Yesterday

When I began writing eight and a half years ago, April 11th quickly became one of my favorite days to talk about. It was Ruth’s birthday and for six weeks each year she was a year older than me. I ended up writing several stories about her birthday and our age gap. She played along with my teasing because six weeks really isn’t much. We both knew it, but I still had fun poking at her.

For the past three years, my Florida friends held a golf tournament on April 11th. We called it the MRNA because that’s what she rechristened herself after Brady was born. She was Mom, Ruth, Nana, Altogether…MRNA. It grew each year because more people participated. Elizabeth attended all three years, Michael, Kate and Jackson in year two, and we all gathered last year. We doubled the tourney, starting with twelve and concluding with twenty-four. Eight of the original twelve played all three years.

The concept was the idea of two friends from Nebraska, Dick and Tammy, and last year, as the event grew to a close, I thanked them for getting us going. I spoke to the assembled crowd more last year than I had in any other year. Each year I found it easier to talk about Ruth. Not because I missed her less but because the passage of time helped heal my heart. I asked Eva to stand with me so I could hold her hand as I spoke. She has a way of comforting me without saying a word.

I decided last year would be our last year because it was the first, and might be the only time, all my kids and grandkids played together. Young Jackson James was only four years old, so he didn’t play golf, but he did attend the post tournament meal. He excelled at eating cake. I don’t think anyone did a better job.

This year my kids, their spouses, Eva and Young Jackson James are hanging out in California. Five of them live there. Brady’s at college and I’m in The Villages. I’m truly happy that the eight are together honoring MRNA’s birthday. That’s a good thing.

When I first lost Ruth, people told me things would get better with the passage of time. I wanted to believe them, but I didn’t. Her loss was too sudden, the wound too deep, and I was truly miserable. I was angry with her for not taking better care of herself and sad for myself because I was alone. That’s how my grief played out. No one can know what to expect. Each of us is different. Whenever anyone asked how I was doing, my standard reply was, “Life’s different now.” That part has changed. It’s still different, but like I was told, things have gotten better with the passage of time.

The biggest change began on January 8, 2025. I went to a meeting to learn about a group of single people. It’s the name that intrigued me, Singles New Beginnings. I was single looking for a new beginning, so I gave it a shot. I sent an email to the contact person whose reply told where and when to show up. When I arrived, I couldn’t find the room, and no one could tell me where to go. I brought my phone in with me, which was rare, looked up the contact, and gave the number a call. A woman answered and directed me to the Jefferson room. I walked a hundred feet, turned the doorknob, and met Barbara on the other side. I saw a room full of women and one guy. I made number two.

I was attracted to Barbara the moment I saw her. I thought she was pretty, well dressed and articulate. A complete package. That hadn’t happened in a long time. I sat down and listened to a series of introductions. That’s when I learned I had arrived on the first day that Singles New Beginnings met. The group had been running for almost two years but always as a women’s book study. The times, they were a changin.

January 8th has become a new measuring stick for me. I’ve learned new things about myself, including how to handle my grief. I still carry it, but it’s not as heavy. I had spent two years, three months and twelve days being angry and miserable. Without knowing it, my new friends help me shovel the garbage that comes my way. I help them with theirs too. It’s a win-win.

April 11th will always be a milestone for me. I etched it into my heart the day I began teasing Ruth about being older. Now I’m the older one. As of this post, I’m older by three years, six months, and sixteen days. She’ll never catch up.

You’re probably wondering why I keep track of my days in such a manner. I’m not sure but I may have begun on my mom’s 88th birthday. That’s the day I struck a deal with her. If she outlived her dad, I’d outlive her. She did, so my target is March 3, 2041. Everything else will be a bonus. I don’t want to live that long alone, which is why January 8th is so important. It, and Barbara, are my new beginning.