LexiMe - My journey of faith

I believe that everything happens for a reason.   People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they’re right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.   We should all start to live before we get too old.   Fear is stupid.   So are regrets.

I think it is this time of year when many of us have thoughts that go back to our pasts. I cannot say why. A song, certain smells, anything that twigs a memory, and again, this time of year, when dormancy starts to take over for the season. Why is it when old man winter starts his journey into our lives, our thoughts, from years ago, good or bad, makes us realize that it is what has made us who we are.

I find on these days when I am having these thoughts I tend to play mello music which I believe further provokes my own thoughts. Not because I am going back to some times when things were not good. There were many good times. I think it is because of all my friends, myself included, this is the time of year when we have all lost the ones we loved, cared for, worked with. I listen to others share their thoughts with me. I try to comfort them without it being a constant. It isn’t because I get tired of them talking about something that can never be righted. It is because we have to pick ourselves up by the seat of our britches and keep on keeping on. I have known more loss than I tell anyone. I have dealt with it and moved on. They seem to have a harder time with theirs. The lyrics, “I’ve got to make new memories or the old ones are going to kill me” comes to mind when I am talking to the ones I try to help. It is true. And that is just what I am going to do, make new memories. I am hopeful someone will want to make them with me, yet I have not found him.

I listen to all kinds of music. If I have a need to get something done, I play music with a fast beat. I love the old songs. I cannot tell you any of the new music on the radio. I play music that makes love to my soul or fits my mood at that moment. Nighttime, before bed, I play some soul-soothing music. No matter what tunes I have on, the lyrics make me think, of someone I have always missed. Either or, I sleep. I never think of anything from my past while drifting off. I think of a certain someone whom I hope to love one day. I fall asleep with a smile and the promise of wonderful dreams.

I enjoy my talks with my girlfriends. They seem to be looking for the same as myself. We are similar yet different. One is obese and wants to just enjoy life without being so fat, as she puts it. She has dropped 100 pounds yet has so much more to lose. She gets together with her girlfriends for a trip away from reality however her issues always follow. The other is recently divorced from a man who has cheated on her and abused his body with drugs to the point of getting so paranoid that he has lost his job and tore his house apart thinking everyone is out to get him, spying on him. The others have been married for years yet they are missing something in their life.

Me. I honestly do not know how to describe myself. I was always called a looker. Men wanted to be with me. Some women hated me because of how I looked. I could not help how I looked. It was not like I drew attention to myself. I was totally opposite, not wanting to be noticed. I lived in a loveless marriage. I felt I was slowly fading away. I did not have any real friends because they could not understand why I stayed with him. They could not understand that I just gave up. I gave up ever knowing real love, real happiness with someone. They could not understand how I could be always happy smiling or laughing. They did not know I was trying not to think of the emptiness I felt. They always said how everyone liked me. I could not see why. And I was not an easy lay like a lot of women I knew. IF they had actually taken the time to realize that I was just like them in some ways. I worked, took care of my own home. I grew tired. I had times when I just wanted a place to get away from things. And I was shy. I never asked for help.

I had worked with men all my working life. I saw and heard things I never wanted to see or hear. It is what it is. It made me stronger. It made me start to stand up for myself. In the end, I kept to myself, still lonely and longing for someone who just might want to love me. Not a fling. Real honest love. I wanted I guess what people would call the fairy tale. I wanted honesty, loyalty, trust. I wanted to know I was someone’s someone that I could feel safe with. To find that home.

There are times I go down to where I was born. I sit and stare at the house and remember how it used to be built. Yes, there are bad memories but it is what has made me who I am today. I do not visit often. I am no crybaby but when visiting my dad’s grave, the tears run down my face. He was the only stability in my life. I miss him so much though it has been many decades since he has been gone. I can actually sit at my dad’s grave and see the old homestead. I can see the school that my dad built, where I danced the nights away as a child, where I went to for the first few grades, where I taught. I can see the church where I went to Sunday school. I see the store my dad helped build. I wanted to swing on the swing set my dad set up for us kids.

I walked the graveyard and remembered the people I lost. Bruce and other students who thought that drinking was the thing to do. How I got ridiculed for not joining them. I would always walk home with my head hanging down and the tears would run. However, I am standing, they are not. I walk over to where my grandfather and uncles are buried. My dad is off by himself as is one of my uncles. My mother is buried on another end where my foster grandmother is, next to her foster grandmother. I often wondered why they were not buried in Canada, where they were from. My brother-in-law is there near my dad. And now my sister. As I walk the graveyard I can sense my ancestors walking behind me. Why am I here I ask myself.

