did they start wanting to cuddle?) and those with an unhealthy fascination with tantric yoga. I swear I will survive, and laugh to tell about it.
See you next time.
But this blog is not about Kevin or our wild ride, although our fractured love story would have made for a great blog in and of itself back in the day. No, this blog is about (drum roll please) ... DATING AT 60! OMG if it wasn’t so funny it would be as tragic as Kevin’s death. But honey, let me tell you. It is the only thing that has given me some good laughs since he died.
Dating at 60 – what are you thinking girl. In your 20s matches were easy – he’s male, she’s female - Puff, it’s a match. - didn't work?...NEXT! When did it get so difficult, so complicated? When did you have to fill out a 50 question questionnaire that detailed all your strange and secret phobias and compulsions like:
Where on the bathroom counter do you prefer your soap – left of the sink? - right of the sink - or - what is soap for? Or my favorite part of the questionnaire -- What body type do you like? They give you several options: Slender, Athletic and Toned, Average (whose average are you talking about here? - those in danger of diabetes, stroke and heart attack?), Stocky and A few Extra Pounds!!. So, I really see it as a choice between -- Athletic and Toned or Too big to put your arms around…..Hmmmm let me think, which do I prefer? I eat nothing but celery sticks for 5 days so I can fit into my slinky jeans but he can carry around 85 lbs of lard on his mid-section and write how he wants a sexy and sensual woman, who takes good care of herself (read: diets and exercises) and who will love him for himself! All of himself! You’ve got to be kidding me. Do any women check off they want “A few extra pounds” really? I am afraid there is a good reason these men are single again. I am afraid, very, very afraid!
There are so many stories to be told - the high talking guy, the serial dater guy, the favoriting guy, the sports guy, the mother loving guy, the sensitive guy, the tanned and tightened guy, the ready to get married - my laundry basket is full and refrigerator empty - guy, the controller guys (yes, plural!), the pitying guy, the Aidan guy, the piano guy and many, many more. Gosh it's only been 4 months since I started dating and already I have enough material to fill a blog for an entire year.
So, as the mood strikes me I will write about my experiences and that of my 2 divorced girlfriends who have also entered this new and disturbing world of dating at the uncomfortable age of 60. But, determined to prove to myself that there is life after becoming a widow, I will forge on, never discouraged by the men who look like serial killers, the 70 year olds seeking 35 year old (keep dreaming, unless you are Daddy Warbucks), the multitudes who now say they just want to cuddle (when did they start wanting to cuddle?) and those with an unhealthy fascination with tantric yoga. I swear I will survive, and laugh to tell about it.
See you next time.
4 comments:
Yikes - it looks a little scary and a lot funny. I have to ask: what is an Aidan guy? Love your writing style - keep blogging!
Thanks...sayit. Welcome aboard -- strap on your seatbelt as I do believe this will be a very, very bumpy ride.
An Aidan guy refers to Sex and the City. There was Mr. Big - Carrie's difficult, rich, self-absorbed lover and Aidan the artistic, complacent, supportive, sweet guy that many say was just too good for Carrie. She destroyed him, not once but twice. More to come on the Aidan guy...
Forget "dating", it's soooo 2008. It is all about an alliance or better yet, a merger. I'm thinking money, flesh, lots of flesh in some unfortunate cases, botox, psych visits, alcohol, antidepressents, desperate searches for adult coffee shop assignations in Central Jersey: is that a book? Oh, the imagry is so colorful and I sit on the edge of my seat awaiting the 2nd installment and those beyond, far beyond.
Like you, I went the internet dating route, for about two years before Steve and I found each other. He was the love of my life and I don't think there will ever be another relationship so precious to me or that I will even look for one. Keep up the good work, I love reading about your experiences.
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