Hello from my small, but comfortable space at the Magee.
As I ponder the avenues that are in front of me, and as some of you know, the first 18 months of retirement have been a rollercoaster, I find myself also looking at the paths I have traveled, the choices made, and the consequences of said choices. While my last few posts have been about the situations that seem to be everywhere, within eyesight, within hearing range, and because of these two things, permeating my psyche to a degree I have perhaps never felt, this post is more about me, the person I am, how I have become that person, and to some degree an attempt to come to terms with that man, that human being. As most, I had ideas about where my life would go, what I might do, and, perhaps to some degree, wonder some of those “what might have been(s).” There is certainly more than one way to ponder it all. There is the idea of expectations, the reality of what happened, the accountability of one’s self for what actually occurred, and ultimately, am I content with where it all is.
Yesterday as I sat in a coffee shop, one where I have spent significant time, I bumped into a faculty colleague, one who started at Bloomsburg the same time I did. That individual is in a different college, and yet I remember them in those orientation meetings because their spouse asked more questions about benefits individually than perhaps the entire room did collectively. I remember that because I profoundly impressed with the depth and breadth of their questioning. They asked questions that benefited everyone there. Somehow the conversation yesterday took some unexpected turns, from insurance, Medicare, and retirement (not surprising) to what we are both working on at the present time (some degree of unexpected) to how it is I am single for so long and their evaluation of me as a potential interest for someone (most unexpected), but their words were beyond kind. What it did was got me thinking about how it is I am 70 single, have been for many years, and how that happened. That pondering, of course, got me thinking about people from various points of my life and who the people are that affected me in some manner. As my blog has revealed, I was a pondering kid, but also a directionless soul. The reasons for that are legion, but when I left home at 17 (and was somewhat out by 16), enlisting in the Marine Corps was a way to get away from home, perhaps an extreme way to do it, but that is what I did. When I got home after my stint in the Marines, I returned to Sioux City, probably not much more focused than the child who left a few years before. As I returned, what provided more sense of stability and hope initially was a new pastor and his family. His son became one of my most important friends, and whether or not it was wise, his sister became my first romantic interest. He was an incredible friend, and she was beautiful, personable, had (and still has) the most infectious laugh you will ever hear. She was the first person I was probably the proverbial head-over-heels about in my life, for sure. To this day, I am grateful to and for her. A couple of years later, a second person came into my life, and she taught me so much about what I should have probably known earlier in life. The reality of me was I had little idea of how to manage a relationship. In both cases, I am indebted to them beyond measure.
As I got into my twenties and in college, be it initially at Iowa State, where I failed miserably, I met a couple of people I found attractive, but I had little idea how to engage. One of them would show up again later when I was at the University of Iowa, and to this day, I wonder about her. She was incredibly intelligent, capable, attractive and personable. I wish I had managed my time with her much more thoughtfully. At Dana, I dated two people, one I have been fortunate enough to reconnect with many years later. She was beautiful, intelligent beyond her years, and one of the most talented people I perhaps knew in my time at Dana. The second person would become my first wife. She is a basically a good person, and I certainly could have been a better boyfriend, eventual spouse. What I believe now is, in spite of my being in my late 20s, I was not prepared to be a husband, and I think the age difference (I went to college later) played a significant role in some of those difficulties. I know that I made some major mistakes in how I managed being a husband.
From the time I ended up divorced from my first wife, I realized that I had made choices, from making my job more important than her to struggling with what we had become (the roles we had created were not helpful or healthy for us), I understood that much of what I had expected in terms of the American Dream had not really happened. This is not to place blame on either of us, but perhaps together we did not manage a number of things well. While I believed I had handled that divorce situation well because of the distance, what I know now is I was pretty much a mess. One of the sadder things I have realized over the years is I found the divorce to be cathartic. That is a bit of a strange, but I believe it explains how far we had moved from being a healthy couple. While not having children was not planned, but what occurred, I know how now I understand that was a blessing in disguise. I know there are a number of ways I could have been a better husband, a more supportive husband, and I am much more aware of the reasons for my failure. Again, while it is never one sided, I wonder if I had more attuned to what I needed to do, not only to improve myself, but to better attend to what she needed if we might have worked through the issues. In the years since, some of the things I believed I was incapable of I believe were misguided, but that is what time can do. A second marriage was even more problematic, and while ironically, this is a person I believe I truly loved (and still do to some extent), we both brought issues and baggage that were like standing in quicksand. That marriage lasted little more than four years, and we were separated for half of it. That should say enough, and yet, as I generally say to this day, should she walk into the same space as me, I would be a mess for a bit. I would have to use my brain rather than my emotions. Between her issues and my inability to manage my own struggles, perhaps it was doomed from the outset.
This brings me to my post-marriage life, which is now 25 years in length. While I have noted I appreciate my solitude, I am still that hopeless (hopeful?) romantic. As my colleague inquired the other day, “Isn’t it difficult? Aren’t there times you wish you were involved with someone?” Those are a bit paraphrased, but nonetheless get at his questions. He was quite shocked that I had somehow remained single. In the time I have been in Bloomsburg, there are two people I found some connection to, but those encounters resulted in continuing a friendship with both, and with one, I would say we are very good friends. Another friend (and female) who knows me quite well asked me in the somewhat recent past if I am afraid because of my medical issues to become involved with someone. That was actually a thoughtful and fair question. If I think about the people to whom I have been attracted, there are commonalities, which is true for all of us. I, like most, notice the physical attributes of someone, but those will change over time. Like I once told a student who tried to bat their eyes at me . . . just don’t, it will not work. I did explain that some day when they were older than would not serve them well. So . . . as you spend more time with someone, what I find attractive is someone who is thoughtful and principled. Someone who questions, and is always learning. Someone who is both willing to be themselves and willing to share themselves to the betterment of a partnership and relationship that enhances both themselves and the other. This is where I believe I am much more thoughtful about the other than I was earlier in life. In some sense of transparency, I have tried the online dating thing, and I have not found it particularly helpful. First, perhaps it is my own difficulty, but paying to talk to someone, and ultimately paying for every letter of a word, or extra credits for a picture does not seem to be reasonable and like I am buying someone to talk to me or paying to speakl with them. Then there is wondering if they are real? Do they exist?
As I have noted in the past, there are one of two people, both of whom I have loved, and one case, most of my life, but the timing was never right. I am reminded of what my first LYE host-mother said to me, “Michael, I could have married a couple of people I loved, but the timing was not right.” The second I have incredible respect for, and while I honestly told them they were one of the people I could have imagined a relationship with, I officiated their wedding, which means that would not happen. And yet as I learned from my colleague the other day, who is married, perhaps we always wonder the what might have been? As I have learned for myself, perhaps the importance of those what-if people, even in the last 25 years, we always imagine being with someone. We always hope that there is someone somehow that we can make a difference in their life and they in ours. In the meanwhile, I think of all the people who have touched my heart in some manner at some point in my life, regardless of where it all ended, and I am grateful.
Thank you as always for reading.
Michael
thewritingprofessor55 