I stop over at the cemetery on Oak Hill Road. My paternal grandmother and great grandmother are there along with another relative I never knew. It is a very tiny cemetery. Then I make a final stop at the cemetery on Smart Road. That is where my other brother in law is buried along with his son who hung himself at 32, and my good friend Dawn who was so very young. A lot of other relatives are there from back in my past. My final jaunt is to the cemetery in Belfast where a young lady is buried. Her sister and I were best friends growing up. We used to tease her so much. She died in her early teens. Her sister who used to be my best friend, Denise, now lives in Louisiana, who joined a cult. And there is Brenda who I worked with, who hung herself at a young age. I wonder why. What could they not deal with. What made Denise join a cult. I think it was then when no matter what I had endured, I felt blessed.

I wondered why I am going down memory lane. When something is bothering me, I tend to go within myself. In time, the answers come. I only have to give up trying to control the answers coming quicker. Is it that I am older now? I still think about people I went to school with while here. I do not have any guilt for not joining in what they were doing. Over half of my graduating class that I grew up with, are dead. Drink, drugs, illness. I also wonder if it was the schools we went to, where they had asbestos in them. So many questions with no answers.

I then traveled to where I used to live before going to the UK. Whoever owns it now has allowed everything to overgrow. I used to mow a half acre to keep it looking nice. I had all mountain ash growing along my street to my driveway. I still do not know what the trees grew at the opening of the stream that ran through my upper property. I called them my Hawaiian trees. The upper frog pond was still there but so badly overgrown. You could not see my old house because of the overgrowth and I was not about to drive up the long driveway. I suppose the new owners would have let me but when down that way, I just remembered. I also believed that by going back as I did, the answers came quicker and I felt at peace.

My final stop before heading home was at the city park. I sat on the grass staring out at the ocean. It was as if I was back in time. I had swam in the ocean when the pool was full of kids. I finally got to sit in the little building where we used to eat our lunches. I sat on a table, feet in the chair, looking around. I closed my eyes and took in the smell of the salt air, remembering. I looked to see if Bobby’s and my initials were still carved into one of the posts. I walked on the beach a little then realized how late it was and headed home.

A few days later, my ladies realized they had not heard from me so they called me. It still takes me a while to deal with 3 way calls. I told them where I had gone. They asked how I felt afterwards and told them I was just fine. I missed my dad. He was one I could talk to about anything so as it was, I explained I always went down memory lane when I went there. They asked me if it gave me any clarity. It gave me my memories I told them. Memories without the actions of those times. It also gave me some laughable moments of how I was the only Lenfest girl that had not been had by every boy in Swanville. We all laughed about that. They asked me if there wasn’t any man there that I would have wanted to be with. I told them that I was the only girl around there that hadn’t slept with the boys, so no, I was really not interested in any of them. I was like a conquest to them and who would win, which none of them did yet they would start rumors that we had been together. We all laughed then I heard their laughter fade away. My marriage dissolving was not entirely their fault. They could not measure up to what I thought I would have had with him. Till death do us part was not a part of their plan.

I asked them if they had found anyone they were interested in. They told me what they thought. Now that we were older, most of the good men were already married. Or gay. We all agreed that we wanted loyalty, trust, and honesty. They wanted not to have to struggle or have to support a man financially. I did not mind struggling. They had specifics of how their man would look and how he would be built. Tall dark and handsome for them. I did not care what my man would look like as long as he was real. A good sense of humor was important to me and someone who didn’t care if he got dirty helping me around my gardens, someone who could take over the lead if I grew tired. But most importantly I wanted to know I was truly loved and not cheated on. I wanted to feel safe with him.

I have always been the odd one to my female friends and to some of the men I have known. Some women can sleep with anyone that comes along. I cannot. I am sexual but I do not wave it like a friggen flag. I keep it to myself. I do not fall for some mans sweet words. And I have been known to throw a punch to any man who thinks he can have his way with me. When I say no I mean no. So then I am a bitch, cold as ice, virgin Mary, I have been called many names but I am proud that I am not a whore. And I may die as a virgin but I stick to what I believe in. I am not someone who cheats. I don’t want a relationship where I cannot be myself or be with someone I cannot trust with anything I have. It is like I have given up on everything. I can still do what I want but I do not do it with any real happiness. I have been alone for a long time. I would like someone to share my life but perhaps it is not for me. I have so much love to give and I will admit that I miss holding someones hand, hugging and just being happy with someone but I really have a problem with trust. I do not give myself to just anyone. Only one man I would but I have yet to find him. I don’t need someone up my ass 24/7 but it sure would be nice to come home to someone or to share some time with them.

So here I am now. I am a country girl living in the city. Talking with my girlfriends, none of them seem to know what is next in their lives or where they want to go. I think I have given up finding that “home” I always looked for. Love must not be in the cards for me and I can live with that. I do know that I want to live a peaceful, happy life. I want to work in my veggie garden, my flowers and to hear birds in my trees. Yet I do not know what to tell my lady friends…..of what I am going to do with the rest of my life. Probably just exist but what I really want is to have someone who wants to spend time with me.

