Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Resurrecting Frank

Yesterday I was talking with my new friend and office mate, Gaye. She has taken to reading my blog, and was checking in with me about some of my recently shared thoughts, and primarily about the idea of dating.

"Are you ready?"

Good question to ask. Of course I thought about this, right? If I'm going to put it out there to the universe, and to the guys of Match.com, I should be able to sufficiently answer this. So, when I turned back to Gaye, I had a clear and confident answer, correct? Wrong.

I'm not really sure.

As I was later driving home from work, I began my usual free association of thoughts and feelings. What came to mind was that it was the Day of the Dead. And, in my bizarre, lost in the realm of death, mindset, I asked myself this question. Can the dead be revived? No, I wasn't thinking about Michael. I was thinking about me.

In the last few years I have seen most of my hopes and dreams get killed off. One right after another. To this day, I most often feel like the walking dead. Yes, I am working hard to re-enter the land of the living, but it's not something I can just will myself into. How can I return to feeling that human connection to those not so closely affected by death? How do I enter into new relationships without bringing along a third wheel ghost?

It all has me thinking that I need to find myself a local Dr. Frankenstein to raise me from the dead. I need some new life brought into this dead body and soul of mine. A good place to start would be my damaged and broken heart. Some how my heart needs to be stitched back together so that it will be able to function when that next Mr. Right comes along. With my heart back in working order my blood will be able to start moving throughout my body a little better, and hopefully reanimate my sense of touch, which has gone dormant during this year long winter of grief. And, lets be frank, if the blood is not pumping, then neither will I when the opportunity presents itself. I know that I still have sexual desires, but for quite some time my desires have been more about self soothing than about sharing an experience with another person.

And, as Dr. Frankenstein found with his own creature, with new life there are always expectations, or hope. Hope for what can be. To be ready I need to embrace hope. this in itself is quite scary. Do I trust the universe once again with my heart? Trusting it the last time around brought me exactly what I wanted, yet just as quickly took it away.

I would have to say that right now, I have little hope. But, there is someone who had lots of hope for my future, who did envision me with a new love. Michael. He reminded me all the time that he wanted, and expected, me to find someone else to love. He spoke of my next relationship as a given, which in a small way opened the door for such hope.

Can I be raised from the dead?

Am I ready?

Frankly, I don't really know. Yet, I am willing to allow someone, perhaps me, to flip that switch, and to send forth that surge of energy that will get me started.

Franken me.


  1. sometimes I feel like the only way to retain? deepen? find? my connection with matt is to be loved again. To be laughing and at home - to be my actual self, and that is who he loves. I miss being loved. Yes, other people love me, but as we know, it is not the same. To be known by your love is different. Anyway - in my odd way, I think hmmm.... if I were loved again, I would be more like My Self, and then I would probably feel more connected to matt. As it stands, I am broken and crabby, and trying to keep my heart open is like willing concrete not to set. Love is what is missing, love is what heals. Now if someone told me that, even passively suggested that, several months ago, I would have verbally slapped them and cut them out of my life. No way saying I am ready or interested, just that it is an interesting wonder.

    And, I love the frankenstein image you chose. Somehow very stylish.

  2. Dan,
    I'm not sure if most widowed people experience this, but I didn't consciously know that I was ready until I met someone. Then I knew that I was.
    Maybe it just sneaks up on us, when we least expect it. Which is probably better than thinking, "OK, I'm ready now." .... and then waiting and waiting to meet someone.
    I'm not sure .... I've only been "snuck up on" (yes, I think I just made up my own word). Jim did it first. And it was great.
    For a very long time.
    So .... maybe you won't know it .... until you know it.
    And yes, I tend to ramble.