On that summer night . . .

On that summer night so long ago, Ray and I went to Sommerfest at Orchestra Hall. It was a warm night, but not so warm that we couldn’t enjoy a brat and listen to a jazz band on the plaza while waiting for the concert inside Orchestra Hall to begin.

We were dressed in our semi-casual best, taking in the sights of downtown Minneapolis on Nicollet Mall. People watching was at its best. Brits, a British pub somehow located in Minnesota, had an active outdoor café going on the sidewalk. Bikes, runners, walkers, and all shades and nationalities of folks moved down the Mall as we soaked it all in.

I’m sure I touched Ray from time to time. Maybe we did some hand holding. Maybe his arm was around my waist. We were together on a beautiful summer evening and that’s all that mattered.

Flash forward to 2011. I’m sitting at a table sipping coffee from a coffee shop on Grand Ave in St Paul. It’s a beautiful early summer evening. My date is a nice man, who is only five years older than me, whom I met on match.com. This is our second date, or as my oldest grandson calls it, an experiment.

He asked me about Ray, and then I spiraled down into the dark place where I rarely visit anymore.

Sometimes it’s just too darn hard to be a widow. And alone. And it’s not the ALONE that bothers me; it’s that I’m ALONE without Ray. If I never had met Ray, I doubt being ALONE would distress me so much.

So I was awake all night, reliving his death over and over again until my brain just got tired of it and let me sleep.

The next day was beautiful, a perfect summer day, but so what? I was in misery and could barely function.

Finally, I went over to Joe’s and talked him into having dinner with me. And when we were working together in my kitchen, cutting up veggies and fussing over the grill, I started to feel better.

Thank goodness.

I don’t mind going to dark place once in a while, but I don’t like the awful depression which can accompany those thoughts, so I decided I wasn’t going to let that happen this weekend.

I rarely go out much, mostly to save money, but after I stood up the nice man for coffee on Wednesday night, I decided to have an experiment with him and go to the Bin Wine Bar in downtown St Paul. It’s been open for about two years and I’ve always wanted to go, but Joe is not one to go to restaurants unless it’s Perkins or Denny’s or something like that.

John (the nice man) enjoys red wines like I do, and he agreed to go to the wine bar with me. We had a good time, good wine, and a good light dinner. He doesn’t talk much, I think because he’s being careful, he’s a former junior high math and science teacher after all, so I wonder about the lack of flow of our conversation, maybe he doesn’t want to reveal too much too quickly. Plus, I think he’s seeing other women, which is fine.

I haven’t slept with him and he hasn’t sent me a photo of his wiener. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.
But we haven’t touched or kissed, just an awkward moment of holding hands after our coffee experiment.

But I blab away to him just to fill the silent spaces and then I get tired and a sore throat. I’m so used to Joe talking and talking and all I have to do is be a passive listener, so it’s difficult to be the CEO of conversation.

Ray and I didn’t talk much at all. We were just in the moment. Nice.

I got home at 9:30 pm on Friday night and went right to bed and slept quite well. No dark place visits.

Saturday was busy with grief group in the morning, and then going to my younger grandson’s baseball game in the afternoon. In between, I also cut the grass and did a small bit of gardening.

Joe came over and we grilled ribs. And drank wine. Again, I slept well. My brain was relaxed.

We went from the perfect weekend to temps on Monday of 98 degrees and then 103 degrees on Tuesday. Then we plummeted down into the 60s.

Today is coolish and cloudy. And that was good. I didn’t feel any pressure to go out and be happy and pretend my husband is alive when he isn’t. I didn’t feel so ALONE today.

I went to workout soon after I got up this morning. After breakfast and the Sunday paper, I went tanning in the melanoma tube. Then out to the cemetery to see what Ray was doing.

And I counted my blessings. No, I didn’t meet my husband when we were 12 years old and we weren’t married for 50+ years. But I had him for almost 10 years. 10 great years where we both grew and developed as creative people in ways we didn’t before we met.

Now that he’s gone I try to count my blessings so I’m not so tempted to visit the dark place. I have a nice home that I’ve been able to pay for and maintain. It’s too big for me, but I can keep up with it and for the most part, I don’t mind the house consuming a massive amount of my time.

I don’t have a lot of debt. I own two vehicles free and clear. I’m healthy. I don’t take any prescription drugs. I don’t take naps. I have lots of energy and strength.

I have a weirdo boyfriend, but we’re getting along better. When I get mad at him, I go on match.com and wink at someone. Hence, the nice man experiment, a remnant of that anger.

It’s better than being ALONE and feeling like a fish flopping on land looking for water. If I just flop a little further to the right, I’ll find water again. Maybe.

My grandchildren and son live close by and I can see them almost anytime I want. Of course, now they have busy social lives and are involved in baseball, so there are practices and games, but they’re still within my reach and that’s great.

My older grandson just finished six grade. He received the President’s award for academic achievement. Very cool.

I have a good job, a great job that is very close to my home. Now I contract to the state, and there’s a state government shutdown looming, but the company I work for will have us do work on contracts that they have in other states, so I shouldn’t miss a beat during the shutdown.

I was worried, because I can collect unemployment, but that doesn’t pay beans, and I’d have to use my savings to make up the difference. So, the possibility of working on other contracts and keep getting paid is truly a blessing.

I baked a rhubarb cake this afternoon.

I played my 80s Kenwood stereo system, oh, the sound is so great, and I listened to Duke Ellington, Bonnie Raitt, Blondie, The Temptations, and Horehound this afternoon.

Now the sun is finally coming out. Joe will be here soon and we’ll grill a few brats, eat potato salad, and do a little asparagus stir fry, and enjoy my rhubarb cake.

And I successfully avoided visiting the dark place this weekend.