Funny how I can do so much for others yet come home to an empty house. My ladies and I are alike in so many ways except that I go deeper. They say they love that about me. I cannot say whether that is a blessing or a curse. I think it is lonely all by myself. It is what it is.

You are my ocean

I am the sea glass.

Loving you has smoothed

But not broken me

By your tides,

I want my hard edges to soften.

I want to ride your waves

And go with the flow.

I want to catch a wave

And let it carry me

To where I belong.

I want to be picked up

And held gently by

You who delights in my

Well earned patina and

Appreciates the changes I went

Through to achieve that beauty.

I want to enjoy the journey

And always remember that

When I give my ocean something

Breakable,  it will turn it into

Something beautiful.

If I never had met you, I would not have liked you.

If I had not liked you, I would not have loved you.

If I did not love you, I would not miss you.

But I did, I do, and I will.

I didn’t need him to tell me ‘You’re beautiful’ every time he saw me, but he always did.

I didn’t need him to take his hand and lovingly brush my hair away from my cheek giving me chills, but he did.

I didn’t need him to put his hand on the small of my back as we walked together or just standing next to each other, but he always did.

I didn’t need him to kiss me so fervently, making me feel breathless, but he did. Every time he first saw me.

I didn’t need him to slip his hand below the small of my back to the dimple right above my panty, but he held his hand there whenever we were out to dinner.

I didn’t need him to be my armor, but he placed himself there naturally.

I didn’t need him to be my safe place, my home, but he was whenever I was with him or put my head on his chest.

I didn’t need him to calm my storms, but he was the only one that could.

He didn’t need to drive to meet me when I was filled with emotional chaos and sorrowful, but he did- just to make me feel better and ease me.

He didn’t need to look at me so longingly and also lovingly, holding my hand tight in his grip, always making me feel loved, cherished, and protected….but he did. He always did. And I love him with everything I have in me

I won’t tell you how love is supposed to be because truth is….love is many things, least of all predictable. 

It is feeling things we should not and not feeling things we should. 

It is unexplainable at times, leaving us at a loss for words.

It involves the heart and insists on feeling what it wants when it wants.  

As much as we try to control our own hearts, they will control us instead. 

Because love is many things.  It is confusing and complicated and messy and beautiful. 

But mostly, love is breathtaking in all its wildly undeniable, unshaken glory.

I will love you, through quiet days, through struggles, through distance, through sharp words, and tears. I will love you.”

Ti amo tesoro mio

No matter who I was with at the time, if someone asked me if he was the love of my life I had to say, “No, that it was you.” Ohhhh, the looks I got. I was not going to lie. Everyone knew. Everyone but you.

Girlfriends would get together and read pop quizzes from magazines. Who was your first love? It was you. Who would you like to be in love with? It was you. Who would you want to love you? It was you. Who do you love? It was you. It had always been you. And you did not even know. How could you? We had not as yet met.

Have you told him how you feel? No. Why they would ask. I would tell them I was not good enough for you. They did not believe me but that is how I felt. Why would I embarrass myself by telling you how I felt? I had never met you. What could I offer you? I was not pretty or smart. But nonetheless, it was you.

I ran into an old friend a few years ago in a store. We grabbed a coffee and caught up with each other. She asked me if I had met my home. I smiled. I did not answer right away while watching her expression. She could not believe it was still you. I told her we had not connected yet. Still you have not found him she asked. No I replied. He must be with someone and who was I. But still, it was you.

Even my husband, when with a bunch of people and they ask if he is my one true love, I do not have to reply. My husband makes a face and says, No, it’s the person she has not met yet”. Every time my phone rang, he wondered if it was you. All those years. Everyone knew. Everyone knew But you.

How can I hold so much love for someone I have yet to meet. Why do I keep the best of me locked away, waiting for the perfect man. Will we just meet and know without a doubt that we were meant to be together? Will we be able to communicate without words? Will we somehow stumble into each other whether in person or in another way? What if I live the rest of my life looking for my home just to die never finding him, that man that I keep all of the best of me hidden, just for him. Sadly, everyone knew. Everyone knew but you.

I have always been drawn to water.  A beach, a stream, a lake, a pond, a waterfall.  It did not dawn on me until I was older that every time I was near water, I was calm.  I felt peaceful. 

There is something sensual about rain.  It has a meditative effect on me.  I have had some of the best sex when it has been raining.  The warmth of skin to skin, of the covers, the hypnotic sound of the rain takes me to the point where I am totally relaxed.  It is as if my body is so relaxed that I could have dozed off instead of having slow rhythmic sex.  No rushing.  Just slow kissing, tasting, touching, exploring.  Bringing both of us to the point of orgasm.   I have never had such heightened sex.  Not wanting to get out of bed afterward,  we spent the afternoon making love into the evening. 

