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Friday, February 2, 2018

Still water is not always running deep!

When I started datiing I drug home some of the damnedest things you ever saw.  Back in those days "cool" boys wore jeans with no belt and the waist band rode about 5" below the waist.  The legs were hemmed so they did not drag the ground.  Of course, back then kids had mothers that sewed and knew how to hem pants.  A sewing machine was a staple in any home.  Steve Dorrel was the first in our class to comb his hair into a "duck tail" and it was held in place with "greasy kid stuff."  He always wore a white shirt and the collar was turned up.  Every boy in school was measured by the Steve code and they all were found wanting.  Luckily, we had no idea what sex even was back in the 8th grade or everyone of us girls would have been in big trouble.

But grade school passed and high school was a new game.  No more Steve.  High school was pretty much a blur the first 3 years in Nickerson.  I was friends with a girl whose dad made home brew and that was fun.  My senior year I started in Hutchinson High School, ran away from home, came back and got a job in a "Toot and Tellum" which did not work out well at all.  It was at this juncture that mother suggested I might want to catch a man and get married, because I did not have a very bright future in store.

Now mother had always dispensed her wisdom on every subject known to man and people seemed to be her specialty.  "Still waters run deep."  This meant if a man was quiet, he was thinking, and if he was thinking that meant he was a good man.  Well, momma missed the  mark on that one!  I met my first husband because my brother brought him home to me.  He was quiet.  He opened doors for me.  So he had a beer now and then, but dad kept corn whiskey in the refrigerator so that meant nothing.  So in a matter of a few weeks I became Mrs. Tall Dark and Handsome.  He was actually a blue eyed blonde, and he wanted to get married and have babies and there I was!  Sadly, my first baby did not arrive for almost 2 years.  Mr. Still Waters became a regular little babbling brook and it was all aimed at my inability to conceive.  Hell, I was doing all I could and it seemed maybe he was at fault.  Yep.  Got scars on that one!  When my fertility kicked in, it was not to kick out for 7 years and 5 kids later.

But back to this still water running deep crappola mother was so fond of telling me.  My baby daddy was just the first water I encountered and let me assure you, I have learned a lot over the years, but it has taken me 75 years to get that one out of my head.  So let me fill you in.

(Now I am using the masculine noun here, because I am giving you my perspective as a woman.  Nothing personal)

If a man is not talking, it may be because he actually has nothing to say!  
Or he has something to say and he knows he is going to get an ass  eating if he says it.
Or he may be thinking about the hot little number he has lined up to see as soon as he gets rid of me.
Or he is waiting for me to excuse myself so he can pull his bottle out of his boot.
Or he may have actually forgotten I am there.

So there is a lot to be said on the subject of still waters.  Sometimes the still water is over the cesspool.  As I struggle through this life I meet a lot of people.  Most of them are just people and to be taken at face value.  But ever so often I latch on to one and hang on for dear life.  It never turns out well.  I have been a widow for 15 years and I have dated 2 men in that time.  I never really knew either one of them. 

I had a real connection with the first one, but he passed away.  He loved me and had we met at another time it would have been different, or so I think.  I even wrote a story about he and I.

The second one was a lot like a feather in the wind.  I never knew him at all, although I invested 5 years in what should have been a relationship, but was pretty much a superficial  sort of  a one sided friendship.  The boy was a lot like a bubble riding down a babbling brook.  Not all of us have to deal with reality.

I do not regret the time I invested in them, but I am pretty sure I am done with that dating business.  I tend my own flock, mow my own weeds, wash my own dishes and drive myself where ever I choose to go. I am starting to get out and do things that I did not have confidence in myself to do.  I went to Lakin last week and got my hair cut.  In April I am going to crawl on an airplane and fly to Dallas.  

Lord only knows what heights I can achieve if I just soar on my own wings for once in my life.  Bottoms up, momma, your little girl may be a woman yet! 


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