For years, I had convinced myself that the romantic part of my life was over.
At 60, I wasn’t looking for anyone. I had already lived through the kind of love people spend their whole lives hoping to find, and I had lost it.
My husband d:ied eight years ago.
After that, dating was something I couldn’t imagine, much less want. I had my memories, my home, my routines, and my son, Jason.
That felt like enough.
Then Richard came into my life.
He was 62, kind, funny, patient,
