When I settled down to write my profile, I rapidly realised
that writing something an intelligent woman would find interesting was really
rather difficult. But I persevered and a couple of hours later I had come up
with the following:
‘Active, healthy, young-at-heart widower - who believes
that life was not meant to be lived alone - would like to meet a lady
interested in a serious relationship with a view to a life partnership. After a
long and happy marriage, I believe I know how a relationship works and how to
treat a lady. I am a one-woman man and I enjoy the simple things in life such
as a walk on the beach, coffee with friends, and good conversation. I also
enjoy visits to the theatre and eating at good restaurants. I play golf, and I
take pride in my personal appearance. I am a devoted family man, with 7
grandchildren. I am tee-total, but I have no objection to other people enjoying
a drink. The lady I seek will be comfortable within herself. She will take
pride in her personal appearance, and she will be articulate and well spoken.
Ideally, she will be a widow.’
I sat for a while reading what I had written, then typed it
into the box provided. A box popped up saying my profile would be reviewed by
the customer services team and that I should hear from them within a couple of
days.
Next, I had to come up with a photograph. I didn’t have a
recent one available, but in the photo software in my computer I found one I
had had taken professionally for a business function about three years earlier.
I was wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt and striped tie. I had always liked
this picture, and thought it entirely appropriate because I still regarded
myself as a businessman, even though I was retired. I transferred it to the
site. Most of the profiles I had seen included several photographs, but one
step at a time. I could add more if I needed to.
When I got to the Riseborough, I was distressed to see Liz lying
on her bed red in the face and sweating profusely. A nurse was wiping her face
with a damp cloth. She told me it was a reaction to a new medication the doctor
had put Liz on because she had started having seizures again. She said the
doctor had said to persevere, and that Liz should feel better when her system
got used to the medication. She straightened Liz’s bedclothes and left the
room.
I pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed. I took Liz’s
hand in mine. It was cold and clammy. Her eyes were glazed. I wasn’t sure she
was aware I was there. I didn’t know whether to leave, or stay. I stayed.
Extract from my book WILL YOU TELL HER, OR SHALL I? A true
story. My story. The story of how I lived with the ten-year terminal illness of
my wife. Also available on Amazon Kindle. www.amazon.com
Twitter: Maximillian19
FB: facebook.com/Booksthepublishersmissedcom
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