THAT Guy... THE Guy (?)... I guess not

How many times can I do this? Dating. I don't understand WHY it has to be so hard at this age!!! I have been "dating" on and off since I ended my relationship with Anthony almost a year ago. In that year I have met a handful of guys, I have talked to a lot more, but it never goes anywhere and the conversation eventually just tapers off. I went out with three of them a few times each. Two disappeared (ghosted) without a trace (I found out later that one of them does this habitually to women, it is just beyond my comprehension how you could so easily treat someone like that) and one said he "couldn't give me the time and attention I deserve", I had a couple of "meet and greets" there was just no connection... but the last one... all I can say is WOW... I felt like I had finally met THAT guy... maybe even THE guy...

He messaged me on a dating site on July 4th. I took one look at his smile and knew I had to reply... then I read his profile and I DEFINITELY had to reply. Self employed, flips houses, dad... He said he wanted to know more, I said "you had me at flips houses". We messaged back and forth all day and later that night he gave me his phone number. I rarely give mine out that quickly, but this time I did. He asked if he could call me and we proceeded to talk for over two hours, I think it was 1 am by the time we hung up. That 2 hours went by quickly. There was never a lapse in our conversation or an uncomfortable silence. Before we hung up he asked me if I would like to meet, I said yes and we planned on meeting the next day. I went to bed with a smile on my face that night. This felt different then other men I have talked to. In the course of those two hours we talked about our families (he has 4 kids too and their ages are not a lot different than mine) our pets (he has a dog named Ivy too) our careers, which go hand in hand and past relationships. We definitely have a lot in common.

We met in Lake Geneva (he lives in IL, 2 hours from me) for a late dinner the next day. Again, the conversation flowed as though we had known each other for much longer than a day. After dinner we went to the lake, he had brought chairs with him so we sat in those and talked some more. At the end of the night he gave me an "air hug" because we were both dealing with kids that had been exposed to Covid (both tested negative, but we didn't know that at that time) and we said good night.

The next two weeks consisted of us talking every day for hours. We rarely texted and it was SO NICE to be able to get to know someone this way. He was attentive and often called me just to see what I was doing. At some point during the second week I asked him when I was going to see him again, his response "not soon enough". We met in Lake Geneva again and hung out in a small bar all night. I watched him play pool and we talked all night. It was not the most romantic second date, but it was relaxing and fun. He walked me to my car and when he kissed me good night I have to admit that the thought ran through my head that if that was my last first kiss I was ok with that. He smiled at me and said "you're going to be thinking about that kiss all the way home". He wasn't wrong... As he walked away he turned back to look at me over his shoulder and smiled. I drove home telling myself not to fall for him... but even as I talked to myself I knew that it was too late, I was already there.

The next day I texted him and said I was still thinking about that kiss... no response. I called him that afternoon, he didn't answer. That all too familiar feeling of being ghosted was creeping in and I was pushing it away as hard as I could (that is what happens when guys decide that it is easier to just disappear then to TELL you they aren't interested. It makes it SO hard to trust the next guy) he finally texted me and said that he couldn't stop thinking about how I had been on the dating site we met on, talking to other guys WHILE we were on our date! Wait... WHAT?!? No. I wasn't. I finally met a guy that seemed to check ALL of the boxes and he thought I was talking to other men. Not only was I NOT talking to anyone else (I did answer one text that night and that is what he saw) I had told everyone that I was talking to that I had met someone and I wanted to see where that was going. I hid my profile so I would stop getting messages. I even cancelled a date I had set up earlier in the week because I didn't feel right about meeting anyone else. I tried to call him, he wouldn't answer. I texted him, he responded but it was clear that he had made up his mind. In two short weeks I felt more potential for something real than I have ever felt with anyone since Brian died. I've felt potential before, but this was different, VERY different. 

It has been almost 2 weeks since I have heard from him. I have sent him a couple of texts trying to open that communication up again, but he has not responded. Even though this is over, I deleted my dating profile. I just do not want to meet anyone else. I met someone that I really wanted to get to know, a guy that when I told my daughter a little about him said "Mom! He is YOU in male form" LOL. This one stings, I saw something different and a lot of what I have been looking for in a man. We had a connection, I KNOW it was not one sided...There has not been a day in the last two weeks that I have not thought about him. Every day I hope that my phone rings with the ringtone I have just for him... but it doesn't. Today was particularly hard though. This morning that image of him looking over his shoulder at me as he walked away popped into my head. It brought tears to my eyes, and for the rest of the day I was on the verge of tears. I finally went to a park by a lake to watch the sunset and let myself cry. Tears for the hurt this has caused. Tears for the "alone" feeling I have. Tears for realization that I may NEVER find THAT guy. Tears simply because I REALLY like this one... My friends tell me that it is his loss, but I feel like we are both losing out on something that could be amazing and it makes me sad.

As I left the park tonight there was an elderly couple sitting in lawn chairs watching the sunset. I thought how lucky they are to have each other. I want that. After all I have been through I DESERVE that. Brian wanted that for me. I want something just like this was starting to be...

😢😢😢😢

 

 

7 years... and another first...

It is a hard time of year... the "countdown" to the 7th anniversary of Brian's death has begun. My body knew it before I did. I'm tired, sad, and just not myself. As stupid as it is to say, I wish Brian had NOT died over Labor Day weekend. Not that there is a good time, and it goes without saying that I wish he hadn't died AT ALL... but he did. The beginning of school is also around Labor Day. Each school year brings excitement for what is to come and sadness for what was, all at once. It is not an easy balance. This year it brought something new, something that I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around. Something I didn't want to happen. Something I wasn't ready for. Something that has me crying non-stop... Hannah, my first born, my high school graduate, my college Freshman has moved out. I feel more broken now than I have in a long time...

