
Over the past 15 months he had interwoven together pieces of her heart with his. Her heart had been weak a year before she met him, as it had fallen into disarray during the last two years of her late husband’s life.
That second marriage had been filled with epic adventures, 32 years to a truly intelligent international business man, 20 years her elder, who literally showed her the world. Her 2nd spouse was passionate, nurturing, wise, strong, healthy, and wise. When she married him at 35 and he was 55 there seemed like no age gap existed. At 66 and 86 however, the spread had sadly widened.
Two big strokes after an unsuccessful surgery began his downhill spiral, and with a third stroke recovery was no longer an option. After two years of nearly round the clock care her husband transitioned into his parentheses of eternity. Her heart of love and a lifetime of romance and adventure had turned into a heart of love and need for caregiving though there was never a day when she did not feel his deep love. Her weakened heart was a result of the sadness and emotional rollercoaster of hospitals, surgeries, rehab attempts and probably exhaustion . At 67 she lost her amazing life partner to illness and death.
Since entering widowhood she had demands put on her time from non-profit boards and friends who wanted to fill her life, and utilize her multi-skills, thinking her grief needed busyness to replace loss. To most of her social contacts her life looked full and interesting. Many commented, “She was coping with widowhood so well. She was a real role model!”
She resisted the advances of several men who tried to enter her life; but she did not feel the same chemistry or “life force” she had before and they could not distract her from her multi-tasking ways. She was flattered but was just not interested.
She was not feeling lonely…however something she thought, was missing. Her roles as grandma, sister, aunt, friend, professional, consultant, therapist, volunteer and neighbor were fulfilling.
Her second marriage had been truly magical, such a special chapter in her life. She kept telling herself the memories of that relationship were enough…as she’d had the very best. She told close friends she did not need more.
Then suddenly, a year into widowhood a man rode into her life on a bright yellow Goldwing. He wore a purple do-rag and arrived at the the door on their first date carrying a huge garden patio basket of purple flowers. Unbeknownst to him, purple was her favorite color. Unbeknownst to her, he was about to sweep her off her feet. An immediate romance began.
In the beginning of their relationship her heart began to mend. Her independence was intact though but she was enjoying being wooed. She was welcoming this interdependent partnership. The first few times they were intimate she felt she was ready. His fingers brushing her forehead, his strong arms massaging her back made her want more and she allowed him to lift her arms and move to the motion …gently at first and then he held her with passion as if he had saved it all for this time in their lives.
Their chemistry was amazing. The love making was good but not great…surprising them both. She was comfortable but he seemed to have a “stop” button that switched on moments before coming. She who had done some sexual counseling as a social worker had always been completely at ease with her sexuality and skill as a partner. In her social work mode she thought there could be some trust issues or complications due to several years of this new partner having been with an ill wife who could not be “fully present.”
His expectations of himself were high and were that of a lust-filled 18 year and that issue was new.
When talking about the issue openly and honestly he shared he may have tried to keep a safe distance as he did not fully trust this new lover’s feelings for him. Was he “worthy” of her? He felt he could not match her history of first class travel and awesome lifestyle? He was raised in the country in a small town and had no degree. He was a working man, a laborer; and she was a suburban woman with a Master’s degree in Social Work with a myriad of friends and family.
He believed this new fascinating and seemingly amazing relationship would not last however knew he was was falling in love and did not want to lose her. She said she could not, at that stage, promise “forever,” but valued his wisdom, knowledge gained from life, from PBS, from being a self-taught chef, construction worker, inventor, mechanic, photographer, gardener and fisherman. Most of all she was valued his nurturing, loving exuberance for their relationship and intuitively felt his passion would overcome any issue.
He was ready and wanted to fully bond, he said, but a part of him was holding back….needing more than she could give. She could only promise to be present and go with the flow. It took a few weeks. She did not push. Again, she stayed open to continuing the relationship …surprising herself as her ego was a bit confused….never having experienced this before with other lovers.
After just a few weeks, long hours of deep conversations, endless texts, wonderful motorcycle adventures and long romantic dinners he finally consciously or unconsciously gave himself permission to lose himself completly in her body, in her heart and soul . It surprised and relieved him and she was grateful she’d reined in and had not run. He allowed himself to believe this connection was “real” and accepted her “here and now” presence with “no guarantees.”
His passion came as it had in the beginning but at last the “Stop” button said, “Go!” It fanned flames that took her breath away. They melded, melted, faded, became one and lost sight of two beings. He touched and tasted every part of her and rose again and again and in his noisy, open and exhuberant way he flooded her being as if a fountain of love had broken loose. When they could no longer move…they rested, laughed and sighed.
They did not want to part. Music , especially downloaded, kept playing from his phone. Their sweat was like invisible glue and the aromatics of those loving feelings then demanded silence, savoring and simply being.
When they finally, gently, slowly, carefully let go she observed themselves. Intellectually she knew what happens when two experience that much intimacy. They need to return to themselves….rolling over to their own sides of the bed, of the floor, of the hot tub, of the couch. They were changed…if not forever…then for moments that became etched in each of their psyches and it was “all good.”
In time they snuggled and touched and again he brushed her feathered bangs, caressed her back, her generous breasts, hips and bottom. She stroked his long muscle-filled arms and hairy scented chest and their breathing somehow moved in syncopation. Slumber found them. These two, both widowed for a year had somehow, despite early complications connected, renewed and refreshed and while dreaming they began the next chapter of their lives.
Now into the second year of this rich and glorious relationship the angst of those first few weeks have been erased from his memory. For her, as she reminisces on all parts of their relationship that have grown and expanded she recalls her grandmother’s favorite saying, “Patience is a virtue!”
