Falling in Like

Having recently divorced, I concluded that life was worthy of more than what I had accomplished in the previous 42 years. I was determined not to become reclusive, lazy, or just plain retired.  New life. New shoes. New attitude. Time to smile, get to know myself, and reassess what was important to living again.

I was given an opportunity to exit the cold, blustery confines of Michigan’s winter and enjoy the sunny south.  Long time girlfriends Kaye and Janey had found a small, comfortable condo in their Florida complex. Family and friends questioned my reasoning and quick decision. I assured them I planned to have fun, meet new people and move forward. I couldn’t get there fast enough.

The place of warmth and sunshine was just what I needed. Kaye and Janey were experienced in any and all “senior” activities. Potlucks, happy hours, card clubs, quilting, meeting new peeps and the like. Immediately I was introduced to my neighbor, Henry.   Warned that he was single and much the gentleman and charmer, I was not disappointed. Henry gracefully sported his 80 plus years. He introduced himself casually and I knew immediately I had a friend. Ahhhh, life in the sun!

Innocent enough, I invited Henry for dinner. He arrived early with a cooler and a smile.  He pulled out a small plate of shrimp, cocktail sauce, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. “You didn’t say anything about hors d’oeuvres and I always have a few before dinner. I brought my favorites and a little wine.”  His coy smile and wink found me fascinated.

Slightly enamored, we enjoyed a light dinner and lively conversation. Henry suggested he return the favor by taking me to one of his local hangouts, Buster’s. Thinking nothing of it, I graciously agreed to dinner the following night.

As you can imagine, one dinner led to another and another. Henry had lost the love of his life six years previous. I was recently divorced after a long, committed marriage. We seemed to be great listeners, enjoyed similar values, humor, and oddly enough, empathized in each other’s woes.

It wasn’t long before Henry admitted that he was starry eyed. “So listen, Francie. You are so wonderful for me. You make me smile and make me feel worthwhile.  I have never met someone like you. You are somthin’ else! I think I’m falling for you, BUT that doesn’t mean YOU can fall for me.”

“Oh Henry, you are crazy!” I assured him. “This can’t be. We are just great friends. Stop with those silly ideas.”

He would hear nothing of my thoughts. “I realize I am much too old for you. I’d like to help you find someone that would be a better match.  But, I don’t plan to work very hard at it! You are beautiful and have a good heart. I want to be alive just one more year so I can enjoy this happiness with you.”  Henry was adamant. He was a true gentleman, compassionate, and a comfort when I needed it most. Oh my, what had we started?

For the next eight months, Henry and I enjoyed short travels, concerts, Cribbage, boating, fishing, and quiet dinners. Life had become one big smile for the both of us. I openly prayed, “God, if this is meant to be, make it so.”  I too, was falling in like with Mr. Henry.

That summer, after an eight day trip through the Mitten, Henry and I enjoyed a leisurely week at his lake cottage in Wisconsin. One morning while sharing coffee on the dock, Henry mentioned feeling short of breath and wondered if maybe it was walking pneumonia. He had an appointment with a pulmonologist in a few weeks, but felt like he couldn’t wait for the visit. Following a call to his family, Henry and I set off for the Emergency Clinic.

A week later, after much needed oxygen, a few blood transfusions, and endless tests, Henry was diagnosed with MDS, a form of pre-leukemia. If he could overcome current lung congestion, occasional blood transfusions would return him to normal living. Henry decided that he would try intensive antibiotic treatment in hopes of getting well and back to living.

Within 24 hours, Henry and his medical team were not seeing improvements they had hoped for. Calling on palliative care, his priest, and the hospital Chaplain, Henry was calmly adamant. “Take out these needles, keep me comfortable, I am ready for this journey.”  His quiet strength was evident and honorable.

Henry pleaded with me stay by his side.  “Please don’t go back home. I want you here with me. I want my kids here, but not making my decisions. They’ll start arguing and all that. I love you and want you on this journey with me. You are not judgemental and will allow me to make my own decisions.  You are beautiful, wonderful and give me comfort.” Sobbing, I held his hands in mine and could only agree. With his children’s overwhelming approval, I would courageously take this journey with Mr. Henry.

Two days later, Mr. Henry completed his passage. I was there and it was beautiful. Such a God-given gift was Mr. Henry. The hospital Chaplain, the palliative care team, Henry’s priest , his children, and I comforted, prayed, sang, and blessed this gracious, giving man.

Losing someone dear is seldom easy nor timely. Hold on to the love, not the loss. Powerful, purposeful, real. My strength. Thank you loving God for Henry.

Lessons Learned

One can never predict when a true gift of love will enter your life. Henry was just that for me and I was ever reminded that I was just that for him.  

God never gives us more than we can handle. Journeying with another through their final days was an experience I never thought I could endure. With God’s trust and love I became the strength Henry needed to move forward.

There are no guarantees in life. Live like there is no tomorrow.  Enjoy. Love. Find happy!

Thanks for reading!