I had no interest in dating. None. Nada.
In the years immediately following the loss of my wife to cancer, I was content to live a single lifestyle, cherishing the memories of a beautiful thirty-eight-year marriage, and focusing on my retirement, my grandchildren, and the opportunity to live out my faith in volunteer activities. To anyone who inquired about dating, I had a simple answer.
No, I did not need to be married to be content.
Four years later, a good friend in my parish invited me to dinner at his home—to meet his widowed sister—with the hope that we would start dating—and a budding romance would eventually bring her back to the Catholic Church. I wasn’t interested in missionary dating, or any dating for that matter, so I never followed up with her until several months later.
I wanted to go to a Christian Christmas concert and didn’t want to go alone. So I gave my friend’s sister a call, and she accepted my invitation. We soon realized we had much in common, and her companionship was admittedly a friendly one. I enjoyed her company and could see a genuine friendship emerging.
As the weeks and months went by, I realized it was time to discuss our differences in faith. She had left the Catholic Church when she married her late husband. Now, she and her family were Southern Baptists and, she soon made it clear she had zero interest in returning to the Catholic Church.
At this point, I had one of those déjà vu moments.
In 1969, I graduated from high school and started college. My high school sweetheart and I were madly in love and had already started talking about a future together. She was Catholic, and I was, well, I wasn’t anything. Other than weddings and funerals, I could count on one hand the number of times I had attended church services of any denomination. That changed in 1970.
As a freshman at Georgia Tech, some of my fraternity brothers were evangelical Christians. Their witnessing found fertile soil in my heart, and I became convicted of my sins. Soon thereafter, while watching a Billy Graham Crusade on television, I responded to his invitation to commit my life to Christ. Knowing Christians should go to church, and having no preference, I joined my Aunt’s Southern Baptist Church.
That’s when all hell broke loose.
As I witnessed my newfound faith to my Catholic girlfriend, she was conflicted. Fascinated, even intrigued with my passionate new faith, she grew more uncomfortable as she was unable to answer my questions about her relationship with the Lord. Her mother went ballistic and sought to sever our relationship. We broke up for about four months. I was miserable, she was miserable, and we agreed to start dating again. Not long after that, we attended a Bible study led by a priest. His presentation was powerful and exploded many of the myths I had about Catholicism.
We married three years later. Our “til death do us part” vow included one other commitment. Wherever we went to church, we would go together. We both knew struggling couples divided by faith traditions and were committed not to fall into that scenario.
Throughout this experience, we maintained a strong relationship with some Catholic families as well as the priest we had met at that Bible study.
Those vital relationships helped address the questions I had about the Catholic faith and a few years later found me joining the Church.
We were finally a family united and fully committed to the Catholic community.
Five children and thirty-eight years later, I found myself a widower and still very much an active parishioner in my local parish. Finding myself dating someone who wasn’t Catholic but a Baptist, I had to laugh at the script that had flipped. It was apparent to both of us that our paths would diverge. My Baptist date and I mutually agreed that our relationship should stay a friendship.
Having opened the door to dating, I asked myself—how do I date women who share my faith tradition? There were some wonderful ladies in my parish but none that sparked any romantic interest. Sitting in the pew one Saturday before Mass, I glanced over the bulletin, and there it was. CatholicMatch was the answer. While I had initially pooh-poohed the idea of dating via the internet, I had to admit, there were few options available to meet like-minded women.
So I signed up, completed my profile, and entered the scary, exciting, and unknown world of internet dating. I met some extraordinary women, but, as I have noted in other posts, none sparked any interest until Patrice.
After a year on CatholicMatch, I had almost given up. When I got a ping from this woman named Patrice, my initial reaction was indifference. She lived too far away. She had been divorced, though an annulment was underway. I hesitated.
But, her CatholicMatch profile was fascinating.
She was born at the Pope’s Hospital in Rome, Italy. Adopted and raised by Irish-American parents, she had a cute Irish accent. She had two Master’s degrees, one in theology from Notre Dame. This gal had been dipped multiple times in the Catholic jar. Now, to be clear, those observations were never part of any criteria on my part for dating her. But her background intrigued me. Our email dialogues led to phone conversations which led to meeting face-to-face, followed by a developing friendship, dating, and ultimately marriage—all in the span of fourteen months.
As a committed Catholic, finding someone who shared my faith and who could walk alongside me as a partner and helpmate was the “green light” to continue the relationship, opening the door to the possibility of falling in love again.
And I did.
Now, five years later, I can say I found a partner in love, joy, and faith.
Thank you, CatholicMatch!
