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 Love, marriage, and the single life
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Riverside Park. 4:00 PM. Photo: JH. |
August 5, 2009. Yesterday was a hot summer day in New York.
In the New York Times Science section there was a piece about health and marriage. Married people, according to some survey, were healthier than single people. Married people, it continued, in their 50s and 60s who lost a spouse through death or divorce were even unhealthier. Oy. It’s the stress, evidently, that is the fly in the ointment (Ex-Love Potion Number 9).
I have had two significant relationships in my now not so short life. One was a regular standard marriage and the other was a living companion, a longtime companion (although not that long). Both relationships lasted approximately the same amount of time (9 years) and both ended unhappily. At least for me. The marriage also ended unhappily for my wife. The other relationship I don’t know how it ended for him, and actually I don’t care. The ending of both relationships were very difficult emotionally. At least for me. Relationships at the break show you who you are. A lot of what you are shown is not that attractive. So it is true that relationships that end can make you sick but also give you the opportunity to do some repairs to shine up the old self.
Other than those two aforementioned relationships, I’ve lived solo for much of my adult life. I never wished, during these times – solo – that I had someone else to live with. There are moments when I have a sense of loneliness, and moments when I think how nice it would be to share certain experiences with another. But only occasional moments; otherwise, it can be quite luxurious. Because frankly, when you live alone, you can have it your way and there is no argument about whether or not you’re selfish (you are). There is no one to complain about your finances, no one to moan about having to cook the dinner, no one to tell you you talk too much, no one to tell you you don’t know everything, no one to grow impatient with all your hang-ups and pity-parties.
In my case, however, I have dogs. So I’m not really that alone. I came here from California with three of them riding along with me, and now, all these years later through a process of mortal elimination and resurgence, I have three again. Three distinct personalities. All showering me with their individual brands of love anytime I want. All showered with all that love that I seem to think I have in me, and touched, moved, sometimes cracked up by the joy these three (one is an egomaniac) bring me moment to moment.
I know, not everybody feels that way about a dog. Or a cat. They think it’s a lot of work. And sometimes it is, but hey…. Too bad for them. These little ones have much to teach and the rewards are inestimable. I adopt, incidentally.
I did go to Michael’s yesterday for lunch with my friend the ever-beautiful Emilia Saint-Amand. Emilia and I have known each other since the time I had a schmatte business up in a little red barn in Pound Ridge, New York in the early 70s. She was a young divorcee with two little boys, struggling thanks to the ex-, and she’d come in for any bargains that might work for her. All these years later Emilia is still looking for a bargain although she looks toward Oscar de la Renta which is an entirely different kind of bargain from the stuff I was pushing.
Emilia must have said something before I arrived at the restaurant because afterwards they brought me a nectarine tart in ice cream (much fancier than it sounds) with an accompanying glass of juice right-down-the-middle half-red and half-orange. On a plate with a birthday candle. The red juice, incidentally was watermelon juice. So good. The orange I never figured out. Then Millington, the GM, Michael, the proprietor and Billy the waiter, and Emilia, sang happy birthday to me. It was embarrassing and I liked it.
Last night, to add to this scintillating account of life in New York on a hot summer’s day in August, I went to Swifty’s for dinner. Does it seem like I have no imagination? I am a creature of (compulsive) habit. Swifty’s was very busy. Gale Hayman and Dr. Richard Bockman was there with His Nibs, Mr. Kenny Jay Lane. If you have never met Kenny, then by all means read our NYSD HOUSE interview with the man. His excessively successful costume jewelry business may be a fortune in fakes, but Kenny is the real thing. No peers there.
Also, closeby, Alexandra Schlesinger with Marife Hernandez and Joel Bell, Martha Kramer and Neal Fox were dining two tables away with Mai Hallingby. Coincidentally many years ago, Marife was married to Paul Hallingby who divorced her to marry Mai. Later, Paul, who had five wives in his half century of adulthood, divorced Mai and married Jo, now his widow If she had been there we would have had a trifecta. Both ex-wives, incidentally, are in very good health, both since remarried (Mai’s a widow now), and they don’t fit into the above mentioned survey in yesterday’s New York Times.
I have another friend right now who is going through what is going to be an ugly divorce. I don’t know how she’s feeling health-wise although her state of being is delicate, all things considered. Knowing the situation I can see that what is “inflicting” is the behavior of the spouse who wants out of the marriage. I’ve seen this many many times – the spouse who wants out also inflicts pain, through cruelty. This behavior always confounds me, although I know it doesn’t confound everybody. It also makes people sick. Maybe that’s what that Times survey is measuring. Maybe we should pay more attention to the dogs and cats and learn some lessons in love. Not kidding. |
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