Lost his teeth and found a heartache

Writing my last blog of the year, on the last day of the year, is the last thing I had in mind to do today. But since I’ve been remiss in keeping up on blog posts during this much harried holiday season, I thought I must write one more to even the score.

There was a catastrophe in the news today. An Italian man (99) filed for divorce after discovering that his wife (96) had an affair 60 years ago. Okay, it’s not necessarily catastrophic news. If their divorce is finalized they will get to hold the world title of oldest couple ever to divorce. But with 77 years of marriage under their belt, would they view that as a failure or success?

It obviously still hurts, even when you’re nearly a century old, to learn that someone has broken your trust and your heart. But you’d think the anger and burning embers would cool quicker at 99 than they did at say, 39, when the affair actually happened. Still, she kept the letters. But maybe she kept the letters and then over the next 60 years she totally forgot she had letters, or that she once had a lover who sent letters, and when her husband said, “I can't find my teeth. Maybe they're in that locked box at the bottom of your undie drawer,” she ignored him and sat down to watch Wheel of Fortune and knit a pair of socks.

Sometimes the comments on news stories are much funnier than the actual story and in this case I thought they were. So, I’m going to share a few:

One person said, “Sounds like he’s ready to move on with his life.”

I don’t know where he’d be moving to other than a care center, but maybe he’d meet a younger woman there and start over.

Another person said, “A couple I know divorced after 75 years together. The judge asked...'Why are you divorcing now after so long together?" They replied, “We wanted to wait until the kids were dead.”

I totally understand this reasoning. Children will never truly accept their parent’s divorce. It’s just the way it is. But if you wait long enough…

A man wrote, “Good for him..Now he can go out and find a hot, young 80 year old.”

And that brings us back to the care center.

My question after reading this story was:

“Why did this old man decide to go through his wife’s personal stuff all of a sudden? What man has ever cleaned out a closet or drawer without being nagged?

So here’s what I think happened (since I write fiction for a living, you can take it or leave it):

His wife wanted him to find the letters. She must have planted them smack dab in the middle of his easy chair. Otherwise, he never would have found them. It’s a universal fact that a man can’t find anything unless it's right under his nose. The letters had to have been planted.

But don’t take my word for it. Read the news yourself!

Happy New Year!

Hermit Writer

I always have these two to keep me company while I write

The holiday season has nearly sucked the life out of me. Not only is the weather cold and drab, drying my skin to the texture of fine mummy, but people are rude in stores, drive oblivious to the rest of creation on the roads, and pretty much make me want to crawl under my desk and never come out again.

I admit, as a writer, I am somewhat of a hermit, but when you’ve been locked away at your desk for so long and then are thrust naked (metaphorically speaking) into the rush of humanity at this time of year, it can be quite harmful to one unaccustomed to dealing with actual people that do whatever they want and won’t follow your author(itarian) direction.

I love to shop online, but sometimes the call of the wild still speaks to me. I dress warmly, make sure I have snacks in my purse just in case I get lost on the way to Target, and drive out of my comfortable neighborhood with my “money does grow on trees” plastic credit card to shop in the wild suburb chain stores.

If I weren’t so worried that someone would ding my car, I wouldn’t have to park a half a mile from the front doors, but I’ve got my warm wool coat and scarf, so I’m good. Then once inside, I sweat like a possum in heat from my energetic walk and because the store’s temperature just happens to be set at 95º.

I thought I’d pretty much mastered shopping without actually coming in contact with other individuals, but at this time of year that is nearly impossible – cause they’re everywhere. I often wonder why some people can’t schedule their shopping at a more convenient time for me. It’s not as if there aren’t fourteen more of this same department store planted every other mile up and down the county. Couldn’t they shop at one a bit further from my neighborhood?

Once I leave the store and head for home, I feel a rush of impatience to be back in my comfortable environment, safe from flu germs, crazy shoppers with pepper spray, making small talk with strangers at registers, and listening to one-sided conversations of people yelling into their cell phones. (They should at least put it on speaker-phone so we can enjoy both sides.)

But in spite of my Beetle’s turbo engine, I can never break the sound barrier or even the speed limit, because every driver spaces their vehicle a mere cars-length apart in both lanes and refuses to let me pass. I have never figured out why car companies advertise the number of seconds it takes to get up to 60mph, because NO ONE ever does it! I try but the CSP (citizens speed police) won’t let me.

I’m back in my safe place again, sitting at the desk, typing this blog for you. See – I like people! Just at a distance. Happy Holidays and safe shopping!