Dating a widow with kids

The first time I told a friend I was dating someone, she responded with: “It’s about time.”When I pointed out that Brock had died less than a year ago, she said: “You’ve been grieving for three years.” Fair point.

In fact, all the close friends I (eventually, nervously) confided in were happy for me.

They were glad I’d opened my heart again and found someone I liked that much.

This new relationship fizzled and flopped within weeks, but I learned a lot about myself from the experience.

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She’s been a widow since early motherhood, and in her house I saw just how great a widow’s life can be: the rooms of her home were full of her hobbies.

now I realize I’m only 38 years old and, yes, there might be a second Big Love in my future. In many ways my standards have been raised, thanks to Brock: I know what a healthy relationship looks like and I know how to be a good partner to a worthy man.

I’m perfectly happy on my own, so there’s no imperative to actively look for a relationship, or settle for less than I want or deserve.

In fact, I looked forward to being a happy nun for the rest of my life, spending my evenings building Lego sets and watching mysteries on Brit Box.

I would write, and bake cookies for our young son’s bake sales at school.

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