:: I thought a great place to meet girls would be night school, you know,
where they teach English as a second language. You know, because these
girls would be from foreign lands and, you know, maybe still a little
disoriented from the journey and I would look attractive because I
speak English very goodly. But in the end it did not work out as I had
hoped, I mean, basically I was told to take a hike in fourteen
languages.::
- Vinnie in Must Love Dogs
A few days ago, one of my dearest friends lost her husband. Over the last year and a half, she and her sweetheart spent as much time in the ER and ICU as they did at home. At the juncture of each emergency, she posted an update and asked for our prayers. We offered white light, love, comfort, care, and finally, our fondest memories of her baby. We supported her struggle to remain grounded during these episodes, cheered her combative demands for information from his attending physicians, and laughed out loud while reading her lovely writings on the miracle of their 20 years together.
Another girlfriend married for just as long, was and remains, faced with managing the repercussions of her husbands' affair. Trust took many variant shapes in the years following this breech. That they have remained together is in part a testament to the strength of their friendship. Each partner has taken drastic steps towards recommiting. Together, they approach each day as an invitation to explore the other. Not an easy road, but the one they have found works best for them.
As different and difficult as the two struggles are for my lovely friends, I find myself feeling a bit envious. I am one of thousands of wonderful, talented and beautiful single Broads Abroad, with no one to greet at the end of the day. The average Broad Abroad, regardless of country of origin, is single, 47 y.o. and wears a size 12 dress! Holy Smack! I am a statistic!
Without the preoccupations of family life, our statistical situations may be a gold mine for employers and the travel industry. This lack of family accounts for our 24-7 availability to focus on work, but really, I would rather be a gold digger than a goldmine! Who wants to travel alone, dine alone, and sleep alone? "Not I," said the Big Bad Broad Abroad!
There is no Boyfriend For Life to smoother with kisses, to read the Sunday paper with, and linger under unwashed sheets. There is a Wii on the coffee table, but no We when chopping vegetables, dancing like Gene Kelly, or misbehaving like a globe trotting American. I face, as all the other single bad ass Broads Abroad, the hard times alone, in sickness and in health.
Today, and maybe even tomorrow, I am sad for my girlfriends, and I am sad for myself. There is something fundamentally wrong about coming home at the end of the day with no one to ask how the day went. Perhaps I expect too many of the gaps that take a lifetime to fill to already be flushed out. As a single working woman living in Mexico, with few friends nearby, I sometimes feel my life is comparable to that of a traveling salesman. Instead of drifting from hotel room to hotel room, I find myself drifting between the rooms of my modest home. What am I hoping to find? Certainly not a hoard of cats!
My friends' hearts broke wide open 20 years ago. They allowed love to walk in and they never let go. I've been married. It wasn't easy. I suspect that as we age, we are indeed less flexible in all ways, and yet, I desire companionship. I don't want the living things I miss the most to be my dead animals, my parents, or my friends. I want the person I miss the most to be my best friend, and the dirty toilets, wrinkled sheets, and stepped upon feet we create together.
Wine 'em & Dine 'em,
The Broad
Another girlfriend married for just as long, was and remains, faced with managing the repercussions of her husbands' affair. Trust took many variant shapes in the years following this breech. That they have remained together is in part a testament to the strength of their friendship. Each partner has taken drastic steps towards recommiting. Together, they approach each day as an invitation to explore the other. Not an easy road, but the one they have found works best for them.
As different and difficult as the two struggles are for my lovely friends, I find myself feeling a bit envious. I am one of thousands of wonderful, talented and beautiful single Broads Abroad, with no one to greet at the end of the day. The average Broad Abroad, regardless of country of origin, is single, 47 y.o. and wears a size 12 dress! Holy Smack! I am a statistic!
Without the preoccupations of family life, our statistical situations may be a gold mine for employers and the travel industry. This lack of family accounts for our 24-7 availability to focus on work, but really, I would rather be a gold digger than a goldmine! Who wants to travel alone, dine alone, and sleep alone? "Not I," said the Big Bad Broad Abroad!
There is no Boyfriend For Life to smoother with kisses, to read the Sunday paper with, and linger under unwashed sheets. There is a Wii on the coffee table, but no We when chopping vegetables, dancing like Gene Kelly, or misbehaving like a globe trotting American. I face, as all the other single bad ass Broads Abroad, the hard times alone, in sickness and in health.
Today, and maybe even tomorrow, I am sad for my girlfriends, and I am sad for myself. There is something fundamentally wrong about coming home at the end of the day with no one to ask how the day went. Perhaps I expect too many of the gaps that take a lifetime to fill to already be flushed out. As a single working woman living in Mexico, with few friends nearby, I sometimes feel my life is comparable to that of a traveling salesman. Instead of drifting from hotel room to hotel room, I find myself drifting between the rooms of my modest home. What am I hoping to find? Certainly not a hoard of cats!
My friends' hearts broke wide open 20 years ago. They allowed love to walk in and they never let go. I've been married. It wasn't easy. I suspect that as we age, we are indeed less flexible in all ways, and yet, I desire companionship. I don't want the living things I miss the most to be my dead animals, my parents, or my friends. I want the person I miss the most to be my best friend, and the dirty toilets, wrinkled sheets, and stepped upon feet we create together.
Wine 'em & Dine 'em,
The Broad
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3 comments:
You said it so eloquently! Even though we are many years apart, I too, at 70 don't want to only have the cat to cuddle with but a living breathing man who thinks sex at 70 is just great and having coffee in bed at 10 AM is magnificent along with all the other fun things two people can bring to each other.......
Love your blog. I am retired and just want to play my banjo.
So very glad to hear you are enjoying NFAB. Play on Frosti! We have tons of musicians here in Yucatan!
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