Life

Love, Laughter, and Late Nights: Online Dating After 60.

Before reading this particular blog entry, you might want to read or re-read the entry at the link above. There was definitely more to that story.

To quote from that story,

“A couple more back-and-forth visits took place until ultimately, while visiting me in Palm Coast, he told me he didn’t see this working; the distance was just too great. I totally agreed with him. As much as we were drawn to each other and our amazing similarities, the two hours between us seemed pretty insurmountable. We reluctantly said our goodbyes.“

The rest of the story follows:

We did reluctantly say our goodbyes. I watched him from my upstairs condo walking to his little BMW convertible, certainly sorry it couldn’t work. We really had so much in common, and I’d never felt more comfortable with a man before. But off he drove, back to The Villages.

About 20 minutes later, my phone rang. The caller ID showed his name. I hesitantly answered, “Hello?”

“Hi,” he said. “You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m in Bunnell. I got pulled over for not having insurance on my car.”

“What?”

He went on to explain something about his plate being run by a cop in Bunnell, and it came back that he didn’t have insurance on the BMW. Apparently he had bought the car, insured it, put his vanity plate back on it and thought it was good to go. He tried to explain that to the cop; he even called a friend who was a former cop to see if that might help. It didn’t.

They impounded his car and took his driver’s license. Stranded in a back-country town far from home, he didn’t know what else to do, so he called me.

“Is there any chance you could give me a ride back to The Villages?”

Keep in mind, it was a two-hour drive to his home, which was the reason he broke up with me in the first place. And even though I certainly agreed with him about the distance, it still left a bit of a sting.

“Uh … no … I don’t think so…”

After some hemming and hawing from him, I finally agreed to take him halfway if he could get someone to pick him up. He did, I drove him halfway, and we said our goodbyes.

And that’s where the rest of the other story picks up…

“Several weeks later, after a visit to Michigan for a wedding and my return home, I received a text from him saying, “Can you chat?”

I later learned that it cost him a thousand dollars … cash … to go to court and to get his car out of the impound lot.

He still says it was worth it.

I like to think of my life in chapters. The first chapter would obviously be my childhood where I grew up in a large Irish-Catholic family with all the challenges and joys inherent therein. While the teen years are still part of childhood, for me, looking back, it was a new chapter filled with insecurities, bad choices, a bit of fun, and some life-changing events. My third chapter, filled with college independence, learning to fly, and being on my own, while scary and challenging, would have to be high on my list of happy times.

Chapter four brought a new life with a young husband, lots of moves around the country, having children and raising them mostly alone. It entailed learning a new career, a new hobby, and finally struggling to find a way to survive a dysfunctional relationship while bringing up healthy adults. 30 years is a long time in the institution when it’s a good marriage. When it’s not, it’s a jail sentence. In chapter five, after a contentious divorce, I moved from Michigan to Florida. With my grown kids starting their own lives, I left behind a shuttered business, a foreclosed home, and a broken family in an attempt to pick up the pieces of what was left of my life and start fresh in the sunshine state.

Moving on isn’t easy. Change can be scary. A second failed relationship had me questioning my choices. I eventually found work in the healthcare field of home health, then found my niche in hospice. In chapter six I finally purchased my own place. Being totally independent gave me the faith in myself that I needed to really start fresh. I put my past behind me and learned to depend on ME, slowly regaining a confidence I thought was lost forever. With a move so far from home and being alone, I consoled myself with the somewhat hopeful thought that people like to visit warm places in the winter, and maybe, with time, that would happen. It eventually did, and I found I could relax and enjoy sharing this little slice of heaven with others without feeling like I had to explain any longer why I was there.

In chapter seven. I believed I’d met my last love. I (mostly) retired, moved into a 55+ community, and brought my wonderful 93-year-old mom into our home to live out her days with us. I had kids and grandkids just a few miles away. The future seemed so promising. But after the wretched COVID year of 2020, life with him changed forcing me into yet another failed relationship. My mom had to go back to Michigan where she died a month later. My kids moved back north. I went into a tailspin.

Chapter eight was one of healing, moving, trying to find my place after a very long and broken road. I ultimately landed in a lovely condo in the trees of Palm Coast, just a mile from the peace of the ocean. I was completely independent, slowly learning how to trust myself by giving it all to God, the Universe, whatever you want to call it. I started manifesting my future as I’d wished it would be. And as I grew closer to some of my siblings, I learned to be happy and content with my life.

The next chapter is still hard for me to grasp. Chapter 9 has come with the fulfillment of all my dreams! In my gratitude to God, I was brought the most wonderful man who has shown me what real, grown-up, unselfish love is. I’ve moved to his home in The Villages. Daily I am grateful and thankful, and we both shake our heads at how lucky we are to have found each other.

I anticipate wonderful chapters ahead! I’m actually one of those people who will often read the end of a book first so I’m prepared for what’s coming. I can’t do that in this situation. I will simply have to expect the unexpected, make plans but not plan on them, and meet each new day with Irish optimism and the belief that in following God’s plan for me, I cannot go wrong. Would I go back and rewrite some chapters if I could? I don’t think so. They are what brought me to this place, and I, for one, wouldn’t change a thing.