Face in the Mirror & Behind the Bedroom Door: two books you’ll love
I love memoir anthologies, and I have two marvelous ones to recommend to you. Both offer engrossing, well-crafted, personal stories from seasoned writers, many–maybe most–of them our age.
Face in the Mirror: Writers Reflect on Their Dreams of Youth and the Reality of Age,
Sometimes the “face in the mirror” theme is literal: appearance, self-image. Other times these writers look at their upraising, their goals, their career choices, their relationship mistakes. The stark difference between where they thought they were headed and where they actually ended up should be a useful warning to young people fretting about their goals. Whatever you plan won’t work the way you think. And that’s usually a good thing.
Behind the Bedroom Door: Getting It, Giving It, Loving It, Missing It
Some of these essays are sweet, like Hope Edelman’s memory of 15-year-old sex (“Two people touching each other in all the right places, because there were no wrong places then, doing it for no reason other than it felt good and to keep doing it felt even better.”). Some are full of erotic discovery, energy, self-assertion. Some may disturb you, like Abby Sher’s essay about anorexia, cutting and a lover helpless to stop either, and Julie Powell’s essay about her need for rough sex (“D was a perceptive lover, perceptive enough to know before I did that I wanted him to hit me, control me, hurt me.”) All are powerfully written.
If you’re still making gift-giving decisions, you can’t go wrong with one of these books. For other recommended books that I’ve reviewed, click here.
Becka, 70: 3 Men in Photo Finish for her Heart
Becka, our intrepid senior online dating reporter, has met several men now — after rejecting far more. Three men seem to be in a photo finish for her heart, she tells us! Here’s her latest report:
PHOTO FINISH — PART 2
by Becka
I winnowed and winnowed trying to separate the wheat from the chaff and I didn’t even know what chaff was until I read some of the self- descriptions guys put on dating sites. Leo wrote that he was looking for a “soulmate to love forever” and then mentioned that his dog had passed away and “no one can replace that void.” Next!
Alex, 5′ 3” who makes less than $20,000 thought I should know that he “reads women’s magazines to study the opposition.” Next!
Sammy carroled that he wanted “to be Gomez to your Morticia.” Next!
Here’s the winner: said Donald of himself, “I am a smoker, earn under $12,000, drink a little, am passive and submissive and am looking for a woman who will finish the job my mother and sister started when I was a kid of turning me into a full female.” Neeeext!
You will learn an awful lot about yourself on this journey. Some things not so good; other things pretty damn good! I learned I liked a sense of humor but sometimes lacked one myself. It took a while for me to realize that Joe was joking when he wrote, “She must be breathing. If she’s not breathing, the whole deal is off.” Joe became Date No. 1. He does make me laugh and helps me be less uptight.
I also learned I am more of a risk taker than I thought. When Bill would not give any additional information until I revealed something of myself, I complained. He wrote, “Aw, now, why wouldn’t you want some mystery?” Bill became Date No. 2. We met the first time at a local diner and each of us wore something from Star Wars so we’d recognize the other. Okay, so now you know I’m a geek.
I like these men and intend to keep seeing them, but my favorite is Steve, Date No. 3. He is the one who offered to cook for me, massage my feet and “wander through the woods together armed only with a camera.” He suggested meeting at a hiking club event. I felt safe and knew I’d have a good time even if we didn’t hit it off. Smart man!
There are fabulous times to be had with wonderful people! To pull this off you need two senses: “common” and “adventure.” “Sixth” doesn’t hurt either. My three men are in a photo finish for my heart. My advice to you: get going!
Thank you, Becka, for sacrificing so much time in the pursuit of, uh, educating the rest of us! See Becka’s other online dating reports here.
Becka, 70: meeting men on senior dating sites
Becka, our intrepid senior online dating reporter, sent us her evaluation of several online dating sites from the perspective of a senior woman seeking men. As always, her report is both informative and entertaining:
PHOTO FINISH — PART 1
by Becka
Let me paraphrase an old rock n roller: What a short, strange trip it’s been! A jolly, jarring, coo-coo, sweet time I’ve had meeting men on senior dating sites. From boffo to bozo, I’ve met them all – or so it seems. Too many men, too little time, not enough memory.
