The spectacularly unspectacular

This week, my friends have been chatting about going to the movies.  Many entries this week on fb referring to going to movies, new releases, films they want to see, and who they will see them with when they go.  One of my friends chatted about going to see the new Bond movie with her husband.  That’s all, a simple mention of a relatively unspectacular thing and it has moved me to reflection all week.  It’s not a huge thing, but it does get the bubbles of my grief rising, unexpectedly.

So, for most the week, I’ve been remembering, thinking, and hoping for those simple, unspectacular moments of life again. I miss those simple Friday nights when we could slip away for a few hours and just hang out…you know…dinner and a movie or something like that.  It was so easy, so simple, so unspectacular.  As I remember, I also begin thinking about what I want.  I do want those simple, unspectacular moments again, but it seems so difficult to get started again.  Part of the reason the moments were so unspectacularly spectacular back then was because we knew each other well, we had chosen each other, it was our life.  The hard part now…starting over…I still feel like I just don’t know how to do it.  It seems like it would be fun, nice, even intriguing to get to know someone new.  It seems like it would be nice to just go to dinner and a movie. I guess the hardest part is finding a nice fella who is interested back and wants to just go to a movie and dinner.

It’s so strange, I don’t remember this being difficult at all when I was younger.  There are many factors now, I guess…or so my friends tell me…things like; I’m so busy, most my friends are married, the place I work isn’t really full of available men…blah, blah, blah…

I guess many of those things are true, but they are true for many of the women who find themselves single again for whatever reason.  For some reason, I see them finding their way to dinner and a movie…not always, mind you, but they seem to find people.

When I think about it more, I think it might be because I’m still finding my way.  I am still a work in progress.  I am somewhere between Dave’s wife and single Chris.  I am setting up a new future.  I am a parent and that takes up much of my brain space, most of the time.  Maybe it’s because I don’t often think of myself as someone who is looking for love?  Maybe because I know I was lucky enough to have had love…and that is truly amazing.  Maybe I still am afraid to lose love again? Maybe the walls I built to get me through widowhood are so fortified, I can’t see the people who want to come inside them?

I guess any and all of these are a possibility.  I’m sure some day, I will find myself having a spectacularly, unspectacular moment again.  It may be soon, it may not. What I do know for sure is that when it does happen…it will not be unspectacular.  It will be spectacular because I know the journey I traveled to get there.

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2 thoughts on “The spectacularly unspectacular

  1. Recently I have found myself picking movies to watch at home with my two sons, who have reached the age that they can watch the movies my late wife and I enjoyed so much. That way I can indirectly instill mom’s taste in them. Only after the movie I tell them how mom and I enjoyed the flick. When we’re in the theater I always find a moment in the story that hits me, and don’t laugh (actually do laugh): The latest Toy Story movie made me cry when the boy leaves home for college which saddens mom. You will obviously realize why my tears started flowing, and boy was I happy it was dark in that theater.
    Glad to read you’re a work in progress. Progress… progress!!! 🙂

  2. Kevin says:

    Christine,
    This post really resonates with me. My wife and I loved to go for drives in the country, go to the next county for a hamburger, or dinner and a movie as you mention. I went to see the movie Argo by myself because I didn’t want to face trick-or-treaters. I watched all the credits because that’s what we would have done to make waiting for the crowd to thin a little more fun, but it’s not the same alone. Not long ago I went to dinner with a nice woman whose spouse also has passed away. We had a lovely conversation, but there were barriers of uncertainty between us. Afterwards, I felt empty and alone again.
    I miss having someone to hang out with, too. I miss the trust and the companionship.
    My wife passed away a year ago and I’ve been following your blog for several months. Thank you for posting your thoughts.

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