A women's world

Last night I saw a photo of a cityscape at night, full of tall, tall buildings with spires reaching into the sky.  It reminded me of a story I'd read about someone, either the architect or the owner, adding an antenna to the top of a new building so that this would be the tallest in the world by a couple of inches.  And I thought "I don't think female architects would be so bent on a building having to be the tallest" - for the obvious reason.

That got me thinking about what else would be different if women were in charge of the world.  I don't think there would be wars, for one thing.  Women are the mothers of the sons (and now daughters) who fight the battles in a war, and I just don't think women would be so cavalier about sending their children out to face tanks and bazookas and bombs and such.  I know all of this is a generalization, but it's founded in experience and science.  Women simply aren't as aggressive as men because we're not run by testosterone.  Women are more cooperative.

Sure we have our murderers and bitches.  But so often the women who can be pointed to as making it in a man's world are women who act more like men, have adopted men's language, posture, and shows of strength.   So it's still male energy running everything.

All of this is moot, of course, because women will never be running everything for the very reason I'm talking about; we just aren't subject to that kind of aggression.  Maybe don't even want to run the world.  Long ago when my grandfather asked me what I would do first if I were made Queen of the Universe, I replied immediately "Abdicate".

When I look at a war scene, at the tanks and cannons and drones and uniforms and rifles and dead bodies, I get terribly sad.  It all seems so unnecessary.  We all know already that we share this fragile, magnificent, miraculous planet and that we are made of exactly the same organs and blood and brains, despite the differences in language, history, skin color, customs. Why on this good green Earth can't we get along?  But I guess if one country acts like a bully, other countries have to act like bigger bullies in order to win, which makes the bully act like a bigger bully which makes......

I once saw Jordan Klepper interview a MAGA follower at a Trump rally.  When he asked if she would vote for a woman for President, she was quite firm that No no no, a woman might be emotional, might be on her period and start a war.  So he asked "Haven't all wars so far been started by men?"  It actually gave her pause, but of course I have no idea if that moment actually got her to think a little more deeply about the rhetoric she parrots.

I could be way off base in my assumptions about how much more peaceful the world will be if it were run by women, but since it will never happen, I guess I'll never know.

Double jackpot

One night recently Sweet Hubby and I saw red lights flashing on the street outside our house.  We looked out the window to see the wife of the couple across the street being carried into an ambulance.  (She's home again and doing all right, in case you're concerned, although she has a bad case of long COVID.)

Something like that always brings to mind the fact that one day SH and I will have to deal with one of us being carried away for good.  Those thoughts make my heart clench up and my stomach drop in anticipation of how awful, how unbearable, how ghastly it's going to be to say good-bye to SH.  I don't know how I could ever recover from the loss if I were the one left behind.

But for some reason, this night another thought came close on the heels of the "Oh no, oh no!"  I remembered that I have, astoundingly, been loved every day of my entire life.  First it was my mom, whose affection, support, and warmth could always, and I mean always be counted on.  No matter how neglectful or dismissive or absent or cranky I was, she loved me unwaveringly and I knew it.

Since SH and I joined our lives almost 18 years ago, I have also been loved by him, every day, without fail, no matter what mood I'm in, whether my insecurities are rampant or I'm pouting about something or we've just had an argument.  He loves me and he tells me so many times a day and shows it in a hundred ways. 

I do realize that it is the loss of all that constant, faithful, dependable love that is going to be part of the heartache if SH dies before me.  It certainly was true that when my sweet Mom died, it left a gaping hole in my world, but by then I had SH to lean on and be comforted by, so love was uninterrupted.  If he dies first, I can only imagine with a shudder how bereft I will be.  I hope I will still have my darling siblings, of course.  We three love each other dearly.  But they and I are busy with out own lives, and are a bit more judge-y in our shared love.  It's wonderful, but it's just not the same.

So what I hope is that if (I say 'if' rather than 'when' because SH has promised I get to die first) that terrible day arrives that I lose my SH, I hope I remember to be grateful grateful grateful to have been loved so well, and will allow that remembrance to be a balm, to add some gratitude and sweetness to the bitter sorrow.  Maybe remembering and cherishing those lifelong gifts of love will be what allows me to recover and continue to live my life.  That's what I hope.