Is It Ever Too Late To Find Love?

“When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.

– Nora Ephron

In the past month, I’ve been invited to three weddings. My Facebook feed is filled with announcements of engagements and wedding photos of beaming couples.

And they’re not all young.

2022 is turning out to be the Year of the Wedding. More couples are expected to getting hitched than since 1984. According to some reports , an estimated 2.5 million U.S. couples will marry in 2022. The pandemic is certainly a big factor behind the stats.

Credit: Thomas William

As a writer, I’m drawn to love stories. Fiction and fact. Big and small. I’m fascinated by beginnings and wonder in what ways a couple’s origin story might influence subsequent chapters.

Credit: Jeremy Bishop

I like to ask long-time married friends how they met their spouse. Do they remember their first kiss.? (Surprisingly, not everyone does!)

My mother still loves to retell the story of her starstruck blind date with my dad, and their first kiss on a carriage around Central Park. 

There are the “I knew the moment I saw her” stories.

And the quieter stories of sparks that developed over time.

There are couples who didn’t seem to click at first and then, like defogging a mirror, a clearer vision appeared–a common plot of Hollywood rom-coms.

Then there are the stories of those who met much later in life, each person carrying long histories the other had no part of.

Novels I’ve enjoyed with such themes are Meet Me At The Museum by Anne Youngson and Mr. Pettigrew’s Last Stand by Helen Simonson

Credit: Rusy Watson

When you can’t take anymore depressing news headlines, I suggest turning to the weekly Vows section of the New York Times.

There you will find fascinating and diverse true love stories (beginnings only, of course) complete with photos, sure to bring a smile. Profiles of love after great loss, through illness, serendipity, and against all odds–as the saying goes.

Some of my favorites Vows stories are of those who meet late in life-a testament that it’s never too late to find true love.

Two octogenarians marry but decide to live “apart together ”. 

Credit: China Rocha

Folk singer Arlo Guthrie and Marti Ladd’s 20 year friendship culminated in a 2021 wedding.

Uplifting stories, uplift us. Stories of love and new beginnings inspire hope.

Author Joyce Maynard has published essays about her late-life love. After divorcing in her mid-thirties, she spent the next 24 years successful in her writing career but failing at relationships. About to give up after another dud date , she met Jim who became her husband and “true partner” at age 59. Sadly, Jim died of pancreatic cancer barely 3 years later. The experience inspired Joyce’s 2017 memoir, The Best of Us.

Joyce & I at Wellesley Books

Finding love again after loss, whether from divorce or death, can seem insurmountable. Yet people do. Their broken heart opens, making space for a new beloved while still carrying the memory of the other. I’ve witnessed this beautiful and bittersweet transformation among friends and family members.

Dr. Helen Fisher is a biological anthropologist who has done extensive research and writing on the nature of love.

“Romantic love is primordial, adaptable, and eternal.  It’s a basic brain system that, like a sleeping cat, can become awakened anytime in your life . Being in love beyond one’s mating years give you energy, well-being, motivation, and focus.”

What we think of as inevitable phases of love (sex drive, romance, deep attachment), Fisher thinks of as brain systems that can occur in any order. More surprisingly, she concludes that they do not have to disappear in longterm partnerships.

Fisher’s brain imaging studies show that some couples continue to experience all three phases well into their later years. Her studies in this area are intriguing.

“You can be in intensely in love at 22 as you can at 92.”

Helen Fisher, Ph.D

Credit: Ellie Cooper

Interesting to note: Dr. Fisher got married for the first time at 75 (!) and she and her husband live in separate households in the same city. That tidbit definitely sparked my curiosity.

So, don’t give up if love is what you are still seeking.

It’s easy to become discouraged. But no matter how long it takes, it only takes One to begin a new story. 

Credit: Julie Kerner

My Mr. Softie Summers

Do you remember when summers felt endless?

As a child, summer days consisted of playing with friends, running through the sprinkler, and waiting for the ice cream truck–Mr. Softie.

So many choices!

I saved my allowance for the big ticket items: banana split served in a blue plastic boat. Second choice the rocket shipsicle. I remember creamsicles, candy necklaces, sundaes, pushups, and of course, the dipped soft serve cones.

