Open Writing

When I married for the third time I was in my early fifties. I was apprehensive about the decision, in part because of my age, and not least because my previous two marriages had ended in divorce, even though each of them had lasted fourteen years. I discount the coincidence of duration as being due to attention deficit disorder, because the circumstances of each divorce were quite different. I was more concerned about whether, at fifty plus, I could adapt to a new relationship.

I consider myself to be fairly flexible, having had plenty of practice in my varied life, but nevertheless wondered if I could adjust to my new partner; or she to me for that matter, since she had not been married before. To complicate matters, I had lived alone for three years after my last marriage ended, and though initially finding it difficult, had come to enjoy the independence that I had not experienced in many years. Now, having just celebrated my twenty second anniversary, I wonder why I was so concerned.

My wife and I have had adjustments to make of course; in fact you might say we’re still fine-tuning the relationship, but it has been a wonderful experience. All in all, I feel very fortunate to have found so much happiness, and a love beyond my greatest expectations. Against the background of my own successful, late life marriage, I have now become a keen observer of other people who, either because of the death of a spouse or a divorce, have opted for a new relationship.

On first meeting such couples, before I actually know anything about them, I am often struck by their seeming awkwardness, bordering on discomfort with each other. As I get to know them better, the impression becomes stronger, and is reinforced by their behavior. Irritation seems just below the surface, and I wonder why that is. Is it because they feel they have made an unfortunate choice of partner, or perhaps that they were too hasty in deciding to remarry?

Some such couples I have encountered would certainly qualify for either premise. One woman I know had been happily married and was widowed in her fifties. She entered grief counseling, met a widower there and married him within three months! We continued to correspond at Christmas for a few years, and each letter from her would include pictures from here, there and everywhere – “Bill and I cruising to Alaska – This is us on safari in Africa etc, etc.” Making a home together seemed to be the last thing on their minds, and in the pictures they were never touching.

There is a component of grief that drives sufferers to remedy their loss and stop the hurting as rapidly as they can – make changes – start a new life - fill the void. But in truth it is the very worst time to make such decisions. One’s judgment is clouded by the turmoil of emotion and vulnerability, and dulled by depression. If, on the other hand, the death of a spouse is a cause for rejoicing, the pitfalls are still there, but for different reasons. Over exuberance is equally capable of distorting reality.

Another characteristic of grieving for many people is anger – the “Why me” syndrome. But anger can provide powerful protection from making bad decisions about new relationships. My own grieving experience was for a broken marriage, not the death of my wife, but I experienced all of the same manifestations and intensity, including the anger. Whilst the rage was unpleasant for me to deal with, in retrospect I feel it saved me from many a bad decision. Only my present wife loved me enough to help me get it out of my system.

Another important aspect of starting over, late in life, is the impact it has on friends and family. In my own case, my children from the two previous marriages thankfully embraced my present wife with no reservations. Likewise, my friends were also welcoming and supportive. But I think this is far from the norm. A late life remarriage is often bitterly divisive for both family and friends alike, and some of the wounds are never allowed to heal

The place where I live has a healthy cross section of age groups, unlike many Florida communities that are populated mainly by retirees, and some that are even age-restricted. Notwithstanding, my town has a fair number of sixty and over residents, many of whom are single. The search for a new partner is often overt and aggressive, and one gets the impression that the cry is “Success at any price.” Well, loneliness is a problem for some people, but an ill-considered liaison can be worse I think.

# # #