My latelife marriage I first tied the knot at fiftyfive. Its been five years since the wedding, and now Im sixty, my husband sixtyfive. Theres nothing odd about those numbers; anything can happen nowadays. Whats astonishing is that this is both of our first marriages.
Imagine: I never intended to marry. Never! When I was under twenty, the man I loved with all my heartStanleyleft me. He walked out while I was five months pregnant. At first, I thought I might end my own life, but I gathered my courage and swore I would never marry. I didnt want another scoundrel to vanish at the first chance.
I kept that promise. My daughter grew up, married, had grandchildren, and I, like a stubborn mule, bore a solitary life. Men certainly tried to get to know memany of thembut my nature is that once I decide, I wont change course. Loneliness turned me rough, far from the gentle woman I might have been.
Fate, however, is a mischievous trickster. Ill tell you how a man finally managed to lead me down the aisle.
When I retired, like most retirees, I turned to gardening. I inherited a modest cottage with a garden plot from my parents in the countryside near Ashford. I rode the commuter train there; the journey takes just over an hour, so I always bring a crossword book to pass the time.
One morning at the platform a couple boardeda middleaged man and his wifealong with a short, elderly gentleman. Silence held for a moment, then I heard the wife whisper timidly:
Stanley, perhaps we should drop by the kids and help them? Youre their father
Before she could finish, a thunderous shout erupted from the older man:
What are you, idiot? Do you expect me to crawl around these fools?
He then launched into a string of abuses aimed at his wife and children. My eyes involuntarily widened, and I froze. It was Stanley, the very same who had abandoned me while I was pregnant. Hed barely changed; his face was more lined and sour, his bulk still imposing. He didnt recognize me, but he spotted my stare and barked:
Whats with the look? Turn away or Ill punch you in the eye!
My whole body went numb. Suddenly, the little man sitting opposite sprang to his feet and planted himself between me and Stanley:
If you dont stop insulting women, youll have me to answer to. A man who talks to a woman like that isnt a man at all, but a villain. Ill twist you like a lambs tail!
Fear seized me; Stanley could have crushed him without effort. Yet the man, shoulders hunched, muttered something and stepped back. In that instant I realized I was facing not a hero but a coward who only raises his voice when a woman is involved. And Ithrough himhad spent a lifetime breaking myself. Tears welled up; thirty years flashed through my mind in minutes.
After two more stops, Stanley and his wife alighted, and I began to sob. The train felt empty and bitter.
Even tears wont mar your beautiful face, the defender said with a smile. He no longer seemed small. Before me stood a real manGeorge Bartholomew, a former serviceman.
Thats how we met. For the first time in many years I felt the desire to marry, to be a loved woman.
And it happened.
George and I are very happy. Life, as it turns out, places everything where it belongs, no matter your age. Even in the autumn of life love can arrive and bring true happiness.
