Longing for the Good Old Days

There must be something wrong with me. Or I might be an anti-feminist. I feel zero excitement about our first female leader (Vice President elect). It isn’t because she’s a Democrat, and I was raised a Republican. I ask myself if Sarah Palin (or some other Republican female) had made it, would I feel differently, and the answer is no. Just a solid, unequivocal NO.

I never aspired to have a career or work outside my home. I was raised by an insecure, shy 1940’s-1950’s housewife who never wanted to work outside the home. My mother was there every day when I got up and there every day when I got home from school. She baked. She cleaned. She made a happy home warm and welcoming. She had a hot dinner on the table when Dad got home every night. She and Dad were married 41 years when he died. I always wanted what she had.

My reality was far different from hers. I’ve held full time employment since I was 19. I fell in love and married at 30. I’ve been married almost 31 years. I worked through two pregnancies and went back to work when my sons were both just six weeks old. Was I happy to go? No, I cried because I had to. I’ve been working for forty-two freaking LONG years.

I always blamed the feminist women for wanting to work for spoiling my dream of just being home. Burning their bras, protesting and carrying on. Intellectually, I knew that wasn’t true. I knew inflation and an increased cost of living necessitated my having to work full-time. And, no, we don’t live lavishly. We have a 1,000 square foot house built in the 1960’s. We drive used cars. We have debt just like most people.

I always felt that I was born at the wrong time. A job is just a paycheck for me. Never anything more. Do I like what I do? Most days. Would I walk away from it if I could? In a heartbeat.

I’m not a feminist. I have no daughters, and I’m glad. I would have made a terrible mother of daughter(s). I just don’t have it in me.

So was I devastated when RBG died? No. Am I excited that Harris is VP? No.

Sorry. I’m just not.

Image courtesy of Pinterest

True Love

Weird clouds in the sky on June 27 on one of our rare nights out for a ride/date. My Ford Edge with the bass clef sticker in the window.

I was uploading old photos a few nights later. We’ve changed a bit in 32 years together.

Here’s one of our first dates. An old photo booth at Seabreeze Amusement park in 1988.

Three years later at our niece’s wedding.

His Ford Escort GT and my Pontiac Firebird at our old apartment. I miss that car.

Christmas 1993, the first one in our house.

Must be true love.

I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather grow old with.