This is one of those words that sounds exactly like its definition. Often perplexed, I have a difficult time deciding certain things. Growing up in a strict New England atmosphere, we never spoke of anything out of the daily routine. My mother, like most in those days, was a “saint”. She cared for four daughters, two sets of grandparents, and cooked, sewed, and cleaned. We never made daily trips to the grocery or restaurants. We had a dairy; beef, pork, chicken, and a vegetable garden. She hung clothes out to “dry” in freezing weather. You get the picture….
The point is, you didn’t have time to sit down and comfortably talk about personal feelings, the latest hairstyle or movie star. Certainly no time to relax and talk about sex. It was taboo, probably similar to other households in the fifties. So anything I knew or came to learn was from friends, not the most reliable source. I married very young and inexperienced.
This is the perplexing part. How is an aging widow supposed to act? If you still want a companion, how does this fit in with that complicated (you want to, but you shouldn’t want to) idealism of your past – ingrained in your mind since you can remember? What would everyone think? Should I care what anyone thinks? Or am I (old) enough or brave enough to venture out on my own? See what I mean? Perplexed!
The Bag Lady 