Same driver each day. I thought his name was really Mr. Softie. When the familiar jingle floated through the air, the kids on the block swarmed to his truck always parked at my next door neighbor Lisa’s house.

What did summer mean to me back then?

Mick Haupt, Unsplash

Backyard pools. Flashlight tag. Bike-riding. Twirling my baton on the front lawn. Roller skating. Jump rope. Going to the playground. Kickball. Explore the nearby woods and creek.

Daydream. Read. Make up stories. Put on shows.

Boredom was not an affliction to be instantly remedied.

These endless days were punctuated with trips to my favorite amusement park, and other outings like the Detroit Zoo or a visit to my grandparents home on Lake Huron.

Some evenings, I’d attend my mother’s outdoor singing performances on Belle Isle.

My younger brothers and I lived in the moment of each unfolding hot day, oblivious of how many days had passed or were left before school started.

By the time I had my own children, summer vacation had become a time to keep kids busy: specialty camps, tutoring, organized sports, summer homework packets. Moms and Dads were out working. Our neighborhood was quieter during the week days.

Mr. Softie was replaced by a weekly visit (if lucky) from the Good Humor truck.

As a classroom teacher, I was fortunate to have the summer time to write and be with my kids. I tried to recreate some of the freedom and play that shaped my early years.

What I’m grateful for about the seasons of my childhood was how sheltered I was from the world’s woes. Sure I knew about bad stuff happening “out there”, but I still felt safe in my little corner of the map.

I never heard of a school shooting.

The blazing blue sky can’t coverup our collective grief.

But summer beckons and we move on, maybe a bit more slowly than the rest of the year.

The summers of adulthood are no longer endless. They begin with promise, then unfold rapidly until Back-to-School sales are upon us.

No matter how much I try to savor the long lush days, they pass all too quickly, each one more bittersweet.

My grown kids fondly remember their childhood summers, and how long they felt. That makes me happy.

Now I get to experience my grandchildren running freely in the sunshine…time standing still for a moment.

As a child, I never considered how many summers I had left to live.

Those three glorious months were always in-waiting, like a birthday, certain to arrive on time.

***

My Summer’s Eve 2022 Kickoff

Taking Risks in Writing and in Life

Toltek, Getty Images Stock Phot0

Writing is an act of discovery.

Writing can unearth truths you were afraid to face.

You think you know your subject or plot or characters, until the words begin to march to the beat of their own drum.

Sometimes you discover-perhaps from a trusted first reader–that your words fall flat. Or sound too familiar. Or leave too much white space. 

Something is missing.

To write compelling stories, we have to mine our minds and hearts. This requires a certain boldness.

In drafting a story or essay, or even a blog post, you encounter numerous choices. Which turn will you take?

Some choices seem riskier than others. 

Getty Images

To write something meaningful that will resonate with readers, we must take risks. We must learn to write at the edge of what feels comfortable.

We have to ask: what am I holding back? Why? 

What do I fear by writing the truth, or exploring this matter?

Whenever I’ve pushed myself in this way, the net outcome was rewarding, whether yielding a stronger piece, satisfaction in my work, or publication. Rewards also come from the reader letters I receive.

The same can be said for our lives. Our limiting beliefs keep us from taking risks. So do our fears.

Fear of what others might think.

Fear of being uncomfortable.

Fear of facing certain feelings we’d rather keep ten feet away.

So we remain in the status quo. Settle into a comfortable routine. Stay inside our safety net—a wholly understandable choice in today’s upside down world.

Yet when we remain there, we miss so much. We miss experiences we can’t even yet imagine. 

Sometimes the risk we take is for another. To show up when we’d rather stay home. This, too, can bring unexpected rewards.

I decided that 2022 would be my year of saying “Yes”. 

Yes to new opportunities, relationships, experiences, challenges, and writing projects.  I chose this action not only to face fear but to feel more alive.  To have fewer regrets, even if the outcome isn’t what I hoped for.

But there was another driving factor in this shift: my continued awareness of the brevity of life and the uncertainty of tomorrow in our broken world.

 Bike_Maverick/iStock

I choose to say YES more often because next week, month, year, I may not have this choice. 

A most recent and life-changing Yes was traveling solo from Boston to Lake Atitlan, Guatemala for an 8 day writing retreat. In deciding whether or not to embark on such a trip–my first outside North America–I found several excuses to say No Not Now. (It helps to have a few cheerleaders on your side.)

