HERE’S A HAPPY ENDING

Herb has asked me to write a short piece about my story and offer some hope to the men who are in this forum who are struggling with their grief. The month of March is particularly poignant because I lost my dear wife, Susan, four years ago this month. But I never imagined the beautiful things that would happen since that time.

My wife passed March 13, 2020, and two days later, the whole country shut down because of COVID. At the time, I felt that things couldn’t have been more horrible. I was mentally and physically broken. However, deep down, I knew that I needed to somehow flip the script and get my life back on track at some point.

At the time, I was living in a state with severe lockdowns. I knew that I needed to leave the community where I had lived and worked for 40 years and find somewhere less restrictive. I found that freedom in Arizona and moved to Scottsdale the following January. I left behind many dear friends who were incredibly supportive of me after Susan passed. Still, somehow, I knew that a change of scenery was the highest priority.

The move to Scottsdale was eye-opening. I didn’t know anyone. I had to make myself get out and do things by myself. I managed to make a few friends along the way and I settled into a nice routine. Fast forward to February 22, 2022, and I’m enjoying an early dinner at a nice local restaurant. I was sitting at the bar. About midway through my dinner, a nice woman came in and sat next to me at the bar. She ordered a martini, and when her drink arrived, I brought my glass over to hers and said, “Cheers!”

Little did I know that at that moment, I had just met the woman who would become my wife.

We started to have a conversation and she shared that she had lost her husband a few years earlier to Alzheimer’s, which is how I lost my wife. We shared caregiver stories and talked about the struggles of dealing with a loved one with dementia. By this time, I was finished with my meal, and it seemed like a good place to end the conversation. I wrote down my name and phone number on the restaurant receipt and said, “If you’d like to continue this conversation, please call me.”

The next day, Donna called me, and we met for dinner at the same restaurant. We enjoyed some lively conversation – not only about our late spouses – but about each of us as individuals. Looking back, I would say we had great chemistry from the beginning. However, I was still dealing with emotions from the loss of my wife. I was somewhat hesitant to get into a relationship. I decided that slow and easy would be the best thing to do. Donna and I dated for about a year. We weren’t intimate during that year. Just very good friends.

Donna then invited me for a long weekend at a condo she and her husband owned in a beach community near Los Angeles. That’s really when the romance took off. I fell madly in love with Donna over the next several weeks, and she shared her love and affection for me.

We both felt strongly that becoming great friends before becoming intimate was the glue that held our relationship together.  Just shy of two years since we met, Donna and I were married on February 17th this year.

Both of us never believed we would love again after our spouses passed. At the same time, we both realized that being together and married at our age (we’re both in our 70s and very healthy) was right for us. We talk openly about our spouses nearly every day. We both feel it’s a great way to keep their memory alive. And it reminds each other that we’re so happy to have found love together.

Final thought. I know deep down that meeting Donna was a God-given moment. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t let myself have an open heart and let my grief and sadness take a lesser priority in my life. I managed to flip the script and find love again. If you’re reading this and finding some hope and joy in my story, then I wish you all the best in finding peace in your soul and love in your life.