LOVE IN THE SECOND HALF OF LIFE

LOVE IN THE SECOND HALF OF LIFE Ever since I wrote Autumn Romance: Stories and Portraits of Love after 50, (it’s now on Kindle, a perfect Valentine’s gift), my radar picks up news about love and aging. I want to share my excitement about a movie that expanded my horizons on that subject—although that’s not what I expected from it; the film was a documentary about Eleanor Roosevelt

It was a story I thought I knew well: a shy girl, rejected by her mother, marries her handsome, ambitious cousin; evolves into a supreme helpmate when he’s elected President; becomes a world-famous activist for human rights. But I learned something new: at 63, Eleanor Roosevelt fell madly in love with a man she considered her soul mate.

It’s not a fact included in her usual biography. And it wasn’t a successful love story in the usual sense. Eleanor never had good luck in the romance department. Her father adored her but died young; FDR’s exceedingly private nature precluded emotional intimacy. But Eleanor’s affectionate nature craved intimacy. She developed intense friendships outside her marriage, but the core of her yearned for more. Then she moved to New York City, after FDR’s death, and met Dr. David Gurewitsch. Outstandingly handsome, 18 years Eleanor’s junior, Dr. Gurewitsch was at first her physician. A few years later, they found themselves together on an unexpected layover and realized they were kindred spirits. Because of the disparity in their age and appearance——and because Eleanor was revered as FDR’s widow—the world saw only a distinguished gentleman escorting Mrs. Roosevelt to her various engagements. But privately, the two were becoming paramount in each other’s lives. They had similar interests: a caring for others was their passion. Both were insatiably curious about the world. Eleanor felt like she’d discovered her long lost part. “I love you … as I have never loved anyone else,” she wrote in one of many adoring letters.

David loved her back. But he was not “in love”— and she was. They discussed this, as they discussed everything. “David dear …I know that you love youth and beauty ... and I would not want to keep you from these joys… [still] I would be so happy if there were ways you wanted me to do something for you. What I have in the few years I have left is yours.” They shared trips, a home, confidences, but never sex; still, Eleanor sometimes felt possessive or jealous. By all accounts, she was devastated when David married in 1955. She struggled with these feelings, trying always to feel love rather than resentment. She drew David’s young bride, Edna, into her loving circle—another great friendship—but the bond between Eleanor and David remained uniquely close, right up to her death in 1962. I found more of the story—and much fascinating history—in the book Kindred Souls: the Friendship of Eleanor Roosevelt and David Gurewitsch, affectionately written by Edna Gurewitsch. For example, I learned that Eleanor believed her ability to do great things for people at the end of her life was enhanced by the love she felt for one human being, David Gurewitsch. Despite a lifetime of personal loneliness, Eleanor made the amazing choice to feel and express passionate love, even as her physical self was winding down. To feel love that strong is the best miracle of life, Eleanor believed. So many life lessons here! When our soul is stirred—not just romantically, but by a friend, a neighbor, a grandchild— at whatever age, we should pour love into that connection unstintingly, with no expectations. A full open heart is like a beacon leading the way to more adventures.

Four Years Was Like a Lifetime

In the Addendum to Autumn Romance: Stories and Portraits of Love after 50, a section lists the many Advantages to an ‘autumn romance.’ But today I am aware of the one disadvantage — the love affair may be shorter than desired — because one of the individuals featured in Autumn Romance has just passed away.

Richard Passanante, the exuberant and loving partner of Dorothy Salvadore, died in Dot’s arms on Thursday, Sept.30, in Philadelphia.

I feel privileged to have shared Rich and Dorothy's love story in my book (pages 42 -45). Their photographs, by the incomparable Rebecca Barger, are so beautiful because you can see the love and devotion. You can see how their feelings transcend physical boundaries (both pics above by Rebecca Barger)

Rich and Dorothy knew well how to transcend physical limitations. Both were born blind. Both triumphed over steep obstacles; both knew how to see the joy in ordinary everyday moments. They were so delighted with life in general and each other in particular that anyone who saw them got happy.

Laughing was their favorite sport. Rich's humor was irreverent and rollicking. But he was also warmly wise. People could tell him their problems. He was a wonderful listener — and an astute gatherer of interesting facts.

Rich and Dorothy were one of the first interviews I did for Autumn Romance — at the Southwest Senior Center in 2007 — and even though I interviewed over 60 couples after them, I always knew they would be in the final version of the book. Their story--and their souls--were so special: I was exceedingly proud to share them with the world.

