The Thunderbolt

I started out to write a blog post last night and I ended up writing a song instead. 

Well…  the lyrics anyway. I have some melodic fragments floating around in my head but nothing is sticking together yet. 

I was going to write a blog post about my current relationship status, or rather, lack thereof. 

Recap:

I’ve been married twice but only really in love once, and not with either of my husbands.

That relationship ended last summer and I’ve been in a hurry, it seems, to replace it. I was in a hurry because there’s no other feeling in the world like being in love. It’s addictive. I wanted more. 

But lately, I’m not in such a big hurry. I’ve slowed down some.

Some. It’s not like I have all the time in the world, you know. I’m middle-aged.

I’m learning a lot.

I’m learning that I love the attention of the opposite sex. I love it.  But I’ve also learned that unless that incredible chemistry - that ‘thunderbolt’ as someone once called it - unless there’s that, I’m not willing to settle in for the duration.

For many reasons.

I’ve learned that it’s really difficult, at this age…  middle age…  to be in a committed relationship.

It’s not the same at this age as it was in our twenties or thirties. At this age we come with children - sometimes grandchildren. We come with houses and mortgages and debt and careers and well-formed opinions. 

At this age we’re not hoping to find someone to start a family with. We’re wondering if our families can blend. We’re tentative about introducing someone new - someone who may or may not work out in the long term…  whatever ‘long term’ might mean.

At this age we know what we like and what we don’t like and perhaps we’re not so flexible in our ability to compromise as we once were. 

Unless…

Looking back, I am amazed at what I was willing to accept because underneath it all, there was that chemistry. Undeniable, head over heels love. 

Without that love, you can have all the quirks and idiosyncrasies you want, and I will applaud you for being unique and confident, but then I’ll send you on your merry way. Or maybe you’ll send me on mine. Because it’s not love and we’re not going to settle for less.

The nice thing, is that at our age, we’re both okay with that. 

You can follow me on Twitter:  @CeceliaHalbert

Christmas Eve, 2013

It’s the morning before Christmas.

Here at my computer I sit -

Fingers poised over the keyboard

Waiting for inspiration to hit.

I looked back at the poem

I wrote for last year

And remembered how money

Or lack of, was my biggest fear.

I had hoped that my children

Would feel as I did

And value love and tradition

Despite my financial skid.

And as Christmases go,

We had joy unsurpassed.

The new year looked brighter

Than in our recent past.

But the brightness soon faded

A dark cloud moved in

One trial after another.

We just couldn’t win.

So this Christmas Eve morning

My perspective has shifted.

We’ll hold tight to each other

Until that damned cloud is lifted.

This year the presents are many

Under our undecorated tree, but

We haven’t had time

For the usual frivolity.

But I’m counting my blessings           

Because this year, you see,

Though it might not have been so,
All my children are with me.

Merry Christmas, friends. 

You can follow me on Twitter: @CeceliaHalbert

On Writing

I haven't written anything but blog posts for a long time.

I was halfway through the sequel to Up the Hill when the plans for the second half went up in smoke. Not knowing where to go with it, I put it on the back burner.

While it was back there simmering, I pulled Up the Hill out of publication for editing, but life events got in the way and I haven't gotten back to that either.

And then the other day I came across this:

Before last summer, I didn't even know who Joss Whedon was. I'm not a big fan of action movies or vampires. But then I was listening to NPR one day and heard an interview with someone talking about Shakespeare in such an accessible and enlightening way that I sat in my car in my garage for a half hour because I couldn't stop listening until the interview was over. It was Joss Whedon.

Adding to his credibility, I learned he'd written the screenplay for Toy Story - one of my favorite movies of all time.  I looked him up on IMDb and my, what an immpressive list of credits he has to his name. I went to see his film adaptation of Much Ado About Nothing. I loved it. I'm now one of Joss Whedon's biggest fans.

So anyway...

I saw this quote and remembered why I write.

And as painful as it was, I opened up the manuscript to Up the Hill and started reading and editing and bringing those characters back to life and facing all those things I'm afraid of exploring.

Because that is why I write and that is where I find strength. Thanks for putting it so eloquently, Joss.


You can follow me on Twitter: @CeceliaHalbert

Driving Lessons (or dating lessons... whichever)

The following are some recent observations about driving habits of others. It occurred to me (after a bottle of pinot noir - NOT while driving) that the same observations could be made about the dating habits of others. 

