Adventure of my Life

As I got ready for my first date with Bruce, I was so excited I couldn’t even get my lipstick on straight or figure out what to wear. Okay, my white slacks with the pink top always looks good.

I had no idea how this first date would totally change my life.

I’d met him at a divorce recovery workshop. I’d been divorced and recovered long ago. The voice in my head told me to go. “But I’m not recovering from divorce,” I argued. “Just go,” it kept saying. “There will be lots of single men there, I guarantee.”

I ached to have a man in my life. I didn’t want to be alone any longer. I was ready to marry again.

I got dressed and went out, again and again. (This was before internet dating.) To singles dances, mixers, business conferences, bars.

Yes, I met men. Time and time again, I’d date a man for the first time, only to quickly recognize all his faults. Either he didn’t have a job, was hopelessly self-centered, rude to the waitress, had an IQ in the single digits, etc., etc. If you’re single, you know what I’m talking about here.

There was no one I wanted for the one and only man in my life. I became more and more discouraged. Felt more and more lonely and hopeless about ever finding a good, caring man.

My life was at a boring point. My only child had married and moved across the country. I liked my job as a psychotherapist, liked it a lot. It’s rewarding to help people create a better life for themselves. But I really needed to create a better life for myself. Surely there had to be more to life.

There was a big void in my life. I was lonely. I wanted someone in my life. Someone I cared about and who cared about me.

Awkwardly, I stood by the cookies on that first night at the divorce recovery workshop. The cookies were just inside the door and everyone headed there first. I’d read in some advice for the lovelorn: “If you’re shy about meeting people, station yourself as a greeter at the door.” Sounded like good advice, so there I was.

Coming towards me in the surge of people was a man, a handsome man. And he was looking right at me! I smiled: “Don’t eat those chocolate cookies; they really taste terrible,” I said. He smiled, grabbed a vanilla cookie, and walked off.

We sat on separate sides of the room. After the meeting, he walked out. I couldn’t wait until next week to run into him again. My heart fell when he wasn’t there. The following few weeks, I had other commitments and I didn’t go.

But then finally, he was there, and I was there, and we talked. He invited me out the following Saturday.

I hopped into his beat-up Dodge van, surprised at what was there. Guitar music like you’d hear on a tropical beach, a tiny hula dancer swayed under a plastic palm tree on the dashboard; an umbrella-like they serve in exotic drinks. “What’s up with this guy?” I wondered.

“I can’t get involved with anyone right now,” he explained. “My dream is to be a cruiser – to live on a boat and sail around the world. Most people think it’s crazy.”

“So far, I really like this guy,” I thought. “I’ll date him for now and not plan any future with him.”

Bruce and I saw each other often, usually in one of the many boat-related places in Southern California. He was obsessed with the idea of being a cruiser, talked much about it. I got seasick just looking at a boat. The idea of getting on one turned my stomach.

He respected my complete lack of interest. He understood that no woman would share his dream. Her home, her job, her kids, were too important. He knew no woman would go with him; he’d go alone.

I cared more and more about him. He had a twinkle in his eye and a warm smile. His dream was to get a boat and sail around the world. My dream was to find a caring man with a twinkle in his eye and a warm smile.

I began to love him; I wanted him in my life forever. I didn’t want the boat part. But they were a package deal. How could this ever work?

Gradually, I began to think maybe his plans weren’t so crazy. I was ready to stop working. My daughter wasn’t around. So maybe, just maybe.

At the age of 53, I married the man of my dreams. We bought a sailboat and called her Crossroads. I continued working as Bruce prepared Crossroads to take off.

Though I went through the motions, because I loved Bruce, I was scared of taking off. I didn’t want to.

One night, getting out of bed, I collapsed on the floor. “Something serious is wrong with me, really serious,” I said.

Bruce threw me over his shoulder and took me to the ER where I was hospitalized with a stroke.

“Your working days are over,” said my neurologist.

“You can’t go on a boat,” said my cardiologist.

“I’ll give up our plans,” said Bruce. He was ready to give up his dream, to live with me on land.

I’d been ambivalent. I hadn’t wanted to live on a boat. I was going along with the plan only because I wanted to be with Bruce. Now I had an out.

Being told I couldn’t do this ended my ambivalence. I decided I did want to live on Crossroads, and I wanted her to leave the dock.

My recovery continued as we moved onto Crossroads and took off for Mexico.

For 15 happy years, we lived and traveled on Crossroads. I’m so glad I overcame my fears to have the adventure of my life.