Senior dating and dating tenure
In the dating world, I would be considered the Dating Sensei and my mother would be my Grasshopper. She could learn a thing or two from me, and yet, she continues to wallow in semi-happiness and complacency. She has not learned from my lessons, but I have learned from hers.
“This is all your fault,” she squawked to me last night on the phone. I continue to be blamed, four years later, for placing the personal ad that yielded her an old man she respectfully refers to as Mr. Harris.
“He thinks going to the pool is bathing and he’s cheap. He lives with me and won’t consider buying ½ a car with me, but it is OK for me to chauffeur his ass all over town and put miles on MY old car,” she said.
“Well, mom, why don’t you go retro on him and quote him rates. Hookers have base rates and a la cart price lists. Tell him it is $2.00 to get in the car and $.35 each quarter mile,” I suggested while she laughed.
It pains me to see Mom in this situation. Dad has been gone nearly nine years. She had an adjustment being alone after being an old man caregiver for so long. It was fun to see her excited about dating, but she didn’t broaden her sample size prior to settling for this dirty, alcoholic, and cheap old man. Now she is complaining and realizing she compromised standards and yet she can’t give this bad habit up. The fear of being alone grips her again.
I asked her if Mr. Harris has ever told her he loved her, but I quickly told her I didn’t want to know. I know the answer is no. They care for each other in their own weird help-I’ve-fallen-and-I-can’t-get-up way, but there’s no love here. I guess codependency breeds contempt.
I continue to learn through my mother’s bad examples and she won’t listen to me. Why be bothered if you aren’t having fun? If you don’t smile and receive joy from your partner, love will never grow.
Why waste your time?
NEXT.
Move on and never settle for a bad definition of happiness, grasshopper.