I should be happy and proud that I have raised a daughter that is independent, mature, and is working hard for what she wants. I AM happy and proud, but, I am also devastated that she is gone. I literally can't stop crying. I've watched on Facebook as her friends parents are dropping their kids off at colleges hours away and I have NO idea how they are doing it. Hannah is going to school in Madison, and her apartment is no more than 20 minutes away. Still, not having her HERE is incredibly painful. More so than I would have imagined. My heart hurts in a way that I didn't expect.

Hannah was born on Feb 5, 2000. She was born on my grandpa's birthday and named after my grandma. She was my third pregnancy and first born. I had her name picked out long before she was a true thought, and I bought her nursery bedding years before she was born. For as long as I can remember I wanted nothing more than to be a wife and a mother, so Hannah was my dream come true. After she was born I would hold her for hours...
         

I never wanted to put her down, and this is a lot like that. I wasn't (am not) ready to let her go, but, this is what she wants. Hannah is mature beyond her years and has been for a long time. Losing your dad at the age of 11, after watching him die from cancer will do that to a kid. I'm IMMENSELY proud of who she is and I know that because of who she is she will be able to accomplish whatever she sets her mind to. She is like her dad that way. I always knew that Hannah would be my child to spread her wings and fly, not because she is the oldest, but because of her drive and determination. Again, she gets that from her dad.


This morning as I was texting with my best friend Jane and telling her how broken I feel she said this: "Things are changing and they are going to keep changing because that's how life is. It doesn't have to be a bad thing though. Kids grow up and have to go out on their own. I know your heart is breaking, but it is what Hannah wants. She is happy to be moving out. So... you just have to support her and try to be ok with this. And you will be in time. You just have to get used to her being gone. She's not gone forever like Brian. Hannah is still here. She's just minutes away from you. She's not in another state. You gave her the wings to fly... now you have to let her use them. It will be ok. It won't be the same, but it will be ok." True words from one widowed mother to another. I know she is right, but I can't help but wonder how this would feel if Brian were alive and well. I know it would still be hard, but I suspect it wouldn't feel like as big of a loss.

Fly my little dragonfly, go far in this big beautiful world. Just know that home is where your heart is, and YOU are my heart. You have been my constant companion on my winding path of widowhood and I made it to the sunny place in part because of you. I love you Hannah Kathryn.

Cancer... Me??

November is Pancreatic Cancer Awareness month.
It is also Lung Cancer Awareness month.
It is ALSO the time of year that I get my annual mammogram.

Though the recommendation is to have a mammogram once every two years, my Doctor has them done yearly for me. Not because there is anything that is being "watched" but because she is sensitive to the fact that my husband died from Pancreatic Cancer. So, Monday I had my annual screening... and Tuesday I got a phone call saying that the radiologist wanted additional views, so an appointment was set for today (Friday). The morning didn't go great. My van is in having the rear brakes replaced, I couldn't find a ride so I had to drive my convertible. Mind you it is NOVEMBER in WISCONSIN and though the weather is unseasonably mild, it was still only in the 40's. Which means the top on my convertible, is cold... and hard... and wouldn't go up. So, I wore a winter coat, gloves and a hat and was thankful there was no wind or rain and drove to my follow up appointment... in my convertible (her name is Tink, in case you're wondering).

I get there, change into the beautiful pink kimono thing they have you wear and wait for my screening. Once in the room, the technician tells me that if needed I will have an ultrasound following the mammogram. Ok... but I'm not concerned and I'm not going to need that...

When we are done, she says that she is going to show the images to the radiologist, but she thinks he will want an ultrasound. Wait... WHAT?!? He did in fact want an ultrasound, so I'm told to get my things out of the locker they were in because I will not be coming back to this area. I do that, sit down in the waiting room, and text my best friend Jane "Talk me off of my ledge. This might not be nothing" that is the point that it hit me. Cancer. The possibility of breast cancer, the possibility of ME having breast cancer. Tears started to trickle down my cheek. Then as that thought sunk in the tears became actual crying... the technician saw me crying, sat down and asked me what was wrong. All I could get out was "my husband died of cancer" at which point the crying became uncontrollable sobs. My kids. My four beautiful kids who have already been through SO much. NO! This HAS|to be all right... for them. I'm an only parent. I'm crazy busy because I do it all alone. HOW will I be able to do this alone? Brian had me... I have... I have friends, I have family, I even have a boyfriend who loves me, but none of those people live with me. I can honestly say that in that moment I felt very, VERY alone.

I can not put into words the paralyzing fear. Because of my experience, the thought of having cancer is 1000 times worse. The anxiety, sadness, confusion and fear all rolled into a huge lump in my throat and uncontrollable sobs. I was immediately escorted into a nurses office. Her name was Lara, and she was amazing. When they were ready for my ultrasound she walked with me down there, and she stayed outside the door until it was done. The conclusion? Dense tissue that was easier to see because of my recent weight loss. Nothing suspicious. I don't have cancer. But that fear is still hanging on. I know I'm fine, but that FEELING has left me drained. I've ridden this roller coaster before and I don't EVER want to do it again. I went into that room sobbing and came out telling them how I had frozen my butt off driving Tink there and by the time I left I was laughing. Lara walked me out and hugged me goodbye. I'm still reeling, my head hurts, but I'm ok. Thankfully, I'm ok. Now, I just need to get my aforementioned boyfriend to quit smoking so that I never have to recognize November for lung cancer awareness month... oh, and so I can stay OFF of the cancer roller coaster.

This was definitely a sharp turn on my winding path of widowhood. One that I hope never to repeat!