I apologize for being negligent in responding to all of you. For weeks now, no months, you have urgently showed up in my Friend box asking me to be your Friend. Now, whatever photos you may have seen of me, might make me look like I need Friends, and perhaps that’s why you landed on my page during your scrolling.

But I assure you, I have plenty of friends. In fact, if you also tried to get my attention on my Blog, I spent hours during a recent cruise to Hawaii lounging on the sundeck and checking out each of my followers. And if you’ve not been active in a while, or a long time (which I can find out behind the scenes), I assumed you’ve lost interest or passed on. So I held a brief mourning moment for each of you. It seemed like the right thing to do.

There were lots that got deleted. Imagine being a lowly, not famous blogger for fifteen years and in the beginning getting all excited about the ever-increasing number of followers. The numbers soared above 1000 more than once. Well, rolling with the gentle waves on the Pacific, my finger rolled gently across my WordPress follower data and, after my mourning moments, I “pruned” my follower list from well over 1000 to about 300. As I said goodbye, I pruned gently, because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings if they somehow could feel the pressure of my finger on the Delete button.

 I got that Blog list pruned but never got around to my Wannabe Friends on Facebook list until today. It’s raining. And chilly. A good day to take one last look at all your profiles and say farewell once and for all. I’m thinking that none of you even knows you’ve asked to be my friend! That it’s some Facebook algorithm that paired us up—the widower wake-up note from Facebook that it has found a smashingly brilliant and beautiful widow for you.

Lest you feel bad that I haven’t accepted you as a Friend, I can assure you that at my octogenarian age, I’m not attracted to child men who are under 80. So, I gently want to tell you that not gaining me as your Friend should not disappoint you. Each of your profile pictures show younger men, perhaps hiking up a mountain, standing brave and tall steering a speedboat, catching-with ease- the largest fish of your fishing life—in other words, you’ve presented your most agile self. I commend you for that, but I must tell you, this random fishing for a widow on Facebook isn’t the best way to look for a widow. Especially this one. I don’t hike, sail, or fish. My most favorite activity is lying on my couch reading a book. And for extra nonstarters for any relationship, I don’t cook, clean, or do the washing. You can blame my late husband for that. After he passed, I saw no need to take over his chores. It’s been almost seven years, and I still don’t know my way around a grocery store.

So, my Wannabee Friends, I’m finally going to Delete you from my Facebook list. However, I want to treat you as the sincere individuals I’m certain you are and with the dignity you deserve, so I’ll address you by first names as I sadly say goodbye forever:  

To David, Ron, Eric, Dan, Randy, Paul, Bryan, Mike, Dan, Craig, Thomas, Joseph, Tim, Gabriel, Mark, and Orlando, I will miss your friendly names each time I visit Facebook, and I wish you well in finding younger widows who can get up from their couches, or up from the floor, without help. You may need her to carry your hiking poles, take over the wheel of your speedboat, or bait your fishhooks. You’ll need to make sure she’s in good working order. It’s been a blast to have you along for my Facebook ride.

PS Maybe you should send your dads to my page.