Lucy, youve lost your mind at this age! my sister Evelyn shouted when I told her I was getting married.
Were about to tie the knot in a week Tom and I have set the date so I thought I ought to let her know. Of course she wont make the ceremony; we live at opposite ends of the country, and we arent about to throw a noisy party with shouting How dreadful! at our sixties. Well just exchange vows quietly, just the two of us.
Tom insisted we actually get married. Hes a gentleman to the bone he holds the door open, offers his arm when I step out of the car, helps with my coat. He wont settle for a commonlaw relationship. Am I a boy? he asked me, I need something serious. To me he still feels like a boy, even with silver at his temples.
At work hes respected, always addressed by his forename and surname. There hes stern and professional, but when he sees me he seems to shed forty years. He pulls me into a hug and starts spinning me round in the middle of the street. Im flattered but also mortified. People will stare, I whisper. What people? he retorts. I only see you. When were together it truly feels like were the only two people on earth.
I still have to fill my sister in. I was scared Evelyn would join the choir of relatives condemning me, and I needed her support most of all. After a deep breath I rang her.
Lucy, she barked, her voice highpitched the moment she heard I was planning a wedding. Its only been a year since Victor was buried, and youve already found a replacement!
I knew the news would shock her, but I hadnt imagined her outrage would be about my late husband.
Evelyn, I remember, I interjected. Who sets these timelines? Can you give me a number? How long must I wait before I can be happy again without facing judgment?
She thought for a moment.
Decent people usually wait at least five years, she said.
So Im supposed to tell Tom, Sorry, come back in five years, and Ill stay in mourning till then? I asked. Evelyn fell silent.
What will that achieve? I pressed on. Do you really think five years will stop the gossip? There will always be those who love a scandal, but I honestly couldnt care less. Your opinion matters, thoughif you push, Ill scrap the whole wedding plan.
Honestly, Im not trying to be harsh, just get married today if you must! But I dont understand you, and I cant support you. Youve always been clever, but I never thought youd outlive your old self. Have a conscience, wait at least another year.
I wasnt about to give up.
You say wait a year. What if Tom and I have only one year left together? What then?
She snorted.
Do what you like. Everyone wants happiness, but youve lived a happy life already
I laughed.
Evelyn, seriously? You thought Id been happy all these years? I did, but only now realize Ive been a workhorse. I never knew life could be anything but duty.
Victor had been a good man. He and I raised two daughters, and now I have five grandchildren. He always said family was the most important thing, and I never argued. First we toiled for our own family, then for our childrens, then for our grandchildren. Looking back, it was a nonstop race for prosperity, with no lunch breaks.
When our eldest daughter married, we already owned a cottage, but Victor wanted to expand, raising livestock for the grandchildren. We rented a hectare, took on the burden of feeding the herd, rose at five in the morning, and spent most of the year on the farm, rarely visiting the city except for necessities. My friends would brag about trips to the seaside or nights at the theatre, while I couldnt even get to the grocery shop.
There were weeks when we went without bread because the cows tied us down. The only thing that kept me going was a full belly for the kids and grandkids. The older daughter swapped her car for a farm truck, the younger one renovated the house all proof that our hard work wasnt in vain. One day a former colleague visited and said, Lucy, I didnt recognise you. I thought you were out in the fresh air, recharging. You look halfdead! Why torture yourself?
Because the children need help, I replied.
Kids will manage themselves; you should live for yourself.
I didnt understand what living for yourself meant then, but now I do: sleep whenever I want, stroll through shops, watch a film, swim, ski. No one suffers because of it. The children arent poorer, the grandchildren arent hungry. Most of all, Ive learned to see everyday things with fresh eyes.
Before, gathering fallen leaves at the cottage felt like a chore, a pile of rubbish. Now the same leaves brighten my mood. I walk through the park, kick them about, and feel like a child again. Ive learned to love the rain, not by shooing goats under the eaves, but by watching it from a cosy café window. I finally notice how spectacular our clouds and sunsets can be, how pleasant it is to crunch over fresh snow, and how lovely my town really is all thanks to Tom.
After Victors sudden heart attack, he died before the ambulance arrived. The kids sold the farm and the cottage and hauled me back to the city. The first days I wandered like a lunatic, not knowing what to do. I kept waking at five, pacing the flat, wondering where to go.
When Tom entered my life, I remember our first walk together. He turned out to be a neighbour and a friend of my soninlaw, helping move furniture from the cottage. He admitted hed never thought of me at first, but seeing a forlorn woman, he felt sorry and decided to pull me out of my depression. He took me to a park for fresh air, bought icecream, and suggested a stroll to the pond to feed the ducks. Id tended ducks on the farm, but never had a moment just to watch them. Theyre hilarious, bobbing about for breadcrumbs.
Cant believe you can just stand and watch ducks, I said. Back then I never had time to enjoy them, only to feed, clean, and collect eggs. Now I can just stare.
Tom smiled, took my hand and said, Wait, Ill show you a world of wonders. Youll feel reborn. He was right. Like a child, I discovered new delights every day, and the past seemed a distant dream. I cant pinpoint when I realized I was crazy about Tom his voice, his laugh, his gentle touch. Now I cant imagine life without him.
My daughters werent thrilled about our relationship, accusing me of betraying Victors memory. It hurt, and I felt guilty. Toms children, however, were delighted, saying they finally felt peace about their father. All that remained was to tell Evelyn, and I kept postponing it.
Whens the wedding? she asked after our long chat.
This Friday.
What can I say? Happiness and love in old age, she replied coolly.
On Friday Tom and I bought groceries for two, dressed up, called a taxi, and headed to the register office. As we stepped out of the car, I froze: at the entrance stood my daughters with their husbands and grandchildren, Toms kids with their families, and, most importantly, my sister Evelyn holding a bouquet of white roses, tears glistening.
Lucy! Did you fly in just for me? I gasped.
I have to see who Im handing you over to, she laughed.
It turned out that in the days leading up to the wedding, everyone had booked a table at a café and coordinated over the phone.
A few weeks later we marked the anniversary of our wedding. Tom is now everybodys uncle, and I still cant believe this is happening. Im so absurdly happy it feels almost unreal.
