My First Date as a Widow

I sat in the parking lot, and questioned my sanity. I had driven all the way from Idaho to Utah, to meet a guy in person, that I had met online. (What was I thinking? When, exactly, had I lost my mind?) I sat there in the dark, frozen like a fossil, in front of our date location: The Museum of Ancient Life, at Thanksgiving Point.

The thought occurred to me, that I could just quickly drive away, and never look back. I could dodge the date, the drama, and the dinosaurs. It would have been so easy to press on the gas pedal, and escape the daunting date adventure, that was surely fraught with unknown emotional peril. This new and undiscovered world of dating, existed right outside of my car, just a few steps away.

All I had to do was open the door.

But I was petrified.

As I sat there, the pressure of doubtful thoughts compounded in my mind. Layers of fear began to appear, and my tough outer crust was failing to protect my soft inner core. The dried-up bones of my embedded fears were unearthed by violent thought-tremors, and the winds of change were blowing in new and unexpected anxieties. I had arrived at a pivotal point in my widowhood evolution.

I stood on the edge of an event, that could change the fate of my world. (I know, I know, it was just a date, right? I should tone down the dramatics. Ha! Not a chance.)

As I dug deeper into the layers of fear, I found decomposing skeletons in my emotional closet. The fears I had been suppressing about this mysterious moment, all came quaking to the surface, with fault-line force.

My thoughts went something like this:

What if the guy was a total creep? What if the whole thing ended up to be a huge disaster? What if he was nothing like his charming online personality and pictures? What if I was not what he was expecting? What if I acted like a total goober? What if he was a total goober? What if he turns around and runs away? What if I forgot how to talk? What if I passed out and fainted? What if he was extremely wonderful, but he did not think I was wonderful? What if a meteor hit the Museum of Ancient History and the world came to an end?   

What if?

"What if" is such a stupid question.

I made the choice to press the brake pedal on my ridiculous thoughts, and I chose to push the gas pedal on more reasonable action.

It was time to get out of the car, and out of my (oh-so-comfy) comfort zone.

I had arrived at our date location about fifteen minutes early. I thought that would give me enough time to brace myself, before jumping into the emotional inferno that was waiting for me. (If you want to know real fear, try dating again as a widow, and you will stare fear right in the face!) 

Before throwing myself out of the car, and into the dating volcano, I talked to God, and I fought off the tempting thoughts that came spewing at me, from the dark caverns in my mind. Then I decided to turn on the radio, to try and calm my rattled nerves. The Utah radio station was playing different music than my normal Idaho station. A really rowdy song came on called, "I Walk Alone." It was a depressing song about being lonely, but the lyrics were enough to make me want to get out of the car and face my fears.

I had the chance to not walk alone for a few hours, and I was going to take that chance!

I took one last deep breath, and I removed the keys from the ignition.

A wave of excitement came over me, as I left the safety of my van.

I was embarking on an adventure!

I was going on my very first date, as a widow! I was going on a date -- with someone other than Charles -- for the first time in 18 years! What the...?! (Insert high-pitched Velociraptor shrieking noise here.)

I walked with fake-confidence across the parking lot, and towards the Museum of Ancient Life. There were Christmas lights still twinkling on the trees, that created a festive and magical glow. A family was standing at the front entrance of the building, and they were trying to take a picture together. I stopped really quick, and helped them.

And I continued forward towards my destination.

My heart trembled with seismic activity, as I entered the building about five minutes before our scheduled meeting time. I found a good place to wait close to the entrance. I was probably standing there for about one minute, when I felt the need to turn around.

So I turned around.

And there he was.

He walked through the doors, and without hesitation, I walked towards him.

It was the man -- the widower -- that I had been emailing for over a month. All of the typed words, and heartfelt comments, collided from fantasy to reality, in one brisk Hallmark movie moment.

He looked just like his pictures! I thought maybe I would not recognize him out of a crowd, but I knew him when I saw him. We walked towards each other, and into a brief "hello" hug. It was a fast non-romantic hug; but the contact created an energy that flew like lightning through my body. Something that had been buried deep inside of me was excavated, and I was shocked by the intensity of the feeling.

I had wondered if I would ever feel that way again.

The answer was clear.

My heart was not dead.

My capacity to feel "those kind of feelings" was not extinct.

Hooray!

I was also his first date, as a widower. We were venturing out into this new dating world, together. That added an element of comfort, knowing we were in the same post-death-dating boat. We were on equal and uncertain dating ground. That reality made it all seem a little less intimidating, sort of.

There was an excitement created by being together, but along with the excitement, there was also a nervous energy. It is hard to feel totally comfortable, without really knowing someone. We had exchanged quite a few emails, and learned a lot about each other through our long-distance communication. I also studied his wife's blog, and he studied mine, too. So we had quite a bit of information about each other (years, and years, of recorded life history) before we met. (I am only willing to meet and date guys I know are real and legit. It is a HUGE bonus if their wife had a blog.)

