Some years back, Gloria found an article which pointed out that married couples tend to take each other for granted, and spend, on average, only fifteen minutes per week actually talking with each other. That was not the case with Gloria and I. While I was out teaching we still needed to spend at least forty-five minutes *per day* talking to each other on the phone. While we were together at home we talked constantly. We talked about what she read in the paper. We talked about my research and presentations online. We had to record the news and TV shows that we watched, because we had to pause them and discuss aspects of what we were being shown and told. For the same reason we didn't watch movies in the theatres, but waited until they came out on DVD. Gloria was the most interesting person that I knew to talk to. What she lacked in any way in terms of formal education, she more than made up for in a boundless curiosity, completely unrestricted by what she was *supposed* to be interested in. Time and again, topics that I was supposed to know, and had been authoritatively teaching about for years, got overturned and extended by Gloria asking that one extra question in an unexpected direction.
Somebody in one of the "grief accounts" on Instagram posted sort of a free verse poem talking about ... well, because it's a poem, it's not really precise as to what they're talking about. But it seems to be either wishing to, or imagining, meeting the author's mother, when she was still young. The implication of the latter part of the poem seems to be that it would have been nice to have known her before some of the spark of life was beaten out of her.
This, of course, reminded me of Gloria. Gloria very frequently said (and repeated very shortly before she died) that she wished that I had had a younger wife. I never really pursued this. I mean, that statement could have been taken a number of ways.
It could have meant that Gloria wanted a younger wife for me. That she wished I had married someone younger than her; that she felt that she was too old for me. Perhaps, in some way, that I had missed out on not having a younger wife.
It might also have meant that Gloria wished that she had met and married me when she was younger. As I say, I didn't really pursue what she specifically meant by that statement.
I didn't feel that I lost out on anything by marrying Gloria. I certainly got an awful lot of benefits out of being married to Gloria: benefits that I wouldn't have had, had I married somebody else.
And if she meant that she wished she had married me first when she was younger, well, as her mother frequently said, "We wondered why Gloria had to wait so long to get married again. We just didn't realize that we had to wait for Rob to grow up."
But the poem got me thinking about this idea again. Would I have wanted--Do I want--Would it have been better for me to have somehow adjusted our timelines and to have married Gloria when Gloria was younger? Certainly Gloria had a hard time with a number of the men in her life. Her father loved her, no doubt, but, he was definitely of the opinion that men were more important and women were secondary. This came out in all kinds of ways, and I'm sure that it didn't do Gloria's self-confidence and self-esteem any good.
However, I'm not sure how badly damaged Gloria was by it. From her position as "just a secretary," she did manage to learn and effectively practice the management responsibilities which come with being the secretary to the boss.
Gloria's first husband was very unkind to Gloria at different times. And once again, probably did her self-confidence and self-esteem no particular favours.
Would I have been kinder to Gloria than he was? Well, I certainly hope so. But that isn't necessarily guaranteed. Certainly, a lot that I now know about commitment, loyalty, family, life, and love I learned from Gloria, and from seeing how Gloria was damaged by some of her experiences with other men in her life. Whether I would have learned what I have, had I not had the second hand example through Gloria, I don't know.
I certainly tried to build Gloria's confidence up while we were married. Would I have trying to do that if I hadn't seen how badly her confidence had been damaged by other people? Would Gloria have been a more cheerful person; a happier person; if she had married me first? I don't know. Gloria was definitely capable of enjoying life, and expressing that enjoyment, as the story about the Japanese restaurant always reminds me.
So, do I wish that I had married Gloria when Gloria was younger? Well, I mean, "if wishes were horses beggars would ride" type of idea. Does it matter? I would have liked to have had children with Gloria, but that wasn't a possibility. Would I have liked to have married Gloria when she was younger? I don't know that I would have valued Gloria as much as I did, had I somehow met her when I was older and she was younger. Is there any point to even wondering about it?
It's not a possibility. And so, in a sense, why wonder about it? What might have been? Yes, I wish, my life was better. I wish I was richer. I wish I was kinder. I wish I was taller, more handsome, more knowledgeable. I'm not, and the world is the way that it is. We have to live in the world as it is. We could wish all kinds of things. I wish I could fly. Not in an aeroplane, just, you know, fly like the birds. (With or without wings? I don't know.) I wish I could fly in space. But what's the point of wishing?
I'm sure that the author of this poem had some impulse, some idea of knowing and helping the mother, knowing the mother better, possibly preventing the mother from losing a spark of life. But, let's face it, these things aren't possible. Would we have done any better? If we had not known what we know because we went through the second hand experience of what they went through? I really don't know what the point of even asking the question is.
There's no point in saying that I wish Glory hadn't died. If Gloria hadn't died, when she did die, she would have had a very painful and uncomfortable life for however long she lived after she did, in fact, die. I can't wish that pain and discomfort on her just so that I would be less lonely. And what is the point of thinking about it?
Introduction and ToC: https://fibrecookery.blogspot.com/2023/10/mgg-introduction.html
Next: TBA
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