Little Black Dress, Spandex, and the Doctor

When moving on with life, there are risks. Shutting yourself off from the world is easy for awhile, but the time comes one must get up and face it. It's a scary prospect, one must muster the courage within to put life ahead of fear. 

Coming to terms with the fear of going on with your life isn't easy. Being the person I am, I knew one thing...I simply had to get into life once again. So, how did I purpose to do this? 

Well, meeting someone to have dinner with seemed a good start. Out of curiosity, I signed up for a mature over 50 dating site. One of the first men I met was a doctor whom we will call Jeff.

Jeff had lost his wife three years ago due to a pulmonary embolism. While he raised his daughter, and tried to cope with the loss of his wife, he encountered many of the same issues. He had an empathetic perspective that most did not have. Most of us have lost a family member, and it is none less painful, however losing the spouse is much like losing half of yourself. 

Of course Jeff's favorite place was an upscale establishment on the Plaza. While I thought about attire, knowing full well of the dress code, the only frock I had appropriate was the little black dress. I had ordered it some months ago, and put it in the closet. Knowing full well it was a size smaller than what I wore at the time. I needed motivation to continue my weight loss, and hey it worked. However, one must be forewarned of the cut of the little black dress with cap sleeves. I put it on, and quickly realized the front view awesome, side view not so much. 

I had a busy Saturday planned, morning appointments and my nails were a mess. I also realized I was in need of some quality foundations.....in other words, an ass crusher as I so affectionately call it. I have a very small frame, and can weight 96 lbs and still have the bulbous appendage. 
My most endearing physical feature. I say this with the utmost sarcasm. Photo shoot for future blogs, and book at two and meeting Jeff on the Plaza by four. What I opted for was basically a spandex bodysuit to squeeze what I had to a minimum. It worked, the little black dress looked lovely. Nails done in a french manicure, little black dress, black bag, shoes, and one awkward middle aged woman. 

As I rushed to get ready, one of the cups on the bra portion of the adorned undergarment was amiss. As I drove down interstate 35, I happened to look down. What I saw horrified me....OMG, one side normal, and one side beyond lopsided. What happened next  was straight out of "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles..." As I stuck my hand in through the cap sleeve, in a moment I realized it was stuck...there I was cruising at 70 mph in traffic. As I panicked to pull my hand out of the spandex adornment, I nearly hit the side rail....my life flashed before my eyes. 

Jeff was a huge guy, sweet with a strong handshake. He had arrived early and had ordered pomegranate tea. He talked me into the smoked salmon, which was heavenly. We had good conversation, and tremendous laughs. We shared our heartache, final moments with our significant other, and the trials of raising children without backup. I think three hours went by in the blink of an eye. One thing we vowed if we were to see each other again, was to not cry on each other's shoulder. We both needed to seek closure for our own sanity. 

Moving on is not for the faint of heart, but embracing life takes risks and courage. Each day I find a little bit of that courage.