We met in the Phoenix airport, two widows waiting to change planes to go home to spend the holidays with their families.
She was a well-preserved 78, with well coiffed blond hair, a fit body in neat travel clothes and smashing boots. Introducing herself as Edna, she explained she was on her way to Montana to be with her four children and their families, and then was returning to her winter home until Easter.
“I was widowed twice,” she explained.” My first husband and I were married 25 years. I nursed him through Cancer and soon after he died I married again. My second husband died after 11 years just a few months ago.
She decided to return to AZ as always and was pleasantly surprised when her neighbors introduced her to a newly widowed man I the neighborhood.
“We’ve been having a wonderful time and it’s nice to have a companion again,” she explained. “I really enjoy his company and he has a Jeep- and we drive up into the mountains and across the desert for picnics. He’s swell”
But like many men in his generation, he would love to have Edna move into his home because he simply doesn’t know how to run it.
“But I won’t move in with anyone. You know the joke; I won’t be a nurse or a purse again. I love being alone, doing what I want to do when I want to do it—and not ever having to do what I don’t want to do anymore!”
It’s something to think about. In most cases, the women make more compromise when they give up independence to live with someone else.
Is there really enough strong love to overcome those sacrifices?
Let us know if you agree with Edna.