Ann Anderson Evans

Life Without My Husband, Day 8

My husband Terry is on a three-week Australian road trip with his best friend, and I took this opportunity to spend a weekend of retreat at the Kripalu Center in Massachusetts. There were mostly women there, which got me thinking. A recent radio science program featured a segment about how the male chromosome is sheddingContinue reading “Life Without My Husband, Day 8”

Life Without My Husband (Day Three)

Today was Thanksgiving. My daughter and I feasted at the assisted living home where my aunt Jean lives — a mild, merely warm repast. Jean gets more frail every day. There were several people there who had no visitors. Dorothy (a pleasant, tidy woman who spends her day doing Sudoku in the sun room) wasContinue reading “Life Without My Husband (Day Three)”

Life Without My Husband – Day Two

I had trouble getting to sleep on my first night alone, but once there, I slept longer than usual. I forget — were queen-sized beds meant for two people or only one? My childhood friend Suzy’s parents had two queen-sized beds. All the parents I knew had twin beds separated by a little table, justContinue reading “Life Without My Husband – Day Two”

Life Without My Husband (Day One)

I have just kissed him good-bye, so I don’t miss him yet. He’s still sitting in the airport, or going through security. I’m grateful that the big storm that’s coming tonight held off until he left. Driving back from the airport, I could feel my context shifting. I was starving and now I could eatContinue reading “Life Without My Husband (Day One)”

Life without my husband

I’ve been married for six years. We’re both in our 70s and aware that we won’t be celebrating a 50th anniversary. With luck, a 20th. We talk about our prospects sometimes, and he surprised me once by saying, “I hope you go first because I want to be here to take care of you.” ThoseContinue reading “Life without my husband”

The humility of aging

For my husband’s 70th birthday I had dressed to please him, even wearing heels. The waiters at NoMad had spoiled us silly, and now we were at the intermission of 700 Sundays, Billy Crystal’s one-man show on Broadway. The evening was going perfectly. At intermission I headed toward the ladies room on our balcony level.Continue reading “The humility of aging”

Masters of Sex

A television program about two sex researchers? I wasn’t drawn to it, but have changed my mind. The story begins mildly titillating, with brazen prostitutes and daring civilians offering themselves to be viewed and analyzed scientifically while having sex. Masters, the dour, repressed genius, is convinced that finding out how sex works in human beingsContinue reading “Masters of Sex”

Recording my book

In the 1990s I commuted into New York City on the bus. Several times a week my seatmate was Roy Yokelson, an Emmy-winning sound engineer, owner of Antland Productions. We saw each other through some rough times. Roy calls me his “therapist,” and I feel the same about him. When I moved to the next townContinue reading “Recording my book”

Banana Republicans

I’ve traveled a lot in Europe, where from time to time there has been griping and fury at the unions for halting commerce, or education, or transportation. I’ve never even heard of a country where it is the government that halts commerce in the country it is governing. Maybe my sense of history has holesContinue reading “Banana Republicans”

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