You should turn your lights on when the sun goes down, or when driving in dense fog, or when precipitation has caused you to turn on your windshield wipers. When it’s difficult to see the road ahead of you or when others have difficulty seeing you, any extra illumination you have at your disposal is helpful.

If, however, you’re driving a big SUV and the person in front of you is driving a little sedan, then please back off because your headlights look like ET’s ship is coming in for a landing in their backseat. It’s intimidating. Take a breath and back up just a little bit.

The left lane is for passing only. Get out of the left lane unless you mean to pass someone. If you don’t intend to make a move, then get out of the way.  The rest of us get in the left lane because time’s running out and we have somewhere to go.

That being said, there are also times when you have to have some patience. If the person in the car that’s stopped in front of you in the parking lot is waiting for spot soon to be vacated by the person who just got into their car, please don’t be obnoxious and start honking your horn. They’ll move soon enough. That's not going to help anything. Some people don’t move as quickly as others and sometimes you have to be patient.

Conversely, when waiting to make a left turn and there’s no car in front of you, then pull into the intersection! What are you waiting for there behind the crosswalk? For the love of God, the light is green! It’s okay. It’s legal. You can pull into the intersection. You don’t have to wait for the guy behind you to start honking his horn. C’mon, honey. Time’s a-wastin’.

Get off your phone. No. Seriously. Get off your phone because the second you answered it your speed slowed by twenty miles an hour and you’re still in the left lane and not only that, you also didn’t notice how beautiful the sunset was on the lake you just drove by. The lady in the car next to you just shook her head and left you in the dust.

Lastly, you can see a lot in the rearview mirror, but if you want to keep going, you have to spend the majority of your time looking at what's in front of you right now.

You can follow me on Twitter: @CeceliaHalbert

A Fifty-something’s Unstructured Day Off

It’s the day after Thanksgiving and I don’t have to work today. My kids are at their dad’s house. I refuse to go anywhere near a retail establishment with the possible exception of my wine store, therefore I have time to get a lot of things done around the house. Here’s how my day is going so far:

I wake up at 7:30 but laze around in bed watching Good Morning America until 8:30, long enough for my dog to do in the house what she should have done outside but I was too lazy to get up and let her out.

I roll out of bed and shuffle to the kitchen in my robe and slippers, take the carpet cleaning solution from under the sink and pre-treat the carpet. I put water in the coffee maker, then notice the bucket of water that’s sitting on the counter that I need to add to the fish tank, so I go add the water to the fish tank which is next to the couch in the family room and I notice that my son has left a pile of string cheese wrappers on the coffee table.

I pick up the wrappers and take them to the garbage can in the kitchen, which is next to the empty dog food bowl. I get the Tupperware dog food container out of the cabinet and it’s empty too. In the garage, I keep a big bag of dog food from which I refill the Tupperware container so I go out to the garage (luckily the garage door is closed and the neighbors can’t see me in my robe and slippers) and I remember that I’d left a bag of clothes in the car that a friend had given me for my son. I set down the dog food container and get the bag of clothes out of the car and take them to my son’s room where I notice that the smell of teenage boy is quite overpowering so I set down the bag of clothes and strip the olfactory-offending sheets off of his bed.

I take the sheets down to the basement and put them in the washing machine and start it up and grab the sweaters I’d left on the drying rack last week and I take them upstairs to the dining room table where I fold laundry but my daughter’s art projects are covering the table, so I put the sweaters on the chair and I pile up the art projects and carry them up to her bedroom where I discover all of the juice glasses and spoons that have been missing for weeks. 

I gather up the dirty dishes and carry them down to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher that, thankfully, is close to the coffeepot and I remember that I’d started making coffee an hour earlier. This reminds me that I had also pre-treated the carpet, so I abandon the coffee-making again and go get the carpet cleaner and fill the tank with hot water and while I’m cleaning the spot that needed to be cleaned, I notice that the rest of the carpet is looking dingy, so I continue to clean the rest of the carpet in the room and while I’m slowly pushing and pulling the carpet shampooer across the floor I realize I haven’t written a blog post this week, so I turn off the machine and go sit down at my computer, but my reading glasses aren’t on the top of my head like they usually are.

My collection of reading glasses have a tendency to all end up in one area of the house, so now I just have to figure out where that is. The repository is usually on my nightstand, so I go back upstairs to my bedroom. I walk into to my bedroom and can’t remember what I was looking for so I go back to the computer and smack my forehead because when I look at the blurry screen I immediately remember why I had just gone up to my bedroom.

