Jon After Eva: An Epilogue

Author's Note: I originally planned on ending Jon's story when Eva passed away. But I loved writing about them from Jon's point of view, and then I thought about what would happen to Jon with possibly two decades ahead of him? He's healthy at 72 when Eva died. As devoted as he was to his wife, after an appropriate amount of time spent mourning her passing, should he be alone? Would Eva have wanted that for him? How would he react to an opportunity to be with another special woman? So I decided to give this epilogue a try. Some of you may hate the idea, thinking I should have left him to be alone. But others may want to see what is still ahead for Jon. So, for better or worse, here is Jon's postscript to his life with Eva. I hope you enjoy this.

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I lost my beloved Eva, the only woman I ever loved, my wife of 53 years, when we were both 72. She had been sick for about three years by then with Alzheimer's Disease, but the worst times were the last year and a half, when the vibrant, brilliant and beautiful woman who was my wife and the mother and grandmother of our children and grandchildren, faded out as the person she was. For her last year, I visited her body every day in the nursing home, but the spark that made her who she was had been extinguished. Most days it was like visiting a blank page. But I loved her as much as ever. Nothing could extinguish that spark in my heart.

I sold our house in Durham in July because Eva was buried back in Wayne, PA, where we spent most of our lives together, and I wanted to be closer to her so I could visit her whenever I wanted. I found a nice condo in an adult community (for well to do residents over 50). I was near my sister Cammy (Camilla) and her husband Kyle, Vince and his husband Jamaal were not far in Maryland with their adopted son Gregory, and Rachel and her husband Tony were still in Chicago, where she was an accomplished concert pianist, and their daughter Sam, now 4, was a budding musician like her mother had been. Our eldest, Connor, and his wife Nancy and their 11 year old son Charles lived in Seattle where they were both professors at U of Washington. His son Oliver from his marriage to his first wife, was a computer scientist at one of the tech companies there. And my youngest (and my slight favorite) Maria and her husband Max still lived in the Durham area, where they owned two auto repair shops, with their daughter Laura (Daniel and Lena came later). As I've said before, it's a testament to Eva that our children all are living good lives with their own families.

I got together with Cammy a couple of times a week, sometimes alone, sometimes with Kyle and other friends. I saw my old friend Larry once a week or so. He sold his interest in his restaurant business a couple of years back and had time to get together, sometimes for dinner, sometimes we took in a ball game. I made other friends in my new community, people I could go to dinner or a movie with. Sometimes in a group, sometimes with just one other person. I met a few women who were widows or divorcees, but I really wasn't interested in anything more than friendship. I had my great love. It couldn't happen again.

I still played tennis with some friends I met where I lived, and there was an indoor pool for year-round exercise, so I was in good shape and good health again after I had let myself go while I was taking care of Eva. My doctor warned me I was in danger of dying before Eva, and I didn't want to risk that, leaving her alone in her state. I didn't want my kids to have to give up their lives to care for their mother if I was gone.

I started volunteering at a public school in North Philadelphia, 3 days a week. With my background as a former principal, the Board of Education was pleased to have me and my skills in one of their middle schools. It was tough as hell at first; I had worked for almost 40 years, first in a good neighborhood public school when I graduated from college, and then in two private schools. The school I was assigned to was in a tough neighborhood and it was an interesting adjustment. But after a few frustrating months where I thought about giving it up, I got the hang of working with these kids. It filled my time and gave me a sense of fulfillment.

Nights were harder. I hated sleeping alone. I'm not referring to sex, though I did miss that (I was in good health again and I still had my desires), but I missed pillow talk and cuddling with a woman. Having someone to sing to, play my guitar for. I had spent over 50 years sharing a bed with Eva, and I didn't get used to being alone at night in the year she was in the nursing home and the year and a half since she died.

I spent time visiting my kids in other parts of the country and sometimes they came to see me. I even went with Rachel once when she traveled to Salzburg, Austria, when she performed at the annual Mozart festival. It was even more exciting than when the family went to see her at Carnegie Hall. Tony and Samantha (Sam) were there as well, as were Cammy and Kyle. So life, overall, was busy. But still...

