Advice? Take it or Leave it!

NOTE TO READERS:

This was a contest entry which failed to place. But the essay meant so much to me that it will appear in the January 2009 issue of MONTANA WOMAN MAGAZINE.

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One day I woke up, looked into the bathroom mirror and told myself I did not want to be fat; forty; alone; and living with cats. Soon after I said “yes” to a marriage proposal from a man I had dated only seven months. You may think it was naïve; you may think it was romantic; you may think (like my dad) what a huge mistake.

I had been married twice before, and left each husband. The first was my “first” if you know what I mean. He was handsome; owned a car; played football; loved his mom; and slapped me silly if I lost a sock in the dryer. The second husband was the father of my only child. He wanted me to stay young forever; he the father figure; me the little girl looking for someone to save her.

I was a single parent for eight years when I met Jim. We worked for the same company; however, he was a night manager in a local supermarket, and I was upper management with a company car and expense account. His store bookkeeper asked us to go out with her and her significant other. Although I was too old to double date, I said sure. I loved the Red Lobster Restaurant, and that was my main reason for going. I didn’t need a man in my life! I had just purchased my own home; selected a new car; gifted my daughter with a pony; and looked darn good in a pair of tight jeans. I was secure; sassy; successful; and happily single.

Let’s cut to the chase. Jim was a good man, with a sensitive side and big heart. He loved football; snow skiing; fishing; playing pool; and big dogs. I hated most sports which included football/baseball/basketball; I was an excellent water skier; didn’t have the patience to fish; loved to swim in a pool; and despised any dog larger than a terrier. We had nothing in common. He fell in love first; I fell in love much later.

There was a big wedding with a punch waterfall, and tall cake with fresh flowers. His mother sent us to Maui on a ten-day honeymoon, and thought of me as a friend and not so much a daughter-in-law. Jim was, and is today, a romantic who wears his heart on his sleeve. Let’s move forward 10 years. He invites me to travel to Whitefish, Montana where he and his buddies enjoy hunting and fishing twice a year. Jim loves the area and wants to transfer from the Southern Californian market he works at, to a sister store in Montana. I humor him (just like during the engagement scenario) and tag along.

I promptly fall in love with NW Montana; say goodbye to family; friends; neighbors and colleagues. I sell our lovely CA home; move the pets; tow the car and boat to our new surroundings. Now keep in mind, I had lived 49 years in sunny California where I enjoyed palm trees; warm weather during the holidays; long commutes and lots of stress plus drama. It was all I had known.

We landed in Whitefish on January 12, 2001. It was cold; it was white; it was lonely; it was far away from my parents; daughter; and three grandchildren. I had no job; no friends; no outlet. I started to pick at my food; I would sleep late into the morning, never wanting to look out the bedroom window. I felt myself slip into a deep depression. I thought about taking a bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol; slipping into a pretty nightgown (no more flannel for me); and downing a bottle of cheap champagne purchased at the Conoco station. I wanted an easy way out.

Somehow; someway; my maternal Grandmother heard my SOS and gave me a call at home. She sitting at her dining room table in Nebraska… and I standing in my kitchen decorated with bear and deer. As I listened to her soft voice, I bit my lip and held back the tears. Her advice to me was this: “Don’t give up on Montana, and don’t give up on Jim. He’s a gem of a man.”

It’s been almost nine years since that early morning phone call, and my life is happy and my marriage strong. I stuck it out Grandma, and want to thank you for putting some sense into me. It was the best advice I ever had and followed.