In recent weeks, I've been struck by the fact that after almost 50 years of marriage, her husband's death, and an excruciating widowhood, author Joyce Carol Oates fell in love, remarried, and is now enjoying a new, much more adventurous life.
Why am I so struck by this?
Simple. I'm excited for her. I mean, here's one of the U.S.'s most talented, most prolific authors rediscovering the world at 71 (yep, she's 71 years old). How cool is that?
Whether by choice or necessity, Oates is out of her comfort zone...looking at the world and herself in new ways. What a great reminder to women that we're never too old or too set in our ways to forge new paths.
If you Twitter with me, you've probably seen me link to the January 15, 2010 article in the
Wall Street Journal that elucidates Oates's transformation. Here's a bit:
Since then, she [Oates] says, her writing habits, hobbies and outlook on life
have changed. She has started going on mountain hikes with Mr. Gross,
who loves the outdoors. Last year, the newlyweds moved into a large
two-story home filled with colorful contemporary paintings, mobile
sculptures and Mr. Gross's photographs of African fauna and temples and
palaces in Tibet. Ms. Oates, a confessed homebody who hasn't traveled
widely overseas, said she plans to join her husband on some of his
adventures.
Sure, some may ask, "Why does she need a man to rediscover the world? After 50 years with one husband, couldn't she have done some discovering on her own?"
My response?
Who gives a hoot? Whatever leads us to new places in both our interior worlds and the exterior one is worth the ride. If it's love, great. If it's tacos, great. If it's some crazy urge to scale the highest mountain in the world, great.
Bravo to Oates. Enjoy.
Extra Tidbit for Writers: Oates has just finished writing a 400-page memoir that deals with her husband's death (February 2008). From what I read, this was not an easy book for her to write, and she says (which I love and agree with wholeheartedly), "It's very clear to me now—as I'd always supposed—that we can't really
choose what we write about in any passionate way: the material chooses
us."