Some of the women I met were very interested in me. Some I found attractive physically, most were educated and interesting to some degree. It was nice to have dinner companions, especially female. I enjoy a woman's company sometimes. But I didn't meet anyone I was interested in beyond that. Until November of 2034, when I was almost 74. That's when I met Olivia Camarena.

People moved in and out of the community I lived in at a faster rate than was typical for your average neighborhood. Simply, living in an adult community meant people died at a quicker rate, so condos were usually sold by the surviving family when there was no partner left behind. Even though this was a very upscale community (therefore, expensive), there was no shortage of people looking to live there. We had our own movies and live theatre, a few very good restaurants, a club for dinners and special occasions, lectures and lessons. It really was a very nice place to live.

One day I was at the pool with a few of men I was friendly with when we saw a new woman enter from the locker rooms. I say "woman" but really, she was a "lady", in every sense of the word. She was relatively tall, about 5'8", very slender and elegant, with dark complexion and silver hair in a short, well styled cut. She walked with confidence with straight posture. She passed by my group and smiled at us, not a teasing or flirting smile. Just polite and friendly. She wore a red wrap around her body, but she had nice, long legs that, as a healthy male, I appreciated. She sat about 20 feet away and took out her tablet and plugged in headphones and read a book under the artificial sunlight that was provided by a lamp over each lounge chair if you desired.

Me and my friends, Dale, Jerry, Tony and Tre, all noticed her. Dale was still married, but Jerry and Tre were single (both long divorced). We all still appreciated an attractive woman, even Tony, who was openly gay. And when she took off the wrap to go swimming, in a form fitting silver one piece bathing suit... well, attractive didn't begin to do her justice. Her tummy was flat, her bosom was small but there. When she dived into the pool, she had excellent form, a smooth dive and a good stroke. Nice tush, too. I was actually a little ashamed of myself for checking her out so shamelessly like a dirty old man.

Being men, even if we were in our 60s and 70s, there was a little talk about the new 'talent'. It wasn't crude, but I wasn't used to talking about a woman like that. I hadn't been so physically attracted to a woman I saw for the first time since I met Eva all those years ago. So while my friends talked as if they were teens, I was silent. I felt like it was very inappropriate (it was, really, though not graphic) and in my heart, I was still in love with Eva. Looking at another woman the way I saw this stranger made me feel like I was being unfaithful.

Over the next few weeks, I saw her a number of times around the complex,' and we always smiled pleasantly at each other and after a while we even started saying hello when we met. I noticed she made friends with a few women I knew socially. But so far we hadn't formally met. That changed the weekend before Christmas.

The restaurant in the 'club' on the premises was pretty casual during the week, but if you went on the weekend, Saturday and Sunday nights, you were expected to dress for dinner. For men, that meant jacket, button down shirt and tie. Since we were almost all formerly professional men and women, we knew how to dress appropriately. For me, that Saturday before Christmas (it was a party that night, with live music), that meant one of my Brooks Brothers dark suits, a white shirt and a striped tie. Classic conservative. Since I knew most of the other residents to some degree, I went by myself at 8, knowing I'd get seated randomly at a table for eight. Sometimes I got seated with people I didn't get along with, but usually it worked out just fine.

That night it worked out better than fine. Phil, the maitre d', brought me to a table that just were seated right before I got there. 2 married couples, one casual couple...and the new lady. I knew the other three couples to varying degrees and Julie, one of the married women, said "Jon, have you met Olivia yet?" She looked up and me and gave a killer smile, perfect white teeth and light color lipstick. Big, dark eyes that were sparkling. And she wore a satin dark green dress that was just perfect on her.

"Well, we've seen each other around, but we haven't been introduced yet. Hello, I'm Jon Grossman." I offered my hand and she took it, long fingers, very elegant.

"Hello. I'm Olivia Camarena. It's nice to finally meet you." Man, my heart skipped a beat or two. There was something in her touch as well as her smile. I sat next to her and from that moment on, we talked almost exclusively to each other, almost ignoring the others at our table. At least none of them seemed to mind.

