“Are you really a farm girl?” The question popped up in yet another private message box on my computer screen.
Not again, I thought to myself. After a moment of consideration, I decided to answer the question as this was the first person to try and start a conversation with something other than ”what are your measurements?”, “what are you looking for?” or my personal favorite, “what are you wearing right now?”
“Yes, I am really a farm girl,” I replied to the unknown male in cyberspace. That I was sure of, but what I wasn’t sure of, was what I was doing dodging personal questions from random strangers online. The year was 2004, and what a year it had been. My second marriage was in its final throes after a three year struggle. In December, my health, which had never been great, was compromised even more by a devastating illness. I was hospitalized with a diagnosis of pneumonia and stage four kidney disease. It was three weeks before Christmas. My children, ages 17, eleven and four, already in a state of turmoil from the stress within the family, were further traumatized by seeing their mother so sick and teetering on the brink of dialysis in a hospital bed.
By the Grace of God and good medicine, and my determined, stubborn nature, I was stable enough to be discharged from the hospital two weeks before Christmas. It would have been a romance novel ending if I could say my husband and I had a real “Hallmark” moment upon my arrival home, where he, realizing what he had almost lost, gathered me in his arms, in front of the gaily lit Christmas tree and cozy fireplace, and professed his undying love for me. Umm … no, not even close. My homecoming was tense, the lack of true concern apparent, and he moved out the day after Christmas.
It was a few days after the holiday, and I was sitting in front of my new present, a computer. My daughter had set it up for me, and showed me how to find the Maine chat rooms, so I could chat with fellow Mainers trying to pass the long, cold winter. I very quickly learned chat rooms were not used primarily for making friends, like I was told, but for “Nookie Location.” Holy cow, the things I read and the pictures I saw...
