My husband’s mother was a widow for a long time and eventually ended up with a boyfriend, kind of a silly word for someone in their eighties, but I’m not sure what other one to use. She had been at a senior center, having a good time dancing with several of her women friends, when one of them said, “I wish there were some men here,” and suddenly added, “Look………….there’s one!” They rushed him. That guy must have felt like either the most popular man in South Florida or totally overwhelmed. At any rate, that was Ed, and he eventually became my mother-in-law’s boyfriend. I remember she had concern over public opinion because at eighty, he was two years younger than she was. He was a nice guy. He had been in the Air Force and served during World War II and wouldn’t set foot in a plane afterwards. He and my mother-in-law kept their separate condos but they had several years together and became very close as a couple. So much so that his will directed his cremated ashes go to her. One time when we were visiting her, she asked us if we would take the bag behind her recliner and “dump it in the lake” across the street. I asked her what was in the bag and she answered a little sheepishly, “Ed.” I was taken aback and asked, “Didn’t Ed really dislike water?” She admitted yes, he had, at which time I pointed out that might be something a tad disrespectful — not to mention illegal — to do. She grudgingly agreed.The next time we visited, the bag behind the chair was gone. When I asked, she said she had added the contents to the raised flower bed outside the condo. The next time we were there, the brick planter had been taken down and replaced with something else. We don’t know where Ed went next.
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