The Back Story & FU 2012
“The Dead Are For The Living”
That’s what my late husband said after his father passed away in 1990. Twenty-two years later (that’s 2012 if ya can’t math!) at the age of 49 my husband passed away. Six weeks after that my cousin, who was like my older sister & one of the reasons I moved to California, passed away. She was just 50. That death occurred two days after the Celebration of Life for my late husband. Six weeks after that a long time client of mine, also in her 50’s, passed away. At that point I searched for a grief counselor. I found a perfect match for me & she was also an art therapist. I began to color, draw mandalas & collage (insert “everything I need to know I learned in Kindergarten” here) my way to aid in making the pain dissipate. Three months later the facility where my grief counselor worked declared Chapter 11…no more grief counselor. Who the fuck looses their grief counselor! She also decided to ditch that area of counseling completely! Then…wait for it…a long time friend, elementary school crush & later boyfriend (albeit only for about a summer somewhere in the 1980’s) passed away. Then life literally went blank, or even more blank than it already was. That friend’s death was the day after the Celebration for what would have been my husband’s 50th birthday. Oh yeah, I did have a Fuck You 2012 party.
Of course the longer one lives the more death one will experience. And, if one witnesses death, you can’t unsee death. That shit stays embedded in your hard drive. So that is why on Halloween 2013 I decided to once again:
LIVE BEFORE YOU DIE.
Because life can really suck at times so when fun is taunting you, grab it!
You Can’t be a Widow Virgin Forever!
My Halloween story of
Popping My Widow Cherry!
With someone about 20 years my junior!
Part I
Halloween 2013 & I’m in NYC. A week before I arrived, I was looking out at the Pacific Ocean & it all of a sudden felt like, yeah, it’s time. And what better city to choose to loose my widow virginity than my home town, NYC! Manhattan is where I discovered ME in my late teens & twenties while at NYU. So, yes, when I return there, I am indeed coming to retrieve part of my soul, my essence. It also is the only place I ever lived as a single woman. When my husband passed one of the most striking realizations was that I had never been single in Cali. Even though Cali is my home now & my NYC license has long been revoked, NYC is where I needed to be to pop my widow cherry.
I’m Here To Reclaim My Soul
Halloween was on a Thursday that year & I began my spooky dive bar journey on Chambers St. My plan was to bar crawl it up to the Village Parade. My costume? I’m a cougar, hear me roar! My intentions were set!
It’s 4:30p.m. & the bar is packed. I saddle up to the bar, surrounded by cute young men. “Waddya havin?” asks the young beautiful bar woman. “Shot of Kettle” I reply. “It’s happy hour, two for one.” “Great! I’ll take four” I answer. It’s on.
With two boys to my left, two to my right, (cue Stealers Wheel song here) we commence in some bar room banter.
Cute boy: “Where ya from?”
Me: “California.”
Cute boy: “What brings you here?”
Me: “I’m here to reclaim my soul.”
Oh, it’s really on! Unlike some west coast boys who might run away with that retort, this line got the attention of those east coast boys! We all grabbed our shot glasses… I think it’s gonna be a long, long night!