As life would have it, I never got around to doing a book signing at the wonderful Southwest Senior Center until just this past week, on Wednesday, Sept. 29. Rich and Dorothy weren’t there but I read their story and everyone smiled in recognition. Then I took off for St. Louis a few hours later. And the very next day, Rich died.

Dorothy gave me the news on Thursday night. The next evening, Friday, Oct. 1, I was scheduled to do a book signing at the University City Public Library in St. Louis. So I read Dorothy and Rich's story again and shared the reason why.

Among the small group at the St. Louis library hearing about Dorothy and Richard was a couple from Illinois — she was 80, he was 84 — who were going to be married three weeks hence. They announced their intention to love each other deeply in the time they had left.

Dorothy and Rich were together only four years. “Everyone thinks we were together longer because we went so well together,” she told me. “But those four years were like a lifetime, because of the love.”

With Dorothy’s permission, I am including her address, so that anyone who wants to, can acknowledge Richard Passanante and Rich and Dorothy's love story: DOROTHY SALVADORE, 3827 Powelton Avenue, Philadelphia, PA 19104

Twists and Turns

When I began this book tour, I expected adventures—but in the emotional area. Meeting new people. Getting to know new towns. Learning life lessons. And all that has happened and continues to.

But what also has occurred are physical adventures and these are my very least favorite kind.

I pictured driving cross country on highway 70, stopping at charming/ interesting places and then driving on—on a flat surface. What I never pictured was my worst nightmare: driving up a mountain on a skinny little road with no guardrail.

I have always avoided ANY activity where I would be up in the air, or, for that matter, tilted in any way, because all my life, I have been extremely afraid of heights. I skied only once and that provided a funny story for me and my best friend Kathy because I cried the whole way down a tiny little baby slope and never skiied again.

But two years ago, I married a man who loves mountains. So in our recent travels, when we left the adorable town of Ouray (second pic down,surrounded by mountains), and began a road that said “Pass,” I smiled and said, “Sure.” We had already been through a sudden snowstorm in a previous mountain pass (see pic). How bad could a mountain pass be?

This one was bad. My husband is an excellent driver, there were other cars on the road happily zooming along. But there were no guardrails, the car tilted seriously to the left, then the right, then the left again….my worst nightmare.

Fear is the worst, right? But the good news is I did it and I’m a little less fearful than I was before.

Once we left Denver, we encountered Adventures (pretty exciting for a mostly stay-at-home person like me). First was Glenwood Springs, CO, a town Warren (my husband) fell in love with many years ago and couldn't wait to introduce me to.

At the right is me when we first arrived. (The top photo is "After" one day there.) I'm gamely smiling but actually very grumpy inside. I couldn’t see the point: after traveling for miles, getting into a bathing suit on a chilly breezy day and sprinting for the pool. But soon I was a convert. There are two large pools, each fed by hot springs that have all kinds of healing properties. Once you're in the water, you feel like you're in a fairy tale because anywhere you look, there are mountains (which surround the town), beautiful foliage, gorgeous colors...

Inside the water it's fairy-tale-like as well. The pools are divided into areas that are sort of hot, not really hot, more hot, really hot, etc. There’s a cooler area where you can do laps. But you can swim anywhere...or do anything you want.

It reminded me of a movie—Last Year at Marienbad comes to mind, people dotting the water in every conceivable pose...Head against the tiled walls, feet sticking out of the water...engrossed in a book one arm is holding aloft (that was me)...giggling under the splashing faucets...really, everyone just wafting around blissfully.

And then there are all the conversations.

Glenwood Springs seems to attract the most fascinating people; I fell into one great conversation after the other. For a whole afternoon, I talked to a couple who ran a Wellness Spa called Reversaging in Breckenridge. The next day, we had a completely fascinating conversation with a couple from Denver, both psychic healers. The man who had just lost his job and had come to get perspective. A long conversation with the Glenwood Springs librarian who visits the pools every day.

Warren really wants to settle in Glenwood Springs but I think we will VISIT there a lot. The jury is still out on where we’re going to live.

Autumn Romance comes to Denver

I knew this trip would be different from anything I’ve ever done – it’s a book tour, for one thing!—but as we roll along, I find myself deeper and deeper in delight...overflowing with thoughts and feelingse…

From Kansas, a straight shot to Denver, CO, a special destination for two reasons: one, Warren’s three daughters, Debbie, Lisa and Becky, are there, along with Becky’s husband Pat and their beautiful kids, Ella (3) and Rex (7 months). And two, Judy and Vernon, the couple on page 15, live in Denver.