We talked about our lives between courses. She was 68 but even with the silver hair, she looked ten years younger. She and her late husband, Tomas, owned an accountancy agency which she sold when he died from a heart attack six years before. Her parents were born in Mexico and moved to Virginia before she was born, and that's where she grew up. She went to Penn on a scholarship and then did a graduate semester in Mexico City, where she met Tomas. They fell in love and he came to the states to be with her a year later. Like me and Eva, they had a very loving marriage, 37 years. They had two children, two daughters, Anita and Pillar, and she had three grandchildren, with one on the way.

Our stories came out during dinner and during a few turns on the dance floor. Olivia was a graceful dancer, smooth moves and very lithe. It felt great to hold a woman in my arms on the dance floor, to feel her body close and warm. It was a wonderful evening, the best I'd had in years.

I escorted Olivia home (after we apologized to the other diners for ignoring them most of the night). It was chilly and she walked close to me. It was a short walk to her building, about a five minute walk, and we talked a little more. When we got to her door, for the first time all evening I was feeling tongue tied. There was a part of me that wanted to ask her for a date and yet.. my last first date had been over 55 years before. I was out of practice to say the least.

She could tell I was trying to say it. "Jon, I had a lovely evening. Do you mind if I tell you something?"

"Of course not, Olivia. You can tell me whatever you want."

"I was hoping to see you at dinner. I asked the matire d', when we arrived, if you were there yet and when he told me no, I asked him to seat you at our table if you came." Her smile was dazzling me.

"You knew my name? How did you know?"

"That day at the pool, the first time we saw each other. I noticed how you looked at me, appreciative but shy. Not dirty in any way. It was very sweet." I blushed and she laughed lightly, not at me. "So I asked about you, a couple of the women I met later that afternoon. I think one was actually jealous." Her eyes were sparkling with mischief.

"That's an incredible compliment, Olivia. Maybe more than I deserve. But I would like to take you out this week if you'd like. Monday is Christmas. How about Wednesday night?"

"Wednesday would be fine, Jon. Thank you for such a lovely evening." I gave her my phone and she entered her number so we could set a time after Christmas. I left without kissing her goodnight but I walked home feeling like I was floating.

When I got home, however, reality set in. On the credenza in the hallway by my front door were a bunch of framed photos that greeted me whenever I came in. Pictures of my children and their families, of my children and grandchildren individually. And of course, pictures of Eva, with me and a few by herself. Our wedding picture. Pictures of us on vacations and from when we worked together. The love of my life. I sat down heavily on the couch and cried. I moaned out loud "Oh God, what the hell am I doing!?"

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The next day, Sunday, I seriously thought about calling Olivia and apologizing, to tell her I couldn't take her out. It was just too much. Then I remembered how much I enjoyed talking and dancing with her the night before, and I just didn't know what to do. I made coffee and toast and grabbed a yogurt and sat down to have my breakfast and think things over. When I was halfway through, my phone rang. Cammy. Like she knew I needed her. My sister, my best friend and the most level headed person I knew. God bless her.

"Hey sis. I am really glad to hear from you this morning. Like you wouldn't believe."

"Oh? Are you ok, Jon? Something wrong?"

"Not wrong. But I had an experience last night... is there any chance you're free this afternoon? I'd rather talk about it in person, if possible."

"Sure. Come over after 1. We'll have a little wine and cheese. Mind if Kyle is there?"

"Never. He's family, Cammy." I loved my brother-in-law, now married to Cammy for over 30 years. I hung up and felt a little better. If anyone could help me figure out the right thing to do, it was my smart and loving sister.

I got there on time and, after making small talk, catching me up on her daughter Anna and bringing her up to date on her nieces and nephews, I got to what was bothering me. I told her how I met Olivia and how we made plans for Wednesday night, and then I told her how seeing all those pics of Eva, from our wedding day to our 50th anniversary, made the whole idea of a date seem like a bad idea. "Cammy, I'm still in love with Eva. I think I always will be. I can't imagine trying to feel anything like that for anyone else. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for this. Besides, I haven't had a date in over 50 years."

