LOVE AND MARRIAGE THE SECOND TIME AROUND

My first husband John and I met at a bar in the suburbs of Minneapolis, Minnesota. After our first date—skating at an outdoor rink—we fell madly in love. Over the years, our date nights revolved around dinners at fancy restaurants, movies and dancing. That was our dating life of the 1980s. When we were in our thirties, we enjoyed the finer things in life— quaint bistros, local bars, concerts and traveling.

In the early 1990s, we moved to rural Afton, Minnesota, a town of less than three thousand people. We embraced the ambiance of the coyotes howling at night, raccoons raiding the birdfeeder and the evening sound of the wind in the trees. The quiet, slow pace of small town America became the life for us.

When my husband, John died suddenly in June of 2000, I was devastated and came close to selling the house and moving back to the city. Thankfully our attorney convinced me to stay for at least a year. During the years that followed, I dealt with mice invasions, plugged gutters, lawnmower maintenance and water in the basement.

The first winter as I cleared snow out of the driveway under the stars with the Murray snow blower, I missed John more than ever and longed for our chamber concert nights and dinners at the elegant hotel in downtown St. Paul. I had no desire to date, I just wanted the love of my life back.

After six years alone, in 2006 at the age of fifty-eight, I met my husband, Allan, on match.com. He had recently been widowed. Based on the information we shared in our emails, I decided he was worth checking out. We met at Mama Maria’s Italian restaurant in Hudson, Wisconsin. The evening of our date, with my stomach rolling around, I gripped the steering wheel and drove across the St. Croix River bridge. Nervous and all dressed up I slid into the booth. He smiled and presented me with an apple for the teacher. He had earned an “A” plus in my book. Then at the end of the date, he surprised me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. As I drove home, I thought he seems like a nice guy.

On the dates that followed,  we went to movies, out to dinner and enjoyed meals at my place—he brought his special homemade chili. On Saturday nights we even went to church together. Eighteen months later and after six sessions of marriage classes—even two people with sixty-six years of marriage between them can learn something new— we said, “I do.”

In the eight years we’ve been married, our dating life has mellowed and so have we. I guess the passage of time and life's challenges does that to you. Living in rural Minnesota, we occasionally grab a hamburger at one of the quaint restaurants in down town Afton. There are only two dining options, so it’s not a tough choice. Other times we invite friends over for a casual meal. Occasionally, for a special date, we’ll buy tickets to a play or concert. In the summer, we especially enjoy the free evening performances in the park in Hudson. Sometimes we’ll even make a special trip to Selma’s ice cream parlor in Afton and split a double scoop of ice cream.

It seems the older I get and the longer we live in this serene country setting, the less it takes to make a date. Over supper one night, I asked Allan what he wanted to do for Valentine’s Day. He replied, “Well, we could burn the brush pile, that would be a hot date!” What a guy!

Life has it's ups and downs, take each day as it comes and keep the flame of hope and love burning in your heart.

Read more about my widow journey in my memoir, Twenty-Eight Snow Angels A Widow's Story of Love, Loss and Renewal  http://www.outskirtspress.com/snowangels  Endorsed by the Open to Hope Foundation, the global Women For One organization and the American Widow Project.

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