I have found that my sign, cancer, is a water sign.  I would love to walk on the beach to find sea glass.  When I take a bath in my jetted tub, it is just as relaxing.  Sometimes in the shower, I let the water run down over me longer than I should.  Again, it is for the relaxation and the sensuality of it.  

I honestly believe that how I feel after sleeping with the rain falling is the best sleep I have had.  It has been so long since I have slept next to another body.  I know my body craves the touch of you.  Not always sexually, just feeling your warm body next to mine as we sleep.   And if sex is as good as in my dream, wow, just wow.  

I choose to love you in silence…For in silence I find no rejection,
I choose to love you in loneliness…For in loneliness no one owns you but me,
I choose to adore you from a distance…For distance will shield me from pain,
I choose to kiss you in the wind…For the wind is gentler than my lips,
I choose to hold you in my dreams…For in my dreams, you have no end.

Why is it that people do not like to talk about sex after the age of 60 or older? People would prefer to pretend that older couples don’t have sex, don’t want sex, and don’t even think about sex, but, for those of us who are over 60, we know that’s not the truth. Older couples think about sex, want sex, and need sex. Whether you’re having sex or not, the idea of sex is a part of every relationship, no matter what age. For couples in their 60’s and beyond, the desire for sex doesn’t disappear. Men and women of all ages want and need, to experience a physical expression of intimacy, closeness, and love. The need for physical and emotional intimacy is central to what makes us human. It is literally hardwired into our DNA. Intimacy is just as important for older couples as it is for younger couples. But intimacy can take many forms.

While the desire for some form of physical connection is there, older couples have to accept and adjust to the reality that their bodies have changed with age. Senior sex is different from sex in your 20’s and 30’s. The way we experience sex has to reflect how our bodies work or don’t work, As a culture, we seem to be obsessed with how frequently people are having sex. Everybody seems to be fascinated by how often older couples have sex. My question is why aren’t older couples having sex more often. I think the barrier to older people having sex is not their physical ability but their inability to talk about sex.
Couples of all ages have trouble talking about sex. For older couples, it can be especially hard to have an open discussion with their partner about what they can do, can’t do, what they worry about, desire, and fear.

Talking about older couple sex is much easier said than done. We’ve all grown up with so many taboos around our bodies and sex that it can be very hard to communicate. It’s sad, but many older couples have stopped having sex, even though both partners want it. The barrier to sex isn’t physical, it’s that one or both partners are too embarrassed to admit to their partner that things have changed, and they can’t perform the way they used to. Instead of talking about it, they’ll just say “I don’t want to” or “I can’t”. A deeper and more intimate conversation is too scary.

When you’re younger, sex is all about intercourse. As we age, traditional intercourse may no longer be an option. Many post-menopausal women experience painful intercourse that can’t be solved, no matter how much lube they use. And many older men have trouble maintaining an erection (even with medication). It’s the same thing for orgasms. When you’re younger, good sex means everybody has an orgasm. That may not be the case for older men and women. Many older men and women have trouble reaching orgasm. So while sex for older couples is different, that doesn’t mean it can’t be good sex. I believe that sex after 60 is better than sex in your 20’s and that is because of the physical intimacy leading up to sexual intercourse. Older couples can have an active, meaningful, and satisfying sex life. What it requires is for you to let go of trying to control everything and go with your feelings.

Let’s talk about sexual intimacy which I think is most important. So, what does sex mean if intercourse can’t happen and orgasms aren’t a sure thing? This is something that every older couple must address openly, honestly, and lovingly. Touch and intimacy are at the core of sex for seniors. And that’s how it should be because touch and intimacy should be at the core of sex for everyone. Not just seniors. Some couples may move from defining sex as sexual intercourse to sexual intimacy. Sexual intimacy is physical intimacy that may, or may not, include intercourse or orgasms. Holding, stroking, touching, kissing, and loving, are at the core of sexual closeness and sexual intimacy. These are the elements that the relationship can’t live without. This closeness actually generates a response that changes brain chemistry and makes us feel happier and more content.

Physical intimacy is vital to our individual health and the health of a relationship. It is a meaningful, intimate, and deeply satisfying experience whether either partner has an orgasm or not. We all love orgasms, but as human beings, we crave closeness. Adapting our sex life to be in sync with our older bodies requires courage. The courage to change and the courage to be open, honest, and vulnerable with our partner. We have to open our minds and get away from the idea that if it’s not traditional intercourse then it’s not really sex. This evolution of sexuality is accepting that it’s different and wonderful. It’s true that we may feel sadness or grief over the loss of what our sex lives used to be like. I find it is a more meaningful sex. The physical intimacy a couple has before actually having intercourse is something that everyone should feel. It will be different, but equally important, vibrant, and most satisfying.