I also notice there is a pair of reading glasses on the table next to my computer.

And now it’s almost noon and I’m still in my robe and slippers with a no-caffeine headache and there’s a pile of sweaters that I’m either going to have to steam or put back in the washer and the dog is sitting next to her empty dog dish staring at me.

But I finished writing my blog post. 

You can follow me on Twitter: @ceceliahalbert

Bouncing Back

I’ve been through some difficult situations in my life and I’ve always bounced back. I always know I’ll bounce back and that makes it easier to get through whatever the difficulty is, but I have to say that I wasn’t so sure about my resiliency this last time around. I will admit to a few moments…  maybe more than a few…  where I wondered if I’d ever bounce again.

I trudged from my car to the front doors of my school one morning a couple of weeks ago after spending the evening at the hospital and the early morning talking to doctors and a couple of boys who had arrived very early were kicking a deflated playground ball against the wall of the school. Instead of bouncing back, the ball thudded against the wall and dropped to the ground. The boys would go and retrieve the ball and kick it again…  it thudded and dropped.

I was that ball. I was deflated and empty and thudding along.

I kept hoping that the one person I always thought would be there for me would know I was in trouble and he would find me, but he didn’t. I didn’t call him because I was afraid he wouldn’t come even if I called and I would have been more deflated than I already was and who needs that?

And then the tornado hit.  That’s not a metaphor for anything. I’m talking about a real tornado. An EF-4… in November. It barreled through the heart of my hometown and wiped almost 400 houses right off the face of the planet, one of them being the house I grew up in. 

I became the person that I am today in Washington, Illinois.  I don’t live in there anymore but my sister and my aunts and uncles and cousins do. I’m not really a Chicago girl. I will never be a suburban soccer mom. At my core I’m a Midwestern farm girl and that tornado nearly knocked the remaining air right out of me.

Last night I drove to Washington, my car loaded with donations from my friends and colleagues and strangers in my new community. I drove by myself, wanting that one person in the seat next to me. My heart was in my throat the entire way there and I wanted him to be with me, but he wasn’t.

I followed a parade of heavy equipment into town. Bright construction lights all over town lit up the night sky and my heart pounded. I’d seen the destruction on television, but I didn’t know what to expect when I saw it with my own eyes.

The reality was that it was horrible. I don’t have words to describe it. Some people used words like ‘war zone,’ but no… it wasn’t a war zone. It didn’t look like a bomb went off. I just don’t have words for it.

But then…  I saw the people. People working together to clear debris. People holding up other people. People coming from everywhere to help. One man drove from New Orleans and cooked jambalya for a thousand people. People brought trucks and tents and tarps and shovels and rakes and garbage bags and water and strong backs and big hearts.

I dropped off the donations to some very grateful volunteers, told them I’d be back in a few days, and I got back in my car and drove home.

And tonight I’m bouncing off the walls.

You can follow me on Twitter: @ceceliahalbert. 

Marriage Advice from the Unsuccessful

My life has been more than a little trying lately, so I decided maybe I'd take on someone else's issues this week instead of writing about my own. 

Disclaimer: I've been married and divorced twice, so take the following with a salt lick.

Tonight I read a lovely blog post from a recently divorced man. In his essay, he gave twenty stellar pieces of marital advice to the still-married men of the world. He said he learned them too late.

Well.     Yes…   too late.

It’s very easy to say things like “always choose love,” and “marriage isn’t about happily ever after. It’s about work,” and “be vulnerable,” and “give her space,” etc., etc., etc…   WHEN YOU’RE NOT MARRIED.

 

It’s very easy to figure out what you should’ve been doing all along when it’s after the fact. It’s lovely to be brilliant and insightful when it doesn’t matter anymore.

His wife probably wished he would have been so brilliant while he was still her husband.

Or maybe not.

We don’t know his ex-wife. Maybe he snores a lot, or chews with his mouth open, or can’t balance a checkbook to save his life, or maybe she has a boyfriend and she was happy to get rid of him. Who knows?

They’re nice pieces of advice, but really - I’m sure if she wanted to stay married to him, she probably tried to tell him all of those lovely things and he didn’t listen, so maybe the number one thing at the top of his list should have been:

LISTEN TO YOUR SPOUSE.

Not one of his twenty tips for a successful marriage mentioned listening.

Huh.

Maybe he’ll have to get married and divorced again to learn that lesson.

You can follow me on Twitter: @CeceliaHalbert