We met Judy and Vernon almost three years ago when we sat in their kitchen and heard their story. We immediately fell in love with these two “gentle people” (as they say in the book). Since then,lots of emails--just a few phone calls--each one filled with affection and sincere good wishes. A solid friendship formed. Now, we sat in that same kitchen, eating a delicious steak dinner prepared by Judy and talked and laughed and caught up. It was a unique reunion.

One thing I wanted to do was to take one of Judy’s line dance classes (she teaches at nine different senior centers). So when she invited me, I thought, “Oh good! It will be easy and I’ll see Judy in action.” Well, there was Judy in action: 70 years old, gracefully demonstrating one elaborate combination of steps after another. And there was I, out of breath and always going the wrong way. The kind of line dancing Judy does ain’t at all easy. (“No more treadmill," I vowed to myself. “Line dancing is great exercise--plus it's FUN.")

Two days later, we had a book signing at The Bookery Nook, a wonderful independent bookstore that Shannon and Gary Piserchio started one year ago. This is an awesome shop, cozy as a living room but impressive as a library. The owners know and love books. They also carry top quality puzzles and toys and art supplies for children.

But the arrangements had been made from St. Louis. So a lovely surprise: we drive up to find this cozy, lit-up shop...then go in to meet the incredibly gracious and friendly owners, see the flowers and chairs so artfully arranged, and half hour later, a full house at the signing!

Judy’s family helped. She is the youngest of 11 sisters—and 6 of them showed up, along with other relatives. (In the top photo, Judy is at right.) What a privilege to meet such sweet, elegant women who are so loving to each other…

Two of Warren’s daughters came to the Bookery Nook (there they are in the front row, Debbie in the red shirt, Lisa with the long dark hair. Talking to them about love from a woman's perspective—very exciting. I got to see another side of them and they of me, and Warren. It was very cool.

The Tattered Cover bookstore stocked 8 copies of Autumn Romance and so we stopped to say hello on our way out of town. And then we were off (I’ll tell you about the Scary Mountain Snowstorm and the Terrifying Mountain Pass in the next post.)

See lots of photo for the above at http://www.tinyurl.com/yf498O9

Small Town Life in the Middle of America

We have started a long-anticipated journey: a book tour across the country for Autumn Romance: Stories and Portraits of Love after 50, the book I began almost three years ago and published this past January.

The plan was to head west. For five months, my husband Warren and I had been living with his sister Nadyne in St. Louis. There were several couples in the book I’d never met in person and they all lived in stepping-stone states west of St. Louis—so the path seemed clear. We would visit Kansas, Colorado, Arizona, Nevada, Los Angeles and end up in San Francisco for my older daughter’s 40th birthday!

I had never seen much of the U.S. and certainly never done a book tour — so I was filled with trepidations as I cold-called bookstores in the targeted cities. But many were receptive and now very excited, we were off...(stopping one last time at White Castle for burgers and onion rings)...

My great luck: Warren PREFERS to drive. (Did my being a distracted driver influence him? Um, I don't think so...) I sit and dreamily take in the amazing sights. I keep hearing my voice say, “What an incredible country!” Yesterday, I burst out with: “Now I know what “Purple Mountain majesty” MEANS!”

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Driving through Kansas is all flat plains and farmlands (and beautiful). In Kansas City, we stopped in the Rainy Day Bookstore (one of the fabulous independent bookstores scattered like stars across the country) plus I did a reading at a very welcoming Borders. Then we drove to the tiny town of Lincoln (smack in the lower middle of Kansas), where Marguerite and George Miller live. Their story is on page 57 of Autumn Romance.

I met the Millers through a fellow newspaper editor, Jyll Phillips. Two and a half years ago, Jyll picked up an online feeler for more couples and with typical warm generosity, made sure I got in touch with Marguerite and George. When we came to town, she welcomed us into her home.

Lincoln is a fascinating place. It’s so small that volunteers fulfill many jobs that other municipalities would pay. So small that many citizens hold two or three positions. “One gal is the Human Resources Director for the county,” explains Jyll, “and also works part time at the grocery and also cleans a couple of office a week. Another woman works full time at the prison in Ellsworth, manages the VFW Bar and does the books for the Lincoln lumberyard!”

