Regeneration

Sometimes all that effort pays off.  My leaking roof has been replaced and my Insurance Company is paying for it.  Which they SHOULD, since its degradation was weather related.  Well, this 'should' turned into 'could' turned into 'would' from the Insurance Co., after a lot of effort.   To celebrate my handsome new roof,  I just climbed up  and drank a beer up there in its honor.  Lovely view.

I sometimes get tired maintaining my own home, until I realize how many people would give their eye teeth for my situation.  So no complaints here.  Even the memory of having a man pitch in, doing the 'guy stuff', has faded.  This woman does the 'guy stuff' pretty well.  However, you can be sure that the man who offers to pitch in will win my heart.


Finally, after nearly seven years of widowhood, I'm beginning to sort twentyfive years of flotsam in my garage.  I'm figuring out the destination of a few parts.  The garden cart waiting for new wheels has them now.  Just took a few hours.  This garage may even be useful soon, instead of something I bolt through on my way into the house.  If I'm really ambitious I'll put hooks in to hang shovels and rakes and pruning tools.  No promises.

The anniversary of his death is next month.  Maybe it's spring fever, or maybe it's the new roof, but I feel the tidal pull of regeneration.  I'm very happy.

Blueprint

Everybody receives the 'givens' of life, the air, sunlight, gravity, hunger, sleepiness, wakefulness to name a few.  I believe we also receive a blueprint from God that is uniquely ours.   Circumstances hopefully draw its  purpose and beauty into existence.

Well, I haven't had the best circumstances.  Much of my life I've said to my Designer "I'd rather have somebody else's blueprint".    It seems God forgot to include a porch and front door on my blueprint, and I see great porches and front doors on other peoples'.  I do know He included a few sub cellars and a widow's walk in my blueprint.

But where's the porch?  And the front door?  I've discovered a back door.  That's how people gain access to me, kind of hanging around long enough that I grow comfortable and invite them into my 'work in progress' home.  I rarely invite an interesting new person in directly.  I see others do it. Could be I have boarded up my front door and forgotten how to use it?

I'm reminded of the results of a personality test I first took twenty four years ago, the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. This test reveals four dimensions of one's personality, the first dimension being how we interact with the world and where we direct our energy.  We either have a natural preference for the outer world as extroverts, or for the inner world as introverts.   Extroverts are approachable and meet new people with ease.   Extroverts have wonderful front doors.  Introverts avoid being the center of attention and find chit chat draining, if not pointless.   Not surprising that we can't locate our front door.

When I first took the test at age 34, I assumed my extreme introversion was a result of a difficult childhood.  I've since learned that only my insecurity and shyness were.  92% introversion remains.  Must be in the blueprint for me.   Time I started examining it.

Under Whose Wings?

Will a desirable man take me under his wing?  I wouldn't mind a little shelter from the storm, a little back up, a little relief when I'm on overload.  Though I have enough faith in God's love to meet my fear,  it isn't enough to ease real time overload and erase my loneliness as a woman.  I need people.  I need a central love relationship.  I'm trying to get along without it, and it's darn hard.

The help I need now is light years away from the type I needed in widowhood's  first years.  Remember Maslow's hierarchy of needs?   I've been addressing these from day one.  Had to.  Physiological needs - settled.  Safety needs - settled.  Love/belonging needs - in process.  Esteem needs - in process.   Self-actualization needs - in process.  At best my last three needs are met sporadically.  How do I make do with the sporadic connections of single life?   I want the consistency and sex and the give and take of a primary relationship!   So much for shelter by a desirable man.

Instead, I find my own wings are healed enough to offer shelter.  I invited neighbors over last week for my first dinner party.  My fear of being a capable enough hostess was allayed with enough preparation to actually enjoy the company.  Cleaning the house was number one.  A good enough meal was number two.  Enough wine was number three.  Can I grow into being a decent hostess?  I hope so!  I hope that hospitality may be a way of addressing my need for love and belonging. Goodness knows dating isn't.  Maybe someday...  In the meantime, family fits the bill for love and belonging, without the sex.  Neighbors fit the bill as well as they can.  They are less transient than most group activities I'd be a part of.  I really don't want transience.  The pain from the transience of my husband's life was more than enough for a while.

Life is transient.  Shelter, anyone?