A Widower’s Dating Dilemma

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The nest had been empty since 1999 when our youngest child left for college.

My wife and I looked forward to the next season of our life. With retirement on the horizon, we could not have been more excited.

But just a few years later, at age 58, my wife discovered a lump in her breast. A biopsy confirmed cancer. Four months later, just a month after turning 59, she passed away in January of 2011.

In what seemed like an instant, the plans we had made evaporated and I found myself alone, wondering what I was going to do.

I had never known a day as an adult without my wife.

She was my high school sweetheart and we married while in college. Besides, aren’t husbands supposed to precede their spouses in death? 

It wasn’t long before kind-hearted friends inquired, “Have you considered dating again?” An emphatic “NO” was my answer. I reasoned that though life had taken a turn I wasn’t expecting, I did not have to be married to be content. True contentment depended on my relationship with the Lord. Besides, I was a man blessed with the memories of a wonderful thirty-eight-year marriage, five amazing children, and a growing number of grandchildren. Life was still worth living and I did not have to be married to enjoy it.

As the next few years passed, I re-engaged with life, remained active in my parish, stayed busy doing volunteer work, and found my grief soften.

Still, the big question lingered. 

Did I want to spend my remaining years alone? Could I fall in love again? Would doing so betray the love I had for my late wife? 

Ironically, years earlier, before any health issues arose, my wife gave me a gift—one I would not open for ten years. Driving down the interstate on a romantic weekend getaway, out of the blue, my wife stated, “I hope you die first.”

Not sure I heard her right, I responded with a quizzical, “Say what?

Seeing the bewildered look on my face, she explained that she knew that it would be toughest on the one left behind. I quickly pivoted. “So, this is one of those, I-love-you-so-much I hope you die first conversations?  In that case, I hope you die first.” We went back and forth until we just started laughing. But after a brief pause, to allow the echoes of our laughter to subside, she got serious and said, “If I should die first, I want you to know, it’s ok with me if you get married again.” Thinking I needed more clarification, she quickly added, “Besides, men need someone to look after them, especially you!”

I had forgotten that conversation until years after having lost my beloved, when I faced the decision as to whether or not to date again. Recalling her words and her desire that I be happy, I was silently grateful that such an emotional roadblock had been removed preemptively some ten years before. What a loving and thoughtful gift she had given me!

Grief affects people differently. 

Some reject God for taking away their loved one. Others, myself included, are drawn into a deeper devotional life. For me, Psalm 34:19 pierced through the veil of my tears reminding me that “God is near the brokenhearted, and saves those crushed in spirit.” I spent time daily praying and pondering God’s will for my now solitary role. I remembered my wife’s blessing to remarry. My children had given me a green light on dating. Yet still, I hesitated. I found solitude (sounds so much better than loneliness) to be an opportunity to grow closer to the Lord. The more I grew in my faith, the more assurance I had that God was not finished with me yet. And, it was ok to be open to a new relationship.

My spiritual growth was important to me and should I find love again, I wanted it to be with someone who shared my faith, the Catholic faith. One Sunday morning, sitting in the pew at church waiting for Mass to begin, I noticed an ad for CatholicMatch on the last page of the parish bulletin. A sign from God? An answer to prayer?  

The door to the dating life had been unlocked. 

As I peeked inside, new fears emerged. The last time I kissed someone other than my wife, Lyndon Johnson was President! This was uncharted territory. How does a senior citizen date? Besides, I asked myself, “who would be interested in an overweight, balding, sixty-five-year-old widower?” Standing at the dating door, my three daughters pushed. “Dad, you’re a nice guy. Get out there.”

And, so I did.

Giving my fears and reservations to the Lord, my dilemma resolved, this senior Medicare-eligible male started a new adventure—dating.  Little did I know what wonders God had in store for me.

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