One day the phone rang as I was unpacking boxes; I had just moved into a new apartment as a single mom with my son, Ben. It was my good friend and message therapist, Meg. She told me she knows a guy that I might want to meet. Would it be OK if she gave him my number? she asked. With much trepidation, since I was just recently divorced, was working full time, had just moved, and was raising my two year old son as a single mom, I said, OK, but only if she made it clear to him that I have no interest in a serious relationship. I would be willing to grab a meal or catch a movie, I explained.
A few days later the phone rang and it was this stranger, Gary, on the other end of the phone. We had a good chat. He seemed nice enough. Then he asked me if I would like to get together. I told him that would be fine but could he please call me back in a month. Surrounded by boxes, I was overwhelmed in our new apartment. With that, we got off the phone.
Exactly one month later the phone rang. It was Gary again. He asked if I wanted to come to Lincoln Park for a day at the zoo and a bite to eat. I agreed.
We rendezvoused at his place. We walked, talked, laughed, ate, visited with the animals. I knew that day we shared a special connection. Never in a million years did I imagine that 30 years later we would still be sharing good times together.
Thank you, Meg, for introducing me to my Beshert. Such a loving, kind, honest, fun, smart, romantic man named Gary.
Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t all been fun, that is for sure. Work and worries, joy and sorrow, dealing with small and big problems, navigating compromise – oh so much compromise, these years together.
But in the end, I feel like I am one of the luckiest gals around, to have partnered thirty years of my life with this man.
From the bottom of my heart, from the core of my being, I pray that some courageous, loving, generous person will step up and share their spare with my wonderful husband, my Beshert.
We have so much more life to share together, if we are just given the chance.