Old Maid’s Puzzle

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Text of piece:

1. a derogatory term for a woman regarded as too old for marriage.

2. a card game. The point is to match up cards. Try not to end up with the odd penalty card.

3. a kernel of popcorn that didn’t pop when heated. The ones left behind, cherries unpopped.

4. a person who will probably die alone.

5. a sexually aloof person showing little sexual interest.

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My son is afraid for me. “Aren’t you tired of always being alone?” Is this how my son sees me?

My mom doesn’t want her daughters to follow in her footsteps. This forced solitude has left her wary.

Now that my child has expressed concern over my marital state, I can see how, in the past, I may have blundered. You see, I used to believe that to be complete, one must be part of an intricate puzzle. Baloney, I say!

I plan to call my mom to apologize for all of the times I tried to tell her she should try finding herself a man when really, what she needed most was to find out what she most wanted out of life. ☹

We were brought up thinking that to be single is to suffer a less-than-ideal existence when it is actually very liberating when you have not been part of a “match made in Heaven” for any length of time.

As quoted in the Huffington Post in 2011, Diane Keaton said, “I don’t think that because I’m not married it’s made my life any less.” She added, “That old maid myth is garbage.” I feel inclined to believe her. Sheryl Crow told Good Housekeeping, “Hey, I would love to get married—I’m still old-fashioned. But I don’t think marriage is the be-all-and-end-all.”

I will have to make a point of celebrating my elevated status. I will ask my mom and the other single women I know to join in our triumph as independent women. Singledom is not always by choice, but the fact that we are healthy and free and alive must be worth some sort of observance.

I ask you to hold me to this pledge of sobriety, should I forget or slip off the wagon and fall for a man yet again. It’s happened once or twice before. To be quite frank, I have a tendency to fall for the sort of men who bring me down to their level. This, more than anything, is what keeps me up at night.

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I am happier than I’ve ever hoped. Even when the clouds obliterate the sun, brightness sparkles at daybreak.

I can’t say this has always been the case. This state of utter bliss is new. It started when I began plans to divorce. “If one day I accidentally run into someone who can intensify the palette of my life, I might consider him, but I am done settling.” This is what I told my son when he mentioned that I was alone. “Alone does not mean lonely,” I added. “And sometimes ‘together’ is as alone as you will ever feel. I hope you never understand this.”

These days there is nothing on my plate unless I am the one putting it there. I do as I please and am pleased with whatever I end up doing. If I feel like eating kimchi and fried eggs for breakfast, nobody is going to suggest I make them pancakes instead. Well, that is unless my son comes over for breakfast. That makes my heart sing. So much waits to be discovered. Every day is a day I couldn’t miss. That is what I also hope for you, Son.

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