She was with me for the longest time and then "poof" she was gone leaving me alone to resume the solitude I knew before we were married. We had talked about what we would do if one of us had a terminal illness. The plan was to obtain a boat and take it out where there was little chance of being discovered and then together take lethal doses of narcotics so we would end our lives without having one to grieve for the other. It was just a fantasy but considering what I've endured the plan still has a certain appeal. During the last four months of Linda's illness, I was her care giver. I liked doing it because it was a distraction and gave me the opportunity to return the attention and support, she extended to me during our marriage. I did everything I could to make her comfortable in our home hoping that it would extend her life. But her condition rapidly worsened requiring hospitalization to treat a lung infection and pneumonia. Almost to the end she denied she was dying until the doctor informed us there was nothing more to do other than palliative care. At that point Linda told me that I had no choice but to go on without her. She was adamant about that and said that I had no choice in the matter. Her final coherent words to me were "I Love You" as she struggled to breath. Then the morphine and Ativan were introduced, and she drifted off to sleep until she could breathe no longer. It was about a day from the time the drugs were applied until she took her last breath. Those last moments of her life will be etched in my mind for ever because she looked so uncomfortable and there was nothing, I could do except to remind her I loved her, that I would be fine and that it was okay to go to G_d.
In summarizing my life and our time together, it conjures up a story about a train that I was riding when Linda got on at the station I sojourned to. She sat beside me, and we struck up a conversation, fell in love and then married. The trip lasted thirty years with stops along the way and with the expectation that we would arrive at our final destination together but that didn't happen. The train stopped at a place where she suddenly informed me that it was time for her to leave me and that I would have to continue the journey alone. She kissed me goodbye and that was the last time I saw her.
On the day she died, the character of everything I looked at seemed different. The way the sun fell into diagonal columns through the window gave the house a lonely feel. The way the approaching sunset illuminated the house with an orange hue created by the suns bent rays of light seems different. It's quiet too, unfamiliar and unsettling except for the occasion breaks in the silence punctuated by a passing car or the drone of a lone single engine airplane on its way to an unknown destination. I miss the din of her favorite TV shows as background noise that reassured me, she was safely in the house. I still listen for that unmistakable theme music of Jeopardy and Wheel of fortune that she watched religiously. Now all I hear is the stillness punctuated by the Tick Tok of the grandfather clock I repaired for her so many years ago. All these things combined create an overwhelming sense of isolation that is compounded by the lack of empathy displayed by my dog Abby. Many dogs will hover near a distressed person when they sense something is wrong. Since Abby was bonded to Linda, she is not sensitive to my depression created by this new normal. She is not at all responsive to my moods and will only seek me out when she wants something or needs to go outside. In some ways that adds to my sense of isolation. Even so I love the dog and she will obey me most of the time especially when I'm needy and need something to hug. My cat Loki is far more demonstrative than Abby.
Moving about the house festooned with her utensils and personal items is painful, triggering paroxysms of tears and sobbing. I cannot touch these things without her permission which will never be forthcoming, so they remain where they were when she last touched them.
In my loneliness I have sought out companionship on various websites catering to senior citizens. My search has been difficult and has been complicated by people who prey on vulnerable lonely people. Over time I have learned their methods and successfully navigated the net to find genuine and sincere people to chat with. Dating for the first time since bachelorhood is completely different than it was when I was in my twenties, thirties, and forties, when my objectives were far more predatory. Now what I'm looking for is someone I am completely at ease with and who can
love and appreciate me in her own way and want's the same for herself. I want a pal and a part time lover who is independent and has her own point of view without trying to adopt or accommodate mine. After living with a strongwoman like Linda I know what I want in a woman's character.
This is Seventy writing to you from Pennsylvania a great place to look for single women,