As most of you know, I have been married several times and sent several lawyers on vacation. That having been said, I would like to clarify my current status. I am now a widow and that is the way I plan on staying. Kenny and I were married 20 years and he has been gone 20 years. I plan on remaining in my current state for the remainder of my life.
When Kenny had been gone 5 years I began to date. Now, you should know that I like tall men. Kenny was 5' 6" or so, but he had a lot of redeeming qualities. He was honest, compassionate, a very hard worker and most importantly of all, he had a sense of humor. Albeit a warped sense of humor, it pretty much matched mine. That and the fact that I had finally found a man of whom my mother approved made it a match made in heaven. We began our marriage living in sin but remedied that 11 months later. He passed away 20 years later. I did not date for 6 years, but then I met a man at Starucks who struck my fancy. His name was not important. He was from back east.
He was 6' 2". I am 5' 1". He was a Republican; I was a Democrat. He took me out to eat. We went for walks. His dog loved me. He was a retired plumber from Denver, originally from St. Louis. We had nothing in common, but we liked each other's company. I love country western music. He liked Opera. I liked to pull weeds. I volunteered at Hospice and he collected BMW's. We had nothing in common and one day it became too much and it ended in a screaming match. I did not see nor hear from him for 2 years.
I do not know if you know how the dyslectic mind works, but he was a classic dyslectic. He looked for me in the sewing machine stores. And the library and down on the levy where I used to walk. But he never thought to look in the phone book. Now if God has a plan, it always works out and one day my phone rang, and it was him! A friend in Denver told him to look in the phone book, and there I was!
He began talking like our last visit was yesterday. He now had prostate cancer and he was on Hospice Care. I had just started volunteering at Sangre de Cristo in the Eleventh Hour program so he became my client. A match made in heaven, so to speak. I was with him every day. We took walks. We shared meals. I did his laundry and cleaned his house. I took him to doctor appointments. When he was not feeling well, I walked the dog. We became close friends. His younger brother came to see him. Then his other brother. His sister in law. Friends from Denver. Another friend from California. He grew thinner and weaker.
When he began to grow thin and weak and we knew the end was near, he made the decision to enter a nursing home. He did not want to be a burden to me. His executor came from Denver and signed the papers to make it happen. His will was made and all the paperwork done. I would be in charge of the house and the dog until his death and then things would be settled. I was to get $5000. But then he had a change of heart! He decided he would marry me so I could inherit his estate! How sad he was that I said no. But I did tell him that since he had managed to stay single for 78 years, God would be happy to see him without a wife! I further explained that if his motivation was to make me his heir, the lawyer could easily change his will. So he went that route.
He was clear about what he wanted me to do with his estate. I got $5000 to spend as I wanted. Everything would be sold and the balance would be deposited in a special account and spent on charities of my choosing. So for a few days I owned a 4 story Victorian house with a round "witches hat". I gave the dog to a friend of his in Colorado Springs, and gave the house key to the executor.
I spent several months giving checks to various charities and different places in need of money. The last $6,000.00 was spent on a new motor for one of the volunteers at SCAP who did a really lot of volunteering and organizing and needed a vehicle that he could depend on for travel. And then it was all gone!
I look back on that period of my life with a woulda, coulda, shoulda feeling. I miss him in ways I can not explain. When I met him he was a fire breathing man who had no use for anyone who was not white and Republican. He hated minorities, gays, women, Democrats and most of all country western music. (Damned "Hillbillies!") He was a Catholic and I a Baptist. Watching him in the last months of his life was a joy I can not explain. He came to accept my gay friends and my blended family. Sister Nancy Crafton came to talk to him and I went to walk the dog. When I returned she was gone and he had a countenance about him that was an acceptance of things to come and included a reconnection with the Catholic church that had been so long forgotten.
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