Lenore, on our morning walk

This is a true story, told to me by a brave and determined woman.

A woman I know, an animal lover and reader of my books, had a long and happy marriage, more than 50 years. Her husband became ill late in life, and died after a long and painful illness. She suffered grievously after his death, experiencing fear, depression, acute loneliness. She suffered terribly.

In her 70’s, she and her family began thinking about downsizing her life, and she did. She went through the worst of the grieving, and began to tentatively explore the world. She got an e-mail from an old boyfriend, and they talked on the telephone and they hit it off, so he came to visit her over the holidays. Together, they had an ever better time, talking for hours, walking, sharing life, two sometimes lonely people looking for connection. They decided to move in together, and soon.

“I am in my late 70’s,” she wrote me, “and time is precious.” Her family is upset. They have urged her to be cautious, to wait, warning that it’s too soon, it might not work out. She told me she is going ahead and having him move in after the first of the year. If it doesn’t work out, she says, well it doesn’t work out. In the meantime, she’s going to enjoy every second of it.

I love this story. She is living her life, and not allowing other people to define her. Good for you, friend.

I don’t think there is a single thing in my life that has been meaningful that the people around me told me to do. Not getting the farm, getting dogs, or donkeys, writing about them, even seeing Maria. I remember when I first started taking photographs, someone I worked with in publishing called me up and told me to stop taking photos. “They look like Hallmark cards,” he said. “You’re a writer.” I have known for a long time not to listen to people who tell my how to life. That gets lonely sometimes, but it works for me.