A Life Half-Full

"Lordy, lordy, look who's forty."

I'm the oldest of 4. All girls. So I was the first to turn forty. Inventory of my life at 40: recently divorced, single mother of a teenage daughter, lost my house and everything I owned in the divorce, living with my dad in a small one bedroom apartment on the second floor of his house. No job. No man.

Oh, are you rolling your eyes at the "no man" part? Like that should be the least of my worries? Well, failing at my marriage and basically my life meant I was back home in Antioch, my small mid-west hometown where all (and I mean ALL) of my relatives lived. They do not mind their own business if you know what I mean. My grandmother took me on as her special project. She was convinced that she could get me "ship shape" to be a decent wife to someone and that it "wasn't too late" for me. She set about teaching me the "right things" to cook and the "right way" to do laundry. Next on her agenda was to spread the word that I was single. She and my sister created a dating profile for me on Match.com.

Yes, I went on some dates. And yes, I met some nice men. But remember--according to my grandmother getting married was the most important thing I could do to "get my life back together."

About a year later, I was dating a nice man when my grandmother passed away. (I did end up marrying him about 2 years later, but she was not there to bask in that joyful day.) At her funeral, no fewer than 10 little old ladies made a point to find me and ask me if I "ever found a man." I guess I had been entered into the old-lady matchmaker network. One particular sweet grandmother-type told me that she had a grandson who "thinks he is gay" but that she would like to set me up with him anyway...he just hadn't met the right woman yet. The day of her funeral was a very long day.