Sometime in the mid-90s, I recall preparing myself a traditional Christmas Dinner, a very ecumenical Jew I am. It was 2-Rib prime roast, Yorkshire Pudding, fresh peas, carrots and Spotted Dick for desert.
Divorced, with children gone and not dating anyone "special," at the time, I decided I wanted to spend the evening alone, though I'd been invited to a couple of friends' homes for dinner.
I recalled that time a few days ago. This year, I'd intended to drive, with Rex, to Arizona to spend Thanksgiving with my sister and her husband. Upon reflection, something I've been doing quite a bit lately, it came to me that I just didn't want to make the trip. Perhaps it was a matter of a long drive, but I don't think so.
There was some concern that my sister would be a tad upset, but I explained to her that I was going
through a somewhat pensive period, one of self-examination and that I thought it would be "good" for me to spend the holidays alone. She was disappointed, but understood and I was grateful for that she wasn't "angry."
Though I don't see them much, I am grateful for my family; my sister, my boys and grandkids. They are always there for me and I love them more, as I wrote once in a poem, "…hearts can tell."
However, I am growing to believe that I am at least modestly destined to live the rest of my life alone (with Rex, of course). I am, indeed, an imperfect fellow seeking a woman who is "perfect" for me.
I'm not the "tall, dark and handsome" fellow who loves to dance, spend a lot of dough on upscale dinners and travel a lot. But I am an intelligent, witty and engaging guy. If I could find a woman who enjoys jazz, blues, folk music, watching old movies, talking rationally about politics and current events, is not especially religious, who's attractive and has a grand sense of humor tinged with a bit of cynicism, that'd be great. It's highly unlikely though.
So, Rex and I will prepare a small turkey with cornbread stuffing, a vegetable or two, salad and a pumpkin pie (from scratch, I'm a helluva baker) and spend Thanksgiving together. We'll watch the Macy's Parade, or whatever parade's on, perhaps a football game, though I tend to fall asleep during them, as does he, and talk together about the "old days," "cabbages and kings" and how important it is for us to have a wonderful, loving family despite the distance.
On Christmas, we'll do the same thing, though with my "traditional" English dinner.
As T.S. Eliot wrote, "I grow old … I grow old …I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled."
Rex and I will be just fine.