Kyle let his wife do the talking. She knew me better than anyone now. "Jon, you know how much I love you and how much I loved Eva. Like a sister and like she was my mother. Losing her was incredibly painful for me as well as for you and your children. Let me put it to you two ways. First, you don't have to fall in love with Olivia to take her out and enjoy her company. You don't have to fall in love with her to sleep with her either." I was now past the point of feeling uncomfortable talking with her about sex, thank goodness. "If things progress to that point, you shouldn't feel guilty. You're still healthy enough to enjoy sex, right?" She asked earnestly, not trying to break my balls.

"Yes, I still feel the urges and I can respond to an attractive woman. And the only medication I take are a daily low dose aspirin and a statin for cholesterol. So yes, I'm feeling good."

She smiled at me and took my hand. "I'm going to tell you something, Jon. Something Eva and I talked about when those meds she was taking had her in remission and she was feeling good and sharp most days. We were out for lunch in Durham and after some light chat, she got very serious and told me that she knew sooner or later she was going to start losing herself again and she wanted to talk to me about you. About what she wanted for you after she was gone."

Her eyes were wet, as were Kyles and yes, as were mine. We all deeply loved Eva in our own ways. "Tell me, Cammy. She never told me anything about this. We couldn't find it in us to talk about it." I was sniffling back tears.

"Eva knew, or I should say she hoped that one day you would meet someone who made you happy. She didn't know if it would be temporary or a rest of your life thing. It didn't matter. She just didn't want you to be lonely and she hoped you would eventually find someone you could share your time with. She worried you wouldn't do it because of how you felt about her. She told me she wanted to be remembered, but she didn't want to be mourned for the rest of your life. God's honest truth, Jon." I could see it in my sister's face. She never lied to me about anything, not since we became adults.

Kyle, who never was a big talker, then said his small piece. "Jon, go out with her. You have nothing to lose and so much to gain. Even as busy as you've been recently, I've noticed you're not yourself still. Maybe you won't be. But you should find out if you can get that back. It won't mean not loving Eva anymore. It's like layers of love. Eva has that strong base of love that will always be part of you. If you fall in love again eventually, it will just add to your life and give you a sense of pleasure that's missing."

What they both said made sense. Knowing Eva as I did, I shouldn't be surprised to hear she'd want me to enjoy life in every way. I know I would have wanted the same for her if the situations were reversed; I never would have wanted her to be alone in the long term. I was going out on my first date in 54 years Wednesday night. For better or worse.

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I called Olivia Tuesday, the day after Christmas, and she told me she had a very nice holiday with her daughters and their families at Pillar's house in Jenkintown, about 20 minutes from where we lived in Bryn Mawr. After we confirmed plans for Wednesday night (I planned to take her to a French-Vietnamese restaurant, a place Eva and I never went to), she asked "Jon, would you like to come here for dinner tonight? My daughter sent me home with all these leftovers and I'll never eat this all by myself. You'd be doing me a favor if you came." Her voice was warm and inviting, putting me at ease.

"I'd like that, very much. I'll bring wine and dessert?"

"Perfect! Come at seven. Is that good for you?"

"Seven is fine. How should I dress?"

"Very casual. We don't need to get all dressed up to stay at home."

I went out during the afternoon and picked up both a red and a white wine, since I didn't know what was being served, and I went to an excellent bakery in King of Prussia and got a selection of mini cookies. Then to top it off, I also picked up a bouquet of flowers. Maybe it was overdoing things, but I was nervous and that's how I react when I'm trying to make an impression.

Casual dress to me, at least to join a lady for dinner, was grey trousers and a dark blue button down, long sleeve shirt. Black shoes. I always liked nice clothes and besides, I never would wear jeans for dinner unless I was going to a backyard barbeque with friends or my kids.

I rang Olivia's doorbell at a couple of minutes before 7, and clearly she had similar ideas on what 'casual' dress means. She had on a green and red silk blouse (Christmas-like) and black wool slacks with a nice black leather pumps. She also knew how to apply her makeup, lightly done, though her lipstick was a deep red that blended well. Her mascara really brought attention to her large, deep brown eyes and brows. She was elegant and beautiful.