Eharmony probably has the best setup. They guide you through the process beautifully, with many options, and the vibes inherent in their name appear to attract a higher type of person, male and female. (That would be me, of course.) You will end up spending money unless you’re very lucky — and quick, because most of these dating sites are timed release sites. That means, they won’t release you to a fuller experience unless you are on time with a payment.
AgeMatch is just what it says. If you want a younger man but will stop short of hanging out at the local high school, this is your website. To each his own. One 30-something accepted me with the succinct phrase, “You’ll do.” I was supposed to be flattered. I was not.
On the other hand, a 20-something commented on my picture, “You look like a lovely fairy in the woods.” I was charmed. However, I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a 10-year old using his dad’s computer.
Surprisingly I got more responses here than I did anywhere else: 67. Sixty-seven men wanted an older woman. Wow. Tell Hollywood! This may be very hopeful to those of you desiring that younger flash and dash. Or maybe youth today is just more tired than we know.
A super-friendly site is seniorchatters. It’s located in the UK, but don’t let that stop you. Plenty of Americans have joined. You get the first two weeks free, which is a plus. You can find both friends and lovers on this site and I began an interesting communication with a woman who lives in Turkey. I thought it would be neat to correspond with someone who has an entirely different life from mine. Keeps your brain alive.
I did end up going out with three men from my area and each one was a lovely person. I’ll share my experiences next time. Life is long and hectic, until you get to be a senior. Then you realize your mistake. It’s actually short and lonely. Why don’t they tell us? Don’t wait!
Thank you, Becka, for sacrificing so much time in the pursuit of, uh, educating the rest of us! See Becka’s other online dating reports here.
Missing Robert
I’m trying to work on my book, but as my birthday approaches, I miss Robert so horribly that I had to write memories of him. Excerpts:
I cried with Robert when we were forced to accept his death. His mind stayed strong at first as his body weakened. While he still had the strength, he prepared with the care and organization that he always ran his life. He got his affairs in order and cleaned out his files and his painting studio. He gave away thousands of dollars worth of art supplies to an art program for developmentally disabled adults. He made gifts to family and friends. He labeled files that I would need.
Multiple myeloma sapped his life from him while he still breathed. His back, broken in six places, caused him brutal pain. One day he drew the pain to show me. His drawing was so raw, so anguished, so horrible in its detail, that I wail aloud picturing it. I am tempted to share it with you here, but I won’t, because you could never forget it.
It wasn’t until Robert entered hospice care that he was able to be at peace, out of pain, and a loving man again. I owe a great debt of gratitude to hospice, who figured out how to medicate him properly and counseled him with great respect and warmth. They also gave me the bereavement support and counseling that enabled me to preserve what was left of my sanity.
Robert’s last ten days were spent in bed, journeying in and out of consciousness. Sometimes he woke startlingly lucid and sweet, sharing memories and words of love. Often he was only semi-awake, seeming to have one foot in our world and one foot in another. His comments were occasionally hilariously funny – he saw our line dance class dancing with llamas on a stage in front of us, for example, or he plucked flying books from the air for his granddaughter Megan, an avid reader, to attach to her eyes — though he didn’t know why we were laughing.
Sometimes he slept for days, and I thought I’d never hear his voice again.
One day I was crying in my study, listening to his breathing on the baby monitor that hospice recommended. “I wish I had my best friend, my darling Robert, to ask for help with this,” I sobbed.
Then it occurred to me: I still did. Perhaps the man in the bed was a shadow of the man he used to be, but he was still there. I went to the bedroom, where he lay, eyes closed, mouth slack. I took his limp hand and whispered, “Can you please help me for a minute?”
“Yes,” he said quietly, without opening his eyes.
“How will I go on without you?” I asked, resting my tear-streamed face on his chest as lightly as I could so I wouldn’t hurt him.
He stroked my hair slowly, a whisper of a touch, soft as a kiss. “You’ll be okay,” he told me. “Reach out to people.”
Now I do. I reach out to people I know, people I don’t know. I reach out to you.
