Life Lessons

Marie

There’s a new person in my life, Marie.  We’d met before, years ago when I was in high school.  Funny how old friends circle around when you can use them the most.  We were never close. We met the first time when I worked as a stock boy at National Foods.  I was just a seventeen-year-old face in the crowd.  That’s beginning to change now, all these decades later.

One of my friends, Dave, is a widower like me.  He lost his wife over fifteen years ago.  When I lost Ruth, he warned that I was going to “get a lot of casseroles.”  That was his experience after he lost Cindy.  Several single women came forward with casseroles hoping to win his heart.  I haven’t received any casseroles, but I did get two batches of potato salad from my next-door neighbor.

I was familiar with the concept because my Grandpa Barner went through the same thing when my grandmother passed in the late fifties.  I’m not sure about casseroles, but he received fifteen different shirts from fifteen different women the Christmas after Grandma passed.  They were hoping to win his heart.  None did.

A couple decades later his son, my Uncle Harry, experienced the same phenomenon when my Aunt Phyllis passed.  Several single women came forward hoping to win his heart.  I wrote it off as a Barner family trait.

Just before I headed south for the winter, my friend Dave spoke to me about Marie.  They’ve had a relationship from time to time but since he’s started seeing Sue, I don’t think they’ve seen as much of each other.

I’ve been editing my about to be published book over the last several months.  During the editing process, I revisited several pieces of advice I’ve offered over the last almost six years.  Many have a similar theme.  “Be a risk taker.” “If you want things to be different, you’ve got to do them differently.”  “Step out of your comfort zone.”  You get the idea.

Rest assured; I don’t think buying a few Marie Callender frozen entrees is a giant step forward, but it’s a commitment to a single brand.

I’ve taken a step out of my comfort zone by registering my profile on a dating site for seniors.  I talked about it with David, Elizabeth and Michael before taking the leap.  They’ve all been supportive.  They want me to be happy, and if meeting someone new makes me happy, they’re all in.  I won’t know until I try.

So far, I’ve received the profiles of over two-hundred and twenty potential matches.  Most are in Florida, but I’ve heard from ladies in Texas, Georgia, and Alabama.  I’m not interested in a long-distance relationship.  I would like someone new to share a meal, maybe play cards or golf, and if we really hit it off, become a traveling companion.  That’s what most singles are looking for.  Companionship.  So far, I haven’t met anyone face to face.  I have exchanged a few messages, but that’s it.

I also signed up for the “Single Baby Boomers Club” in The Villages.  I’m going to an orientation meeting this evening.  The membership requirements are pretty straight forward.  You must be single and born between 1946 and 1964.  The online description says:  “The club gives its large, active membership the opportunity to meet and socialize with other members who enjoy similar interests”.  There are over 1,100 members.

My short-term goal is to meet new people and have fun.   If I meet someone special, that would be great, but I don’t have my eyes on marriage.  My long-term goal is to dump Marie.