In 2001, my wife and I relocated from our hometown of Pittsburgh to South Florida to be closer to the kids (who lived with their father in Miami), to enjoy the weather, and to fulfill a lifelong dream of mine. I was thrilled and looked forward to all of the experiences and adventures I imagined came with building a life in a new city.
My wife, having lived in South Florida before when she was married to her ex, was thrilled to be able to see the kids often, but was less enamored with the “Florida dream.”
Over the next few years, we got established and bought a house. I chased career opportunities while my wife spent her time gardening, seeing the kids and taking care of our home. I had social connections at the gym and work.
My wife, on the other hand, only connected with the kids. She talked to her best friend from Pittsburgh every day on the phone. She talked to her sister and brother by phone frequently. She’d exchange greetings with our neighbors but seemed disinterested in establishing any sort of local friendships.
I remember feeling bad for her. I encouraged her to make friends. Occasionally, I’d setup get togethers with couples I knew in the hopes my wife might find a friend.
Then, one night we got a call. Her best friend had died suddenly and unexpectedly.
Over the next 17 years, my wife and I relocated 4 more times as I changed jobs. We moved ack and forth from Florida to Pittsburgh to Florida to Raleigh and finally back to Florida.
During those years, my wife made one friend in Raleigh. They went to the same monthly book club, shared a love of gardening and saw each other at least once or twice a month. When that friend moved to Arizona to be closer to her grandchildren and a few months later we relocated back to Florida, that friendship faded away to a few phone calls a year.
I felt bad for my wife. I had social contact through the gym and work. I met people while walking the dog. I had enjoyed online connections with niche groups of people interested in minimalism, frugality and early retirement.
My wife, on the other hand, had only me, her kids, her siblings and people like her hairdresser, manicurist and doctor.
As for close relationships, it was me and her family.
I think I understand now that I’m over 55 and retired.
We were enough for her.
She loved people and had many friends when she was a child, a teen, a young adult, a parent of young kids and later as a working empty-nester.
After she retired and we began our relocation saga, she didn’t look for more friends.
It was as if she couldn’t be bothered to make the effort of getting to know someone new and building friendships.
Now I get it.
I feel that way myself today.
I’ve got a fulfilling life that is spent mostly alone. If my wife was still alive and with me it would nearly perfect. She’s not, and still, it is pretty good.
Every time I’ve recognized an opportunity to make a closer connection since she passed away, I chose not to.
At first, I was consumed by grief, in mourning and just doing my best to make it through each day.
Later, the pandemic and focusing on building a new life consumed all of my time and attention.
And now, I’m not interested enough to make the investment in time, energy and emotional commitment to be someone’s friend (or even more-so, their boyfriend).
I have fond memories of the close friendships and romantic relationships I once had. I know how wonderful these can be.
It’s just that I’d rather spend my days working out, writing, hanging with my dogs, learning things, puttering around and being by myself. I wish my wife was still alive and with me. I miss her a lot still – nearly every single day.
I have fond memories of close knit connections with friends, neighbors and coworkers from years past.
But those chapters of my life are closed – perhaps never to be revisited except in my reminiscences.
I can accept that. In fact, I don’t mind it at all.
For years I’ve said I’m open to the possibility of friendship/love and have kept my eyes open for opportunities.
I’m not sure that is true. I’ve avoided these opportunities more often than not.
This is OK. It was for my wife and has been for me too.