Saturday, September 26, 2009

Notes from a 43-year-old woman

Excerpts from Sheri's journal, 1991

Jan. 14 — I’m hoping to play volleyball today. I need to go, to see where this emerging feeling for a new man might take me. It is unlikely, but it’s there. He appears to be considerably younger than I, a sportswriter….What attracts me is his intellect and his kindness. He seems secure in himself. And it appears, although I admit I may be misreading simple friendliness, that he is interested.

Feb. 10 — Things moved into a new phase with Mike Downs. We now, after a flurry of message-sending last Monday night, have a date to go hiking on some nice weekend…And it leaves me a little afraid, feeling awkward….Does this guy know how old I am? And how old is he?

Feb. 11 — When I walked into volleyball, Mike was distant, chatting away with R.N. (young and cute). I think he is just friendly to everyone.

Feb. 19 — He is 26. Isn’t that too young? How come I find a soul mate and he’s only 26? I have nephews older than he.

Feb. 26 — I must tell Mike how old I am.

Feb. 27 — Mike called asking if I’d like to go out for pizza tonight. I said yes, of course. And then he fumbled for words and said, “This is just a friendship, right?”…. Put away the fantasies, Sheri. Your bed is still empty. Maybe you thought there was room in it for a 26-year-old. You were wrong.

March 4 — Michael called (He’s Michael now). Asked if I’d like to see “Dances with Wolves” tonight. And have dinner beforehand. If this is a friendship, it’s OK with me.

March 12 — Alternating between giddiness and terror. This is uncharted territory, and I am doing dead reckoning. I knew when he came here bearing a bouquet of iris and a carton of ice cream that this would be the night to dispel this “only friends” myth. He thought I was 36… then decided I was 40 or 41. I told him the truth, then, after he told me it didn’t matter…. I am embarking on a great adventure.

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