A great romance can flourish anywhere—and at any age.
MY FIRST WEDDING was a gorgeous affair. It was 1953 and my high-school sweetheart, Victor, had finally proposed after more than a decade of courtship. Vic spent several years in the Canadian Army overseas during WWII and so we had to wait. We married in a large Baptist church in Toronto, Canada; I wore an ivory silk dress with lace embroidery and a pillbox hat. At 32, I thought I was an old bride.
For 42 years, our life was full. We bought a little bungalow in Etobicoke, Ontario, with a small herb garden and a pond outback and raised two boys, Christopher and Timothy. Vic worked as an accountant and when the kids were older, I was ordained as a Baptist minister and took a job as a hospital chaplain. In 1995, at age 76, Vic died after a long and painful bout of emphysema. The loss was devastating, but I was grateful we’d had so many decades together.
After Vic ’s death, I lived by myself for 10 years. Towards the end of that stint, the loneliness started to get to me. I craved friendship and excitement and noise. A cousin of mine lived at Toronto’s Chartwell Grenadier Retirement Residence and I decided to join her. I had my own suite with a bathroom and kitchenette. It took some time to get used to being around people all the time, but I came to love the movie nights and ice-cream socials. The place was like summer camp for grown-ups.
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BOOKS
Books review
STUDIO - Off Lamington Road by Gieve Patel
Oil on Canvas, 54 x 88 in
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THE SNAKE CHARMERS
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Sisterhood to Last a Lifetime
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...TO DIE ON A HOCKEY RINK
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Just Sit Tight
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Allow Me to Mansplain...
If there's one thing we know, it's this: We're a nation of know-it-alls
THE BITTER TRUTH ABOUT SUGAR (AND SUGAR SUBSTITUTES!)
It's no secret that we have a serious addiction. Here's how to cut back on the sweet stuff, once and for all.