This year, my best mate has spent five months apart from her husband. Work committments and the palliative care and death of relatives in other countries - just the sheer logistics of it has necessated a long time apart. They speak on the phone every day, and would rather be together, but also she enjoys being on her own. It's not a chore for her. He's a lot older than her and she can imagine being on her own just fine after he leaves. It's a sad thought - but she is also independent and likes her own company.
I get that. A few years ago I went around Tassie in my van for nearly a month. I loved it. No arguments about which dirt track to go down or where to park the car at camp. No having to compromise. Just being alone with my thoughts, drifting. Jamie says I can go whenever I like, and means it, but I feel guilty that's he's working and feel like I should be around to support him. In a partnership, this feels right. Sometimes it feels like a sacrifice, but he give up things for me too. It's that give and take they talk about in marriage, right? When I think about being apart, and forever, it's upsetting.
I honestly love my husband. It's me and him against the world, to be all cliche. I love snuggling him and sharing tears and giggles with him. He's my partner in crime and love and we love hanging out together more than anyone else.
Jamie says if I go he'd dig a hole and shovel dirt on his head, but I think he'd just go back to England. Me, I'd probably get a high top van and travel, including overseas, or maybe a Land Cruiser or something.
Yes, solo. It's less complicated. Less messy. My rules. No one telling me what to do (that's a marriage joke, and married people will get it).
I would never remarry, partly because I'd hate all that getting to know you phase as you adjust to a new rhythm of life, but mostly because I don't think I'd meet anyone I'd tolerate as much as I do Jamie. I had pretty high standards for who I could put up with - he's intelligent, and has a mercurial mind to put up with my airy, changeable nature that likes to mix things up and gets bored easily. And he makes me laugh. It took me a long time to meet someone that I loved enough to think that I could spend the rest of my life with them, and believe me, we have days where I wish like hell I wasn't married at all, or at least I wish he'd shut up about tanks, bike packing, AI, and Land Rovers.
My Mum's looking at being alone for the rest of her life now. She's 75, and Dad died at 77 last year. They were married at 16 and loved each other dearly. I don't think she'd ever contemplate another partner - she loved Dad, and that was it. In comparision, my mother in law lost her second husband five years ago, and is now with a new partner, and happier than she's ever been. She's off caravanning around England very aware her partner could die at any moment - he's 80, though spritely, and has a dicky heart. They're taking advantage of what they have and I have never, never seen the woman so light and happy. It's lovely.
Mum and Dad, 1970
I don't know, I guess perhaps I can't imagine myself meeting someone now and having sex and doing all that shit and I'm 54. In twenty years I imagine I'd like it even less. I suppose it'd be fun to have a male (or female) friend or partner, but living together and getting married, nah.
I'm suprised I got married even once.
This is in response to the Ladies of Hive QOTW #248 by @ifarmgirl, which asks: 'Would you consider remarrying or having another partner if you are a 71-year-old widow/widower? Why or why not?'