How different this summer is from last. . .

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droughtLast year was the year of a terrible drought. It stopped raining somewhere around April, and didn’t rain again substantially until September. My ponds nearly disappeared – the one that is five acres of water went to a small mud puddle. And in my own life, as well, there was a drought. My husband had died suddenly the night of Friday the 13th in January, and I was utterly alone. Then to make matters worse, 2 1/2 months later, I fell and broke my left foot, shattering the metatarsal bones; the next day, using crutches, I fell and broke my left wrist in two places. For six weeks I was a cripple, and in pain; for weeks, I was unable to live in my house alone.

And the house, it was in transition. The rambling farmhouse where I had lived for 35 years, raised my daughter, helped Larry raise his sons – my house – was silent. I slowly began to put the pieces of my life back together, while my broken bones healed, and I changed the decor, bought myself flowers, and tried to don a brave face. Part of that was attempting to date again. I decided to use the Internet so I could “pick and choose.”  Unfortunately,  I found the whole thing somewhat disgusting. I enjoy meeting people, but some of these people were beyond the pale. I had no idea there were this many miscreants, liars, selfish jerks, and just plain low down characters in the world. But I was finding out.  Few were worthy of my time.  And the ones that were, well, they just weren’t right somehow. So I was about to give up on finding someone to date and go out with occasionally, just about the time I met Mike.

At first, Mike didn’t interest me much. He wasn’t that good looking in his photos, and he had health problems. But Mike was persistent. He continued to write, and he called, and he insisted that we meet. I reluctantly said yes, and we made plans to meet at Famous Dave’s in Rogers. I got out of my car and saw him immediately, a giant of a man standing by the door. To make a long story short, we did connect, and we became very close, and by Thanksgiving we knew we could make this work. The only problem was his terminal cancer. Unfortunately, in May of this year, Mike died. I was sad, and felt devastated at first. But then I began to realize that Mike W. had given me a great gift – the knowledge that I could love again, and that there could be a future for me with another man besides my husband who died in 2012.  So I went back online, this time being extremely careful to look for people who fit my exact criteria: men about my age, preferably widowed, who had similar interests, education, goals, and lifestyles. After a few misses (and there are always those, dear readers – no matter how hard you try to match up the possibles) I was lucky again. Another man named Michael, this time whose last name was also a ‘K,’ like mine.

Mike K. is amazingly perfect for me. And he says I’m perfect for him. What’s even more interesting, we have many more things in common than I had even dared to hope for. We are both into the mystical, with similar religious backgrounds (Methodist), and he reads even more than I do. And wonder of wonders, he matches me (and probably exceeds me, truth be told) in intelligence. To make the package even sweeter, Mike K. has a daughter about the same age as mine, and Heather is delightful.

So the long drought is over. The rains came and the ponds filled up, and I’ve put the farm up for sale. I’m moving 100 miles north, to be close to my Mike and Heather, and probably to live with them at some point. A new life looms for me, as it can for all of us, if we just keep the faith.


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