Monday, February 10, 2014

Dancing on My Husband's Grave: Part Two - Dating

What does it take to date on your late husband grave?   Will a skeletal hand rise from the grave to lock my ankle and crush all 26 bones?   Will he inhabit this ghostly realm and haunt my bedroom when I make love in our bed?  What if he falls out of love with me, since I've fallen out of love with him?

Does anybody but a widow get how huge a step dating is?  I'm not talking desperation dating, the 'I can't stand to be alone' dating.  Not the 'I'm getting my mojo back with a stiff drink' dating.  I'm talking about 'I'm letting go' dating.  The 'It will be different, and different is O.K.' dating.  Young widows do it.  Older widows do it, less, but they do.  I fall somewhere in the middle, not young not old.  Personally, I psyched myself up for the  'It will be different, even better' dating.

I'd seen my 75 year old neighbor recover her omp-pah-pah after her husband of 38 years died.  She played with her new boyfriend for eight years.  He was by her side as she went into the great beyond.  Who wouldn't like second chances?   Besides, one guy I knew said I was 'an animal' on a bicycle.  Wasn't this a sign?

Omp-pah-pah rising.  The key to my heart is in my hand, and a gentleman may gain it.  Enter project Dating.   Many men responded.  Three men got the keys.    Mr. Wide Horizons,  Mr. Pleasure Maker, and  Mr. Best Friend.  Unfortunately, I need these three lovely men in one dear person.  

God!  They gave me such great gifts.  My heart woke up.  My sex drive came roaring back.  I regained that delicious relevance I feel when a good man's heart beats strongly because I love him, too.  I guess my 'loving muscles' are in pretty good shape.  But right now I need time out.  Maybe when spring comes...  I can go either way, solo or joined, though solo is winning at the moment.  But at least I have a choice, and that's made all the difference.

And my fears? No hand ever reached up from the grave to crush my ankle.  No ghost haunts my bedroom.  No love has been lost.  All that's missing now are chains in my heart holding me back from embracing a wonderful life.

Happy Valentine's Day, all
I would so love to hear your experiences dating.  As much as we learn about who's out there, we learn about ourselves.  Pretty cool.


  1. So many widows and widowers find a second chance at love so if that's what you want, I say go for it. But I really question your premise that we actually have to "fall out of love" with our deceased mates to make that happen with a new person. I think love is so wide, so inclusive---a bottomless well---that the second-time-around love gets to sit along side of your first love. And if the second-time-around guy doesn't understand that a part of your heart will always have a sweet spot for your first love then he isn't the right person to be dating a widow. But that's just the opinion of a woman who can't imagine breaking in a new man in her live. LOL

    Good luck with your goal!

  2. Jean,

    That's a good point you make. I can love many, but be 'in love' with only one man at a time. A special gift we can give to a new partner is a clean slate. Having married a man whose first marriage lasted 18 years, I endured a sense of competition for his affection until I was assured I was indeed #1.

    I would say at this point I've let go of the goal to have everything I want!

  3. Yup, there is a big difference between being in love and loving. And I agree, you can only be in love with one man at a time. You can't be in love with a ghost.

  4. Oh gosh! I don't think I'm gonna go there. Almost 62 with one year widowhood. Never say never but ....

  5. Hi A. W.!

    I guess I was the opposite - at 52, I couldn't imagine NOT having a man to love - I just needed to find a recipient. It did take me more time than I expected to be emotionally ready to actually go looking, five years, in fact. Maybe if it all happened now, at 60, I could swallow being without the 'yang' to my 'yin'.

    Whichever makes sense to us is helpful, you know? It sets a course to pursue, and goodness knows a sense of purpose is its own reward.