The most wonderful thing has happened. Mom is dating again.
She's been widowed for more than three years, and while she's managed to keep extremely busy all this while, and has grown even more confident and beautiful (can you tell I like her?), she's also spent much of the last few years alone.
It isn't that I feel she needs a man in her life to be complete. Please do not reply with hate mail that women can get along perfectly well without a guy (especially a creep). No, she didn't join an Internet dating thing so that she could settle down really quickly and find somebody whose socks needed washing, who couldn't cook properly for himself, or who had just lost his wife.
She joined for the best of reasons: to live. She is a very healthy, happy woman with lively blue eyes and a great personality. She has tons of interests and tons of hobbies, and she has amassed a tremendous number of skills over the years. But she has been, over the past few months, spending her days reading, resting, having her morning coffee, and pretty much just doing ordinary stuff all by herself. She hasn't been unhappy, she's just been sort of existing.
Remember, a few blog entries ago, when I talked about how much I loved change? I realized that much of the reason I read is that I want to experience something new. Sometimes the same old stuff seems... well... the same. The same can be happy, sort of, but it can also get pretty dull.
Mom just came to visit, and for the first time in years, I have seen her truly excited. She is flirting online with men, exchanging "winks" back and forth, reading through listings, going on coffee dates. Just today she left for home, her cheeks all flushed from excitement and nervousness because her favorite e-mail pal had sent his phone number and asked her to call him.
Do I want to date? Nope. I'm very happily wedded to the ol' hubby here, and I think I'll stick with him for a long while. But I love to see Mom living. Living is the reason I won't be teaching online classes for an old employer--if I do, I know that for around 12 weeks my life will be on hold. I can't put my life on hold anymore. When should I live? Right now.
When should you live? Right now.
Don't tell me you have a cold. If living means snuggling into a comforter with a box of tissues and sleeping, then do it. If it means working on that novel (in my case), then work on it. If it means playing with your kids, petting your cat, jumping around to Irish dance music, or singing at the top of your lungs, then do that.
I know you can. Surely you have a few minutes. Live now.
