Great…
Dik
I, myself, am twice divorced - I have often wondered how it’s been such a struggle for me (and some of my close friends, as well), while others have been far more “successful” (I don’t like that word choice, but I couldn’t think of a better one).
I really don’t have an answer for the original question of “Why can’t I meet someone” - but I will say that my experience getting back into the dating world has been exhausting. Most people meet nowadays on mobile apps (Such as Bumble or Hinge, for example), where the name of the game is to “match” with someone and start a conversation. And then two days later, 9 out of 10 times, the conversation drops off because gauging compatibility via text is very tiresome - inevitably, you end up “ghosting” each other.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met several interesting ladies and had some good dates. But I find myself frequently bouncing in and out of the “dating scene” because it’s exhausting 
Lots of good an interesting points. My matrimonial history is not full of such interesting details:
My wife bought me. Period. That was back in 1966. Still married.
Being such a hopeless nerd, I never thought much about dating - or family. Or any such.
Then I was commissioning a blast furnace. A job that took months. There was always something more to do before I could have lunch. So there were just me, and that young lady in the canteen. We started to have our lunches together. After a week, she asked me what my name was? I told her.
“I bought you” she said"*
I didn’t know what to say and finally came up with “Are you satisfied with what you got?” I did not expect much reaction to that.
“Need to test drive before I know” she said.
And that’s it. No chocolates, no flowers. Just having lunch at the office canteen. Someone mentioned serendipity…
*She worked in the purchasing department and had signed the paper saying that I was welcome to do the commissioning. I had done a similar job the year before, without blowing things up or setting anything afire. That was all you needed to be a guru back in the older times.
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That’s so wonderful…
Dik
My wife was the TA for a senior engineering design course I was taking. The professor (later MY research advisor) was surprised to find out I was dating her - “why would a classy gal like that date someone like YOU?” I could only shrug and smile. 30+ years and four kids later, I still shrug and smile.
My wife’s friends wondered the same thing… She was bright, vibrant, talkative, creative, had a Masters in Interior Design…
Dik
Well, I met someone about 3 years ago. Dik and IRstuff already know some of this. We met through mutual friends.
He was ill, when we met, but still very vibrant, engaging, and very interested in so many things in life. He had a marvelous sense of humor and I never knew when he would bring it out or what he would say. He was very quick witted. He imitated old cartoon characters to great effect and was do durned cute doing so. He was an excellent storyteller and saw the humorous side of life. He was very intelligent and really should have been a litigator. He would have had the courtroom in stitches.
A year and a half later, I rushed him to the ER because he couldn’t breathe. For the rest of his life, he was on O2 full time. He had many ups and downs but we weathered them together. I took him to the ER last year but I didn’t understand exactly what was happening. I do now but hindsight, ya’ know… Even though he was more ill and on O2, he did as much as he possibly could, which I reflect upon with amazement. We made a lot of memories in a short time.
This year I had to rush him to the ER three times. His cardio rehab told him once to go, which he did. He was in the ICU four times in the first quarter. By the first of March, they put him on hospice and wished him well, shook his hand, gave him hugs, said how glad they were to meet him, etc. He treated them with kindness and respect, which they appreciated.
He passed away April 12th, which has been a big loss for me and so many others. It was mostly just the two of us until April 12th. I cut his hair for the last time. We shared meals for the last time. We talked for the last time. We worked together seamlessly until his last breath. That last 12 hours was extremely rough, as his idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis was advancing quickly. I was in uncharted waters. Hospice was not much help that night. The most helpful thing they did was to tell me if I needed to take him to the ER, they would work out the financial details later. It was my job to take care of him.
In hindsight, I can see how things were going for Joe and what those little and large episodes were, i.e., exacerbations wherein the IPF advances. From the medical literature, he was right on schedule.
I learned a lot from Joe including how to die well. I don’t know that I can apply any of what I learned but hopefully I will, when the time comes.
I also learned that most people never would have taken Joe to the ER that first time. They would have seen how ill he was and walked away letting him die. Most people, even after 50 years of marriage, don’t get much, if any, support, once they’re on hospice. Most people are ignored and neglected in their daily needs for human touch, companionship, love, food, assistance, etc. Hospice would know.
So I look at everything and cannot help but conclude that our values have changed. I can only speak for myself but I would not have missed being there for Joe. He was a sweetheart.
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Wow. He was so lucky to have someone like you, Pamela.
My wife’s sister lost her husband recently as well (my wife has been back and forth to visit and help her), in his case it was stage 4 cancer, which progressed very rapidly, there was not much they could do for him other than administer morphine. I think she and we are all still in a bit of shock right now.