Stay tuned for the full story…which I wasn’t sure I’d live to tell! 

Writing in Key West: A Seminar Named Desire

Sun, sea, sand.

Three words that bring me joy in January.

Add to this trio communing with kindred spirits and the joyful picture is complete.

I recently spent a week in Florida at the Key West Literary Seminar exploring the craft of creative nonfiction under the guide of esteemed author David Treuer. 

This year’s Seminar theme was Desire.

For three hours each morning I, along with 10 other writers, grappled with how to tell true stories in engaging and meaningful ways. We considered subject, form, voice, detail, conflict, momentum, and dramatic arc.

We read and critiqued each other’s works-in-progress and learned strategies for creating compelling nonfiction. We discussed the writing life and shared our life stories. 

Doing this among strangers takes courage, but it wasn’t long until we bonded over our shared passion.

Being in the physical presence of fellow writers for the first time in over two years, was at times overwhelming. In a good way. Sometimes you don’t realize what you are missing until it arrives. 

Workshop friends

Workshop leader and author, David Treuer

Writers on Writing talk and book signing.

Many literary luminaries wrote in Key West including Ernest Hemingway, Elizabeth Bishop, Shel Silverstein, Robert Frost, Tennessee Williams, Wallace Stevens, Anne Beattie, and Judy Blume.

Writers continue to draw inspiration from this unique place. If you visit, make sure to take the Literary Walking Tour. 

View from Hemingway House

Old Man and the Sea Exhibit

Hemingway’s writing studio

One of the 56 Hemingway cat descendants. This one six-toed.

The arts abound in the Key West. The island is only 5 square miles, easily walkable and bike rentals readily available. The place is full of color and character. I found the locals quite friendly.

The stars truly aligned for all this to happen amidst the Omicron threat. I am grateful to the Seminar committee for granting me a fellowship, along with the lovely accommodations at Eden House.

This break in routine, change of scenery, socializing, and inspiration all served to jump-start my creativity and motivation. 

I gained the direction and focus needed to complete the essay I’d struggled with for many months.  “The Bridge That Fell Down” is now ready to send out into the world. 

I hope you, too, can find ways to experience this much-needed rejuvenation, big or small, in anyway possible. 

Winter Solstice Reflection: Where were you 2 years ago?

December 13, 2019. 

I’d just returned from a fabulous NYC trip. My daughter and I shopped Fifth Avenue, dined out, enjoyed the holiday displays, visited Rockefeller Center, and happily sat in a crowded Broadway theatre.

We had no idea what was in store for the 2020 New Year. Couldn’t even imagine it. 

No idea that some faraway virus would upend our lives. 

No inkling that her 2020 NYU graduation would be cancelled. 

Never fathomed that the Broadway we’d always enjoyed would shut down in two months. 

And so it goes.

Here we are December 19th, 2021, still exhausted from risk calculations. The Omicron news brings flashbacks to 2020. We may be in a different, even better place, yet for many of us, our bodies remember the trauma and react as if it’s happening all over again. 

The pandemic years have forced us to make peace with uncertainty. As a result, I’m less inclined to put things off, and more inclined to grab an opportunity when it arises. 

So, recently, my daughter and I grabbed tickets to a holiday musical showing in Boston. We were all dressed up and ready to go when we learned that the show was cancelled.

Yet a strange thing happened.

Instead of utter disappointment, we were more relieved to find this out before driving all the way into Boston at night! Thankfully, the venue offered us the chance to rebook. So we grabbed that, too.

A few days later, we sat in the Wang Theatre among the other vaccinated or negative-testing patrons, all masked. Exactly 2 years from the date of our Broadway show. 

I even wore the same dress to commemorate the milestone.

And while it certainly felt different, it still felt wonderful.

***

The shortest, and darkest, day of the Northern Hemisphere approaches. And yet, the winter solstice also means the days are getting slightly longer, though it will take a while to notice.

Tonight there’s the full Cold Moon to marvel. 

And the annual Ursids meteor shower to catch.

This year, though, the bright moon will make it harder to see those spectacular shooting stars.  

Be patient. 

Keep watching.

Don’t miss the show. ~

December 19, 2019. Moon Dance Begins Again.