Lucy, have you lost your marbles in your old age? Your grandchildren are already in schoolwhats all this about a wedding? Thats exactly what my sister said when I told her I was getting married.
But honestly, what are we waiting for? In a week, Tony and I will be tying the knot, so of course I needed to let my sister know. She lives at the other end of the country, so she wont be coming to the ceremony. Besides, were in no mood for a big do with all the cheers and shouts of Kiss!not at sixty. Well keep it low-key, just sign the papers and have a quiet evening together.
We could have left off the formalities, but Tony is insistent. Hes a proper gentleman through and through. Holds the door open for me, offers his arm when I climb out of the car, helps me on with my coat. He wont stand for living together without that official mark in our passports. He said, Lucy, Im not a boy anymore. I want something serious. Honestly, to me, he sometimes feels just like a boy, even with his grey hair. At work, everyone respects him, always calls him Mr. Thompson. At home, hes completely differentserious and stern with others, but the moment he sees me, he seems to shed forty years. Hell grab me for a whirl right in the middle of the street. It makes me happy but a bit embarrassed. I say, Everyones looking! Theyll think were mad. And he says, Who? I cant see anyone but you! When were together, it really does feel like theres no one else on the planet, just the two of us.
Still, I had my sister, my closest confidant, who I needed to tell everything to. I worried that Janet, like many others, would disapprove. More than anything, I needed her support. In the end, I plucked up the courage and called her.
Lucy she drawled, her voice full of disbelief, when she heard what Id planned. Its been just a year since we buried David, and youve already found someone new! I knew my news would shock her, but I hadnt expected my late husband to be the sticking point.
Janet, I interrupted. I remember. But who sets the rules for all this? Can you name the number? At what point am I allowed to be happy again without being judged?
Janet paused, thinking. Well, to keep up good appearances, you ought to wait at least five years.
So, you want me to tell Tony, Sorry, come back in five years, Ive still got my mourning to do?
She went quiet.
And what would that achieve? I went on. Do you really think, after five years, no one would wag their tongues? Therell always be those with nasty things to say, but honestly, I couldnt care less about them. Its your opinion that matters, and if you insist, Ill call the wedding off.
Look, I dont want to be the bad guymarry him tomorrow for all I care! Just know I dont understand and I cant support it. Youve always done things your own way, but I never thought youd become totally daft with age. Really, have a bit of decencywait at least one more year.
But I held my ground. You’re saying to wait another year. But what if Tony and I only have a year left together? Then what?
Janet gave a big sniff through her nose.
Oh, do what you like. I get it, everyone wants to be happy, but you had a good life for so many years…
I laughed out loud.
Honestly, Janet? You honestly thought I was happy all those years? Well, so did I. Its only now I realise what I really was: a workhorse. I never knew life could be any differentactually joyful!
David was a good man. We raised two daughters; now Ive got five grandchildren. He always drilled into me that family was what mattered most. And I never argued. First, we worked ourselves into the ground for our family, then for our daughters families, then for the grandchildren. Looking back, my whole life was a mad race for comfort, with never even a lunch break. When our eldest got married, we already had a little house in the countryside, but David decided we needed to expand, rear some animals for the grandchildren.
So we rented a field and yoked ourselves to work for years. David bought livestock; they needed constant feeding and looking after. Never in bed before midnight, and always up by five in the morning. We lived on the allotment all year, only heading to town for essential errands. Occasionally, Id have a chance to ring my friends, who would boastone just back from the seaside with her granddaughter, another off to the theatre with her husband. Me? I hardly made it to the shops!
There were days we went without bread, tied down by all the animals. The only comfort was seeing the children and grandkids well fed. Our eldest swapped her car for a better one because of our help, the youngest managed a flat renovationall proof that our toil wasnt wasted. Once, my old colleague came to visit and said, Lucy, I barely recognised you. I thought youd be resting here, taking in the fresh air. But you look exhausted! Why put yourself through this?
How else would the kids manage without help? I replied.
She shook her head. Theyre grown, Lucythey manage! Why dont you live a little for yourself?
At the time, I genuinely didnt understand what live for myself meant. But now I do. Now, I know life can be differentyou can sleep as long as you want, browse the shops, see a film, go swimming, ski. And nobodys worse off! The children arent struggling, the grandkids arent hungry. Most importantly, I started seeing everything in a new light.
Before, raking the autumn leaves at the allotment annoyed me for the mess. Now, those same leaves lift my spirits. Ill walk through the park, kick them up with my feet and feel as giddy as a child. I love the rain nowno need to run about getting the goats under shelterI can just watch it through the café window. Ive finally noticed how stunning the clouds and sunsets can be, how delightful it is to simply walk on crunchy snow. And its Tony who opened my eyes to all of this.
After my husband died, it was all a blur. It happened so suddenlya heart attack, David gone before the ambulance could even arrive. The girls sold off the animals, the allotment, and moved me back into town. The first days I wandered around in a daze, having no idea what to do with myself. Still waking at five, Id pace the flat, completely lost.
Then Tony came into my life. I remember the first time he took me for a walk. He was my neighbour, and already a friend of my son-in-lawhed helped us move things from the allotment. He admitted later, at first he had no interest in me romantically. All he saw was a tired, lifeless woman, and he just felt sorry for me. But he said he could sense a spark, someone who just needed a gentle nudge from depression. He took me to the park for some fresh air. We sat on a bench, Tony bought me an ice cream, then suggested walking to the pond to feed the ducks. Id kept ducks for years, but never had a moment to simply watch them. Turns out theyre absolutely hilarious, diving for bread!
Its hard to believe you can just stand here and watch ducks, I told him. Ours always kept me too busysoaking their grain, mixing mash, feeding and cleaning. Here, I just get to watch.
Tony smiled, took hold of my hand, and said, Wait and seetheres so many more new things Ill show you. Itll feel like youre being born again.
He was right. I felt like a child, discovering the world anew, loving every bit of it. The past began to seem like a heavy, exhausting dream. I dont even remember exactly when I realised how deeply I needed Tonyhis voice, his laughter, the little moments of touch. I just woke up one day knowing this was all real and truly mine, and I could never go back.
My daughters were furious at first. They said I was betraying their fathers memory. It hurt so much; I felt guilty, as though I was cheating on them. Tonys children, on the other hand, were delighted; theyre glad to see their dad happy, at peace. Only my sister was left to tell, and Id dreaded that bit the most.
So, Janet asked after our long talk, whens the wedding?
This Friday.
Well, Ive nothing much to say. Love and happiness to you in your golden years, she said, then hung up.
On Friday, Tony and I bought some food just for us, dressed up, called a cab, and set off for the registry office. As we got out, I stood there, speechless at the surprise: at the entrance stood my daughters with their husbands and children, Tonys family, andmost wonderful of allmy sister! Janet held a huge bunch of white roses and beamed at me through her tears.
Janet! You came all this way for me? I could hardly believe what I was seeing.
I needed to check who I was handing you over to, didnt I? she laughed.
Turns out theyd all been in touch behind my back and had booked a table at a café for us to celebrate.
The other day, Tony and I celebrated our first anniversary. Hes firmly part of the family now. Sometimes I still cant quite believe this is my lifeit almost feels indecent to be this happy. But oh, how grateful I am.