He was so very lucky to have you! Sorry for your loss.
It seems unfair your and Joe’s time was cut so short, but it also seems like you both were blessed by the time you did have together.
If my arms were long enough, I’d hug you. You are a good person, Pamela.
Ugh. I know some people who got what they gave in life, i.e. they drove all their loved ones away and were left lonely in the end. But yes, there are also those too selfish to visit sick or grieving “loved” ones. Or drive past those in trouble…like a video I saw of the Lahaina fire the other day, people trying to escape the fire and driving past a body on the pavement without even stopping to check for life. Dunno, in that situation, panic from the fire’s intensity…would I have? I’d like to think so…
btrueblood, I am sorry about your BIL’s cancer and death. Please pass on my condolences to your wife and SIL.
It is a bit of a shock to lose someone. I finally accepted Joe’s death about a month ago. I still grieve but it’s not quite as much. I get caught by things though, which your SIL will experience, too. You think you’re OK until you face something that you’ve done together and you’re suddenly a puddle of tears. I will always miss him and it’s quite an adjustment to not have someone to talk to every day and do life with. Two friends lost their spouses before Joe died. They’re having a hard time adjusting to the new circumstances, too.
I often feel like a weak sister. When Joe was in the ICU that first time, I wondered about what I would do, when he was released. I knew the right thing was to stick by him until he was released. So, I did.
I continued to stick by him, after his discharge, because it was the right thing to do. He needed someone there to help him with the new set of challenges in life. He was still alive and wanted to live. He was still Joe. If I had left, he would have been very hurt and very isolated. I just couldn’t do that to him. And, I loved him. You don’t walk away from those you love because they’re ill.
He told me often that I had made a huge difference in his life and for the better. He was very surprised that I had not been “snapped up” long ago. He made just as big an improvement in my life, too. No one has made me laugh as much as he did. He was someone I could care about and do for. He experienced Southern and Cajun cooking. And, he liked my collard greens! What is unlovable about a man who likes my collard greens???
Hospice told Joe often he was very fortunate to have such a high level of care. I didn’t think much about that assuming most people did for their loved ones as I was. I also had my hands full taking care of him and was focused on him. Only after he was gone did I learn most people don’t do for their loved ones. My family helped us, too. I was very glad he had that level of support. I wanted him to enjoy the days he had left.
I don’t know if Joe was lucky to have me but I was absolutely lucky to have him. We had some wonderful conversations, we shared good meals, and we laughed a lot.
SuperSalad, I will take that hug long distance. And thank you for telling me I am a good person. That’s been another struggle for me this year. A cousin, who caused me a great deal of trouble during childhood, still cannot tell me that I am a good person. He simply refuses. It hurt but it let me know he is still a very troubled soul. He is still cruel and narcissistic.
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Thank you for sharing that experience. That took a lot of courage. Maybe you see it already, but few people have the nerve and fewer still can put it to such eloquent use when they need it.
Strange thought… Your friend Joe seems to have scored a perfect 20 on the Heinlein scale. If you don’t get the reference or you have to google it there’s a chance this comment will come across sounding crass at first. But really, there are very few things that humans really can do that are essentially and uniquely human. So few, that the list seems dishearteningly short. Joe’s spirit and dignity to the end tells me that he probably lived a full life. One that deserved every moment of your affection.
I hope I will measure up when the time comes - and I know it will come.
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Might be a bit obscure. But the passage I think you are referring to is
Blockquote"Specialization is for insects," the science fiction author Robert A. Heinlein famously wrote. “A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly.”
I probably score about 18, lacking direct experience in #2, 4 and 18. But it’s 21, not 20…unless my counting skills are lacking.
I count 21 items. I guess you can let one slide and be a perfect 20, eh?
Oh dear, my compliment has been undermined by sloppy counting on my part.
I meant to say your friend scored perfectly, by which I mean a fulfilling life. I shouldn’t have chosen a roundabout way to say it.
SparWeb, I understand your intent. Joe did live a full life. As we both got older, we hid more in our own lives because we both decided dating wasn’t worth it. We couldn’t meet anyone that was serious. We were both thrilled that we had met an opposite number that was not a fly-by-night sort.
We both realized how much we had missed by being alone. Joe added a lot to my life even though he wasn’t nearly as healthy or active as me. He was just that kind of man, which I admired.
I think most engineers would have loved his humor and story telling. He was hilarious.
Thank you all for your kindness. It means a lot to me.
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