Futures

WitchWoman has done a remarkable job of organizing her stuff into workable order in the temporary house. She is thought to be the single largest supplier to the DAV Thrift Store. There is a pile of discarded things on the front porch, ready for transport to the DAV warehouse. I know that it has been difficult for her to part with some of her treasures. Some folks accumulate – she is a master of it.

More than the logistics of salvaging and relocating, though, are larger and more demanding questions of what is next. For WitchWoman, does she rebuild her house in the same place, does she take the insurance settlement and move to Kansas City to be near her kids, does she build a place on family land in Kansas, or does she chuck it all and sell flip-flops on a Costa Rican beach? All legitimate opportunities. Then there is the lingering question of what to do with me. How do I fit into her picture?

For me, I am slowly concluding that Tom Wolfe was right and wondering what is the next step to take. If Alabama is not working out, and there is little enthusiasm for returning to Southwest Missouri, then where? I think I am not old enough to retire. More accurately, I am not mature enough to retire. I don’t know how to behave as a retiree. Likewise, what do I do with WitchWoman? How many times in my life am I going to find a person, especially a woman, for whom I have such regard?

So, in lots of ways, this trip to Joplin is about futures. Sounds serious and it is.

Love, romance and relationships are different when you are in your 60s as compared your 20s. Instead of being blinded by love, today I am blinded by reality. My body is falling apart, the number of medications I take daily is increasing, and mobility and mental clarity are declining. I am heading to the barn, not firing out of the gates. That said, and celebrated as appropriate, I am fortunate to have nurtured a romance with WitchWoman. I suspect too many folks my age suffer from loneliness. But, both of us have familial obligations in our respective places. She has her mother (91 and in a nursing home) and I have The Old Goat. As previously mentioned I am a bit restless and casting about for a different pasture. WitchWoman is not adverse to radical relocation but is more inclined to keep her tap root firmly planted here and explore by travel. I would not mind working for a few more years. She is done with it.

Without plumbing the depths of this issue for fear of boring you, suffice it to say, we are engaged in a think and strategy weekend. We are just trying to make some sense out of the circumstances in which we find ourselves. Both of us recognize how fortunate we are to be where we are in our lives and to have the pleasure of each other’s company. That is the foundation upon which we will decide what sort of structure to build.