Widows

So, I'm sitting in church this evening waiting for mass to start and instead of praying I got looking around at all my fellow parishioners. We attend mass at the Cathedral of St. Ignatious Loyola in Palm Beach Gardens. We are the main church in the diocese of Palm Beach County. I mention this fact only to give you an idea of the financial level of the congregation. (We go to this church because it is the closest to our house, not for any other reason. We are the poor folk.)
But I digress . . . So, I'm looking around at ALL the senior citizens in the church and it occurs to me I can tell who is a widow and who is a widower. It's really quite simple. There are any number of women in the church who are dressed in most expensive clothes and jewelry. Their hair is perfectly arranged (and colored, not too many purple or blue), their nails are manicured, their makeup is stunning and they are all smiling. These are the WIDOWS. The remainder of the females in the church are dressed in what ever had the least wrinkles and/or still fit our ever expanding thighs. Our hair is hand raked in the car on the way to mass and makeup, if any is limited to a smear of lipstick. We have the latest plastic or rag purse that we bought for $5 at the flea market and our shoes are vintage 1987 because they still fit. The bags under our eyes can be seen across a football field and we can't stop yawning throughout the entire mass.
On the other hand we have the WIDOWERS. These are the men who have on sandals with 2 different color socks. Their pants are stained and baggy and come no where near to matching the wrinkled, stained plaid shirt that they are wearing. They all desperately need a hair cut and don't have a clue that the mustard from their hot dog at lunch is still smeared across their chin. The remaining men in the church are the married men who put the widowers to shame with their smart outfits and polished shoes. Their hair is trimmed and they are wearing expensive watches and eye glasses. They look well rested and at peace with the world.
I have hopes that some day I too will have the opportunity to be the good looking 80 year old with the gold jewelry but I fear Ger will "win" and get to be the sloppy old guy with the pants that are falling off his butt and the hair in his ears. After all, he has been practicing since he retired.