We had originally chosen to meet at Thanksgiving Point, because it was a public place where we could just walk around and talk. It proved to be a pretty good idea. We looked at some of the dinosaur exhibits along the way, but I was much more interested in learning about his personal history. We would walk around, and then we would find quiet places to sit and chat.

One thing that was nice about dating a widower, was that we could weave our spouses in-and-out of the conversation, without it feeling strange. I personally felt like getting to know his wife, was a very intimate way of getting to know him. I talked about Charles freely too, and it was just very natural throughout our conversation to talk about the people we still loved. It was nice to be able to discuss such things, in our dating dialogue.

Talking with him was easy, but in my nervousness, I felt like I was acting a little too fake and giggly. I am normally a pretty mellow type of person, but I did not feel mellow. I felt like a hormonal teenager, trapped in a 37 year old woman's body. (Have you seen the movie Freaky Friday? Yeah, it was like that.) I wasn't trying to be fake, I was just trying too hard to be normal. Being on a date as a widow does not feel normal, it feels fake. So, I guess I was being fake-normal? Or normal-fake?

At one point on our date, I looked down, and noticed his shoes. He was wearing the same shoes that Charles wore, when we started dating. I am not a sign-seeker, but it definitely gave me pause. Why was he wearing the same shoes as Charles? Not to mention he was also the same height, too. Was I inadvertently looking to find Charles again? I dunno. But I did find my date attractive, so that was something! He had sparkly eyes, and I liked that. He also smiled and laughed freely, and that made being with him very pleasant. He had a positive energy, and he was an all around charming person. I enjoyed being in his company. And I am so grateful, I lucked out on my very first date!

After walking and talking through the museum until it closed, we decided to go and get some ice-cream. As we entered the ice-cream shop, we ran into a few people that knew him from church. That was a little awkward for him, I am sure. I know it would have been awkward for me. We shared an ice-cream, and we continued our conversation, until everything began to close for the night, so we had to leave. Despite the weird excitement level of our date, I was really quite comfortable with him, and willing to talk with him about pretty much anything. I did not want to stop talking with him.

I could tell, at the very least, I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to get to know him better.

I was reminded that, even though Charles and I had a romantic relationship, it was originally based on a deep friendship. We got to know each other without all the smooching and physical stuff first. I believe taking the time to be friends, is what made all the difference in our relationship. We really got to know each other well, before delving into kissing and romance. Our chemistry was so strong, that we simply had to be careful from the very beginning. Anyway, that is another story. But it is a story that still matters, even now, and I keep it in my pocket as a reminder, always.

I digress... back to the date.

The night was still relatively young, but everything in the area was closing down. I did not want to drive away in his car somewhere, and leave my van in the parking lot. So, we decided to sit in his car, and continue our conversation.

This was not a good idea.

As soon as I sat down in his car, I lost my ability to talk. (Remember how that was on my list of fears? Yeah, it actually happened!) It was like the closing of the car door, also closed-off my brain. I had flashbacks of being a teenager, and I immediately felt uncomfortable. Without knowing my date well enough to know his intentions, or inclinations, I just sort of panicked, unexpectedly. I started rambling words, that likely made no sense at all. I just wanted to get out of the car, so I could reclaim my brain, that seemed to have fallen out somewhere on the other side of the car door.

My date was very perceptive, and he was a gentleman about the whole thing. He sensed the awkwardness, and he said he was ready to call it night. We quickly exited his car. He walked me to my van, he gave me another quick non-romantic hug, and he drove off. It was kind of an abrupt ending to a nice evening, but the date had to end somehow. Everything else had been so good, there had to be something weird about it. I made it weird, and then he made it weird, and so we made it weird together.

I did learn a valuable lesson though.

Do not sit in a parked car on a date, even as an adult!

At least not on a first date.

I got back in my van, and sat there for a minute in shock, wondering what I had just gone through. Even though I had no idea where things would go from that point, I still felt this surge of something that charged through my body.

Was that courage I felt?

Had I really just survived the adventure, of my very first date as a widow?

I drove towards my brother's house. I decided to take some time to process what had just occurred. (I knew there would be an onslaught of questions from my family, once I walked through the front door.) I found a nearby LDS Church parking lot (there is one on every corner in Utah), and I just sat there with music on, while trying to figure out my feelings. I sat there and cried a little, while I tried to reconcile my new feelings that occurred on my date, and my feelings that I will always have for Charles.

You see, trying to date again -- while still being madly in love with someone else -- is not for the faint of heart. Dating again as a widow is an adventure, but it is a journey that I wish I did not have to be on. I mean, I want to date, but I wish I did not have to date, because I was happily married, and so... it is all so complicated.

The emotional conflict was real, and I really felt it.

But I also felt something really good, and new, and exciting! It was worth the effort -- and the conflict -- to embark on something so adventurous, and unknown. I had the courage to get out of my comfort zone, and face the flames of fear, despite my desire to flee.

And you know what? The experience changed me.

By facing my fear, I discovered what courage feels like.

Courage feels like being scared to death, while running directly towards the fire.

And that is what I did, on my first date, as a widow.