I’ve been out of sync with people my age for most of my life.
When I was 4 years old my parents divorced. I was the only child in my school whose parents had divorced. By first grade I was getting myself ready for school, making my own lunch, doing laundry and taking responsibility for homework on my own. While my peers enjoyed stable, two parent homes with stay at home mothers, I had to grow up fast to be the man of the house.
When I was 7, we moved to Pittsburgh, where I knew nobody. My mother worked all the time. My older sister tortured and bullied me. My Catholic grade school was a joyless, desolate prison. My job as a 3rd grader was to get myself to school, make good grades, handle all my schoolwork, cook dinner, go grocery shopping, walk the dog, clean the house and take care of any of my needs. I signed up for baseball and cub scouts but had to drop out of both because I couldn’t come up with the money for uniforms, activities and supplies. My classmates all came from stable 2 parent homes. I remember thinking how lucky they were that their mothers made them dinner, packed their school lunches and bought them stuff.
For the rest of my pre-teen and teenage years, I was mostly on my own. My mother paid the rent, gave us money for food and bought us school clothes one a year. Everything else was basically on me and my sister to provide for ourselves. I was no longer the only kid I knew with divorced parents, although most of my friends still came from stable 2 parent families.
When I went to college, this continued. I researched schools, made decisions, applied for financial aid, solicited scholarships and worked part-time without any assistance. It was my problem. Although I still lived in my mother’s home, I counted on her to provide shelter and food only – plus the use of her car to go out at night whenever I could get it. By this time, I stopped comparing myself to my peers.
When I was 21, I met my wife. Many people thought our relationship was doomed from the start.
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- I was 21. She was 40.
- I was poor white trash, a college drop-out and ex-Catholic. She was a well educated rich kid from an upper class Jewish family.
- I had only dated girls my age or younger. She was an ex-hippie with 2 kids who had already been married once.
It wasn’t “supposed” to work. But it did. We fell in love and stayed together for the next 29 years.
Ellen called me an old soul. I called her my dream girl. I brought stability, comfort, predictability and financial security to our relationship. She brought excitement, flexibility, beauty and possibility.
We were a perfect, out-of-sync match.
Early in our relationship, my wife was hesitant to get married. She would say,
“Someday I’ll be old. You will still be young. It’s not fair to you.”
I would laugh. I was gaga for her. I told her my plan was to die at 81 when she was 100 and that nobody would care about our ages then.
For the most part, I paid no attention to our age gap. Until her health began declining when she was in her late fifties, I barely noticed any difference.
Then as her health worsened, we adjusted. I supported us financially and she was able to retire. During rough health periods, I became her caretaker. During better times we enjoyed eating out, movies, reading, walking the dogs, fixing up our homes and spending time together.
When I was 50, my wife died.
Despite her numerous health battles, I thought we would have many more years together.
I wasn’t counting on being a 50 year old widower. Alone. No children. No wife. No job. A handful of friends who all lived far away.
In the past 3 years, since she died, I’ve been able to fully absorb the impact of our “Spring-Winter” marriage.
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- Being older, she benefitted from my energy, career progression, work and health as I cared for her.
- Being younger (and naive), I benefitted from her wisdom and experience.
- I lived as if I was at least a generation older than my peers. At 21, I suddenly had a family. A wife, two step kids and responsibility. Our friends were her friends. They were 20 years older than me -established, successful and middle-aged.
- By the time my fellow Gen-Xrs were getting married and having babies, my step kids were in high school and college.
- I never dated a woman between the ages of 19-39. I dated teenagers and then I dated my wife. I skipped two entire generations of women.
- We were best friends and companions. Our social circle gradually shrank to just us.
I still am out of sync today, nearly 3 years later.
My Gen-X peers are in a chapter of life that I’ve already completed. They are married, divorced or dating. They are raising families, moving up the corporate ladder, buying bigger houses, keeping up with the Joneses and looking toward helping their kids move on to high school and college.
The lap swimmers at my pool are 10-30 years older than me. Most are married, retired and have grandchildren.
The widows and widowers on my street are all 20-30 years older than me. They are in the sedentary wind-down chapters of their lives that I’m not ready for yet.
I don’t mind being out of sync. I have never known any other way to live.