Every day I learn something new. Today I learned Jane Pauley is the wife of Doonesbury cartoonist Garry Trudeau. Honestly I did not know this. Not that it would be unusual for me not to know. I don’t pay much attention to such things. It’s not that I do not care (or crave) such information but ever since Mama caught me looking inside Auntie Imogen Hood’s bedroom at the age of six I have had an aversion to snooping. Somehow this transferred to even the personal information about private and public people. So even someone in the news like Jane Pauley and Garry Trudeau is not the exception which has, in the past, made for awkward water cooler conversations at the office. I mean I sit/stand there looking interested but not knowing a darn thing about what the other person is saying leaving me as a not so great conversationalist.
Now, I just learned a second thing for today thanks to my best-friend and room-mate Steve. I diverse here but it is odd to me that ‘other friends to neighbors’ do not or can not understand the relationship we share. Love? Of course we love each other. I love Steve nearly as much as I love(d) my three brothers, now deceased and a bit more than I love my girlfriends but not as much as I loved my husband Bobby. I’ll never love any other man that much. That love is reserved in a very private and personal place in my heart not that I have not loved after Bobby (I called him Teddy for his last name). I am capable of fully and completely loving a man but a woman’s heart is a deep well with many caverns holding many experiences in her life. Bobby lives in one of those caverns. The largest one, actually. Steve has one as well but I have compartmentalized the cavern belonging to my best friend. It’s like ‘his cavern’ is a big file cabinet with three folders inside, (1) best-friend (2) brother and (3) man. All the folders touch but never overspill into each other. I can do this at my age because of my life’s experience with love. Admittedly, it is weird sometimes. And, honestly, sometimes I don’t do as well as I am telling you I do! (3) seeps out occasionally and I get embarrassed but I reel it back in and behave myself. I understand Steve is not interested in me and I accept it and as difficult as it is at times I manage to keep the friendship alive and healthy because not to do so would mean a great loss. A loss that would devastate me altogether. My last boyfriend (yes, even gals my age have them) seemed a wee bit threatened by my best-friend and he needed to be, actually. He needed to be because if he’d given me a choice, the choice to make, I would have chosen my best-friend. I did not realize this until one day I was asked a question: “what if you never could talk to (boyfriend) or (best-friend) again. It hit me that I’d regret not speaking to the boyfriend again but I’d live. But, not speaking to the best-friend was not an option! Simply, not an option. I’d walk through fire for Steve! And this is the simple truth.
So today I learned two things. One Jane Pauley is married to Trudeau (by the way, who is totally awesome) and that the posting on the television screen on sports events always lists the home team last and this is the field/city in which the teams are playing. Now I know! Steven surely educates me on the manly things in life. My education never ends.