I Am Alive
Written on July 14, 2010 by
How does the dating game go today? It is a little hard to maintain that 29 plus image, when your adult son would like to meet the guy you want to go out with before you leave with him. He just wants to have a mental picture, (if not a snap shot -the electronic genius), of who his mom has left with, in case I do not return in a timely fashion. The rest of the family (group moment) will probably be taking out the garbage (you know that stuff they pile in the kitchen can that they have never thrown into the big black can out front) to get his license plate number, make and model of the vehicle he is driving –probably the vin number too. All to go on that missing person report, just in case the guy kidnaps me. Imagine the questionable thoughts the gentleman will have regarding my age when he meets the little girl called, my granddaughter.
It was his warm and big smile that first caught my eye. The strange sound was the pitter-patter of my heartbeat, such excitement. When he spoke to me, oh my gosh, the blood pressure accelerated and the face became flush. (I can assure you it is not too much caffeine nor a hot-flash.) Flirting –was not sure I was recognizing it at first; took a few tries before I caught on. So, I appeared a bit flaky. Obviously I did not start the flirting, but it is like riding a bike, and I managed to make a comeback. Crap, it has been decades since I played the game. Years, since I have even opted to play. Are the rules still the same, how does one show interest without being too over zealous?
My son has performed a background check while the daughter-in-law to be took care of the criminal background check. All is satisfactory and after collaborating, thus the words of approval from the family to move forward came. May I? Can I is more the question, they think this is easy, how does one move at all? The son tells me I move too slow, especially at my age life is short. If I move too fast, he will also have a coronary. But according to the expert, after four weeks I should have phone numbers, be dating and “hanging”, never mind the getting to know you and little conversations.
With the help of a more mature, Cyrano de Bergerac, after four weeks, I have a phone number. Hey, five weeks we are “texting”. Conversation is great and a future date looks promising. Life’s excitement feels like being in Disney World’s Typhoon Lagoon and venturing out into the Wave Pool -slowly going deeper and deeper versus the Storm Slides. Hey at least it is not the Castaway Creek or Ketchakiddee Creek. It is all moving just fine.