At 10:30 this morning, I went to June and Si's to do their housecleaning. They are the cutest couple! Si is 88, and June is 86. They have been married for 70 years! 70! I'm not even sure I'll live 70 years, and considering I haven't had a relationship that lasted more than 70 days in over two years, I'm not sure I'll ever be married for one year. Hell, not even one minute!
I couldn't help but admire the longevity that was contained within the walls of that house. Their carpeting has not a single stain, or wear pattern, and they have had it for 20 years. The console T.V. June left on from morning til' night, every day, for the last 22 years, just quit working. Family photos, trinkets, and heirlooms... all decades old, yet still in pristine condition. Their marriage... still going strong. They... are still going strong.
As I dusted photos of children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, I began to wonder what I was missing. I currently have one photo of a family member displayed in my house: my mother. I have no husband. No kids. And surely no grandkids. Is this one of the secrets to a long and happy life?
Not only do they not make things like they used to, we don't appreciate things the way older generations do. I'll be seeing my own grandmother Wednesday, and I guarantee she will be wearing her light blue ski coat. The same ski coat she has worn every winter since I've been alive!
We toss away things so easily. Tire of them. Never have them long enough to begin appreciating them, because we are always in search of the "bigger," "better" one. This goes for people too! I love watching films from the early years, when a man met his future date's parents at the door, with flowers for the mother, and a nervous handshake for the father. Growing up in a single parent home, this scenario couldn't have happened in my teenage years... but the thought of how differently things would have been fascinates me.
June had asked me if I was married. She asked me that last time, but her memory often fails her. "Oh. I was going to ask if you had kids," she said. June comes from a time where having children without a husband wasn't common, so she didn't consider the fact that I could have been a parent. "I haven't found the right one," I said. "In fact, I'm not even looking anymore." Then June follows with the same sentence every woman over 70 says to me, "Ohhhh you've got plenty of time, dear."
Um. No I don't, June. She must not have a clue as to how old I am, and that's just fine. But I am very aware that my reproductive years are very limited.
I love children, and I definitely have the "what would my kid look like/act like" curiosity that I think most people have, but I have no "ticking clock." In fact, my "clock" isn't even plugged in. As much as I would love to provide my mother with a grandchild, I definitely don't wish to be a single mother, especially not an unemployed one, living on welfare. I'd like to have a few things working in my favor before I procreate. I watched my mother struggle. I felt that struggle. I struggled. I'm holding out hope that I'll be able to have someone there with me... and that it happens before I'm barren, or my mother isn't able to enjoy being a grandmother.
But... I'm unemployed, receiving $14 a month in food assistance, at serious risk of falling permanently behind financially, and not even dating. And the truth is... I'm quite comfortable with the "no-kids" thing. I think that would change if I were to truly fall in love with someone that would stick around long enough to knock me up. I know I would survive being a single mother... I'm just not sure my kid would, and I'm not going to gamble with the psyche of a child willingly.
Breaking news! I might be breaking my night-owl curse! I have managed to remain awake for a solid 21.5 hours... if I can't sleep tonight... for more than four hours... I'm going to start sniffing glue.
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