Is it the hard economic times or just contributing to the town’s running well?

Both, says Jyll. “Everybody is connected here, everybody counts.”

“Everybody” is pretty interesting, too. We got to know a bunch of Lincoln’s citizens when the Millers threw a book party in their old-fashioned-on-the-outside, House-Beautiful-on-the-inside home. Definitely magical: seeing George and Marguerite stand with their arms around each other as I read a story from the book aloud to their gathered friends, then talking to those friends in the Sunday late afternoon light. Meeting Joyce Harlow, the talented woman who photographed George and Marguerite for the book (and who also runs the town's Art Center)...

Afterwards, I sat around Marguerite’s kitchen table with a group of women. Life in Lincoln, they agreed, was special. The next morning, we walked the few blocks to Jyll’s office--the Lincoln Sentinel newspaper, on Lincoln’s Main Street. While she held leisurely conversations with each person we ran into, I thrilled to life in this town: almost Twilight Zone back to the 50s,so quiet and unhurried…

And then we were off, headed for Denver, CO.

p.s. You can see lots of photos of this visit on the the Autumn Romance Facebook Fan page!

.
When I was younger, I always dreamed of writing a book. Books were everything to me. They introduced me to words in graceful sentences that slowly became a part of me. They showed me how people could be loving and generous to each other, something I did not know.

The places where books were found--libraries and bookstores--were my favorite places to be. What would it be like, I wondered, to put my own thoughts into a book? A creative idea would sometimes come to me. But growing up, I took a wrong turn, and came to follow a path increasingly distant from my true self. Reading became an escape and writing a distant luxury.

I was 55 years old when a friend interrupted my usual complaints--life was awful, I needed a job--and said, not unkindly, “You’re such a good writer. Why don’t you just get a job as a writer?”

Two days later, I saw an ad, Writer Wanted, in the weekly newspaper that hit the door each Wednesday. I am not the sort who believes that everything happens for a reason, but whenever I recall that morning, I believe. A door opened, I walked through--into a dusty, old-fashioned newsroom--and the sun came out.

For the first time in my life I was joyfully in love with my work and this connected me to the world. Each story I covered connected me more strongly and I became free. Soon I was editor of that little paper, and when it got sold, I helped to found another, The Spirit, and ran it as editor-in-chief for three years. Ideas for books came into my head more frequently.

One day I had an idea that wouldn’t go away.

I was sitting at my desk at The Spirit when this thought flew into my mind: You never ever see photographs of older couples in love! All we ever see are young, perfect and famous people in love.

Wow, wouldn’t that make an interesting book, I thought: photographs of couples, each one 50 or over, and their love stories. Little did I know that the stories I would discover would be so amazing. Little did I know that I would fall in love myself one year later—at 62 years old—and that my story would be the last one in my book.

Because I decided to write that book come hell or high water. I adored the couples I was interviewing. I fervently believed that the world needed to hear their stories and see their photographs. And I was passionately in love with the idea...

My new husband got caught up in the whirlwind. Together, we traveled far and wide; together, we sat in strangers' living rooms and laughed and cried as we listened to their stories. And together we swooped up and down a roller coaster of learning curves.

When publishers said they thought it was a great idea but couldn't pick it up because there were no celebrities--I decided to self-publish. Of course, I had no idea how hard it would be. Sometimes I wondered, “What have I gotten us into?" But mostly, I was too happy to wonder. All the energy and skills and creativity I'd previously used for other things, now went into this book. I crafted each story more carefully than anything I'd ever done...

On January 12, 2010, I held my breath and opened the first box of books. Thank you Four Colour Printing! Thank you Sierra for designing it so beautifully!

We planned a book launch party for February in Philly but it was snowed out. And so it happened that on April 14, 2010, the publication of Autumn Romance was celebrated at The Free Library of Philadelphia--my beloved library, where I spent so much time. Old friends, new friends, people who helped create the book, couples who were in the book, all singing, all happily together, in my favorite place. It was magical, like the end of a movie!

I savored that once-in-a-lifetime feeling...and knew it was a beginning. The message of my book--that there are second chances, that love can be healing and transformative and glorious when it comes later--is a message I am eager to share. And that's what I'm about these days. We're on the first leg of a book tour, visiting the couples from the book who live in the western U.S. I will be doing book signings, reading aloud the incredibly hopeful stories from my book, and sharing all the adventures in this blog.