Mom’s on Match
“Carole, can you come into my office please?”
My boss leaned over the upstairs railing of his building’s second floor landing, calling down to me as I chatted with a group of fellow employees. It always made them laugh when he called me by my first name. To everyone else in the building I was, “Company Mom.” My business card said so.
The boss also happened to be KC, my youngest son.
I literally held a job to caretake a building full of thirty-somethings. It was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. I adored all of them.
But, I had coffee bars to stock, events to plan and snacks to dispense to executive suites. I had mentally misplaced KC’s request, until I saw him walk by the kitchen, coffee mug in hand (the one that read, “I don’t work here”).
Pausing, this time it was a more direct, “Hey, Mom, come to my office.”
Since using “Mom” was akin to using a child’s formal first and middle names, I understood that this request carried some weight.
“What’s up? Am I in trouble?” The door clicked closed behind me.
Role reversal was in full bloom. I took a seat.
My Boss-baby rambled on for a few confusing minutes, not really clarifying what he wanted to tell me, stuttering a bit with his intent.
Finally, after stumbling and bumbling with “Ums, You see, and what I”m trying to say,” he blurted out, “Mom, I think you should try online dating.”
Blood pressure skyrocketing, I beelined for the exit. “Good talk, Kace.”
“No, Mom, wait.”
“The Boss” proceeded to unpack all the reasons I needed to try this rite of passage for newly-singled-seniors, ending with, “Mom, you’re just so wonderful that you deserve to have someone who finds that out, too.”
What a pitch.
I mean, how could I resist?
What I didn’t know is that I was already online dating, thanks to his quick work with writing and editing, a keyboard and a credit card. KC had signed me up … lock, stock and barrel. I was all in, ready or not.
After I recovered from that admission, and had slumped back in my chair, he brightened, and continued with more good news.
“And, you’re quite a hot number, Carole.”
Back to business with my first name.
What even I understood was that the dating algorithm cleverly reported heightened activity for every new subscriber. The hook was swallowed and set.
The site wanted you to believe that bachelors stood three rows thick, elbowing each other to move up in the queue, edging closer to the throne upon which you sat. The picture painted was of an unlimited supply of silver-haired, 6’2” widowers, eager to gamble on love simply because of the photo you posted from your last Hawaiian vacation. Never mind that it was taken two decades past and you now had nine grandchildren and varicose veins.
That was seven years ago, and it was quite a run. I could write a book about my shenanigans and may just be doing that (working title, “Mom’s on Match”).
Some may see my stint as a failure, because while I got engaged, I also got un-engaged and found myself single again.
What I want to leave you with is this…the everpresent moral of every story I tell…
Sometimes heartache can teach you a thing or two if you’re open to its lesson.
Case in point…Here’s an excerpt from some journal notes “scribbled on my phone” during those dating days.
The Widower…I smugly thought that I was in his life to teach him that it was okay to love someone again.
Uncharacteristically, I had pursued him and my heart went flip-flop every time he responded to my message.
It was a crush of the first degree, and, more importantly, the first time that my heart had felt so full of “new.” Surprisingly, spring had sprung, just like when he had confessed,“You made me feel alive again.”
Setting my smugness aside, I suddenly realized that in fact, it had been his lesson to teach me. That it was okay to love again.
So cheers, Mr. Match (to remain unnamed)...for the few moments when I had dreamed in color because of you.
Here’s to love in any season,
Carole
PS I chuckle with what Kathie Lee Gifford answered when asked if she was open to dating again, “If he’s got all his teeth and he loves Jesus, send him my way.”
Ditto.