We met in a hospital in the Midwest. He came there as a as a management consultant, AKA efficiency expert, I had a position in the records department. The project would keep him on site for three months, evaluating and later installing new systems.
We were both divorced, both had been dumped, both struggling somewhat with the whole dating scene. We were immediately attracted to each other, but being the kind of person he was, he followed the rules of not dating the client’s employees. Towards the end of the project, I invited him to come to a bar where I was going to be with some friends one night. I was actually surprised when he showed up. He bought me more than a few drinks and I challenged him to take me on a “real” date.
Not sure how that got arranged, but when the job ended instead of returning immediately to his home in New York he spent a holiday weekend with me. Before leaving for the airport he promised he would come back for my birthday to visit. The new relationship continued, letters, cards, maybe one long distance phone call a week. (This was 1972, no cell phones, no internet, no Skype, not so easy for sure.)
Please understand, I was a Midwestern divorcee with two kids, a house in suburbs, and a dog and a cat. He was a city boy, from Long Island, traveling around the country as a consultant; an only child that had never been around big families or kids. It was totally impossible to think there could ever be a permanent relationship. But there was love.
True to his engineer personality, planning, organizing, and one step at a time, he worked on it. And I waited. Somehow, he made it happen. He arranged his work flights to come to see me when he could. After a few months he relocated to Kansas City, then started looking for a local job. Only after that happened and we had some time in a more normal dating relationship did he talk about marriage.
The new job was with a company that had great benefits. After about 17 years of marriage we started talking about early retirement, with a seven year plan. At his age of 55 we both retired. We traveled, spent the winter in Texas, and had a wonderful time. I had landed a part time work gig, which provided some extra play money, which we took advantage of.
He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer right after his 67th birthday. We were in Texas at the time and were able to take advantage of MD Anderson in Houston for the initial treatment. He lived 19 months, a long time for that diagnosis. We had some breaks where he felt pretty good, but of course the end was pretty clear when the attempt at surgery failed. As well as he had taken care of me over those many years, I was now the strong one, guiding our way through the health care system as well as taking the role of caregiver. My strong, intelligent, and always in control man had met something he couldn’t figure out and beat, and emotionally he did not do well with that. However, he was fiercely independent until the very end, and took care of himself and “his” chores around the house. Obviously the end was ugly, but mercifully briefer than it could have been.
My Steve was a complex man who had very simple needs. He loved to fish, the outdoors, taking me out to eat, good wine, reading (news, science fiction, books about the universe), traveling with me, and his cat. In later years he often told me I was the best thing that ever happened to him and he didn’t know why I put up with him, but was so grateful for it. He loved my children and later grandchildren, but was not particularly good about showing it.
He was extremely honest, fair with people, and tried to be a good person. He was smart, an engineer by training, and a systems analyst in his later career. A hard worker, he did well in his career and mentored many. After retiring he found a volunteer position at the Truman Library and spent over 2,000 hours helping put their oral histories on the internet.
He was an introvert though most people didn’t know it since when he was having a good time he could be loud. He loved to debate the issues of the day and we had many heated conversations, though our political opinions were not really that different. But sitting outside in a pretty day, reading the paper or a book was equally a good time and necessary for him to be happy. As a couple we had a lot of “spaces in our togetherness”.
My family (four brothers) were good hearted people, hardworking, mostly blue collar workers. I don’t think they ever understood how their sister could get involved with and marry an engineer from New York.
We were together 40 years. Partners, lovers, soul mates and best friends. We were like ying and yang, him being the steady, organized engineer type and me being… oh well. We balanced and completed each other. He provided order to my life and I like to tell people that I provided “texture” to his. He fully supported me in completing my education and having a career, and I grew and blossomed in the years we were together. I think I taught him how to have fun, try new things, and be more flexible in day to day living. I would come up with an idea and then he would make it “happen”. While like other couples we had our ups and downs, the relationship worked well. He was good to me, and I couldn’t have loved him more.
With the diagnosis of cancer I had time to get used to the idea of not having him. It will be two years on the 25th. The numbness has passed, I am functioning well but many days the grief is as harsh and intense as it was. I’m still seeing the therapist that we had from the Cancer Center. It is a great comfort that she knew him and was there for us during that journey.
When we made the decision to retire early, it was with the knowledge that we wouldn’t have as much money later. Had he worked to full retirement he would have been diagnosed shortly afterwards. I would not trade the eleven or so wonderful healthy years for any of those extra $$$. (Of course, with Steve being Steve, I was still left with more than enough to have a good life.)
So many think that I should be over it by now, tell me I should get on with my life. But I miss him terribly, still. I would close by saying I was blessed to find him and so much luckier than many to have that special kind of marriage that is so rarely seen. Someday I hope that the wonderful memories will overtake the grief, and figure it will come eventually.
The therapist told me that it would help if I did something to honor his memory on the anniversary of his death. So this is to you my Steve.
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