February 12, 2007

Dear Gabby,

 

I’ve been wondering where you’ve been. I used to enjoy reading all your columns but I’ve been missing them recently. Did you decide to retire? Are you okay?

 

Missing you in Michigan

 

 

Dear Miss Michigan,

 

Handsome old Jimmy Cooper and I have been enjoying a Tuesday afternoon checkers date at the corner table in my neighborhood clubhouse ever since we ran into each other again three years ago.

 

We knew each other as kids and I always felt sorry for him. I was blessed with a loving and just father while his was the town’s resident drunk.  His poor mother, Jane, always sported blackened eyes and other bruisings, and constantly talked about how “clumsy” she was, although everyone knew that her husband, Bud, was responsible.

 

And then there was Jimmy’s older brother, Buddy.  Kids nowadays would call him a loser. He vandalized and stole and drank and caroused, deflowering as many young ladies as he could charm away from their parents, later going to prison, and ultimately, dying drunk in a middle-of-the-night car crash. Jimmy was also abused by his poor excuse for a father but, for some reason, he didn’t grow up to be a bitter abuser himself.

 

Instead, Jimmy married Betsy Wallace, the pastor’s daughter, the year I graduated from high school, and they moved to Kentucky, living a long happy life together. Even the death of his wife, after more than four decades of marriage, didn’t steal the twinkle from his eye. 

 

“I made the decision,” he told me once, “to spend my life focusing on the blessings God’s given me, instead of the hard times.”

 

Surprise Meeting
So, when his wife died, he decided to move back to his childhood hometown and it was there, at a social organized for our two retirement communities that the two of us met again over glasses of lemonade and melting ice cream sundaes.

 

In addition to our weekly checkers games, handsome, blue-eyed Jimmy Cooper and I have also gone back to college together (and I got better grades than he did!), and we’ve talked on the phone and met each other’s children and grandchildren and, oh my! We’ve become inseparable.

 

Which is why, one sunny day last summer, when I was gazing out my window at three young folks working in the flower garden that I realized my feelings for Jimmy had changed from those of friendship to those of love! I was completely surprised, since I’d been happily married to my dear Harry for 52½ years and had been a widow for over 30 years already. Who knew that people who’d lived for 100 years could still fall in love?

 

Of course, I didn’t say anything to Jimmy, but I do admit to spending more time than usual admiring his manly shoulders during our Checkers games. And, of course, I’ve always been distracted by his twinkling blue eyes, which seemed to be twinkling even more than usual on that particular Tuesday a few months ago.

 

Surprise Jump
Our game was typically attended by the majority of the residents in my community and by quite a few from Jimmy’s as well. The old geezers would gather around our table, arguing loudly about whether I should jump that king in the second row or whether or not I should retreat. Jimmy and I have learned to enjoy our games, somehow, even with all the spectators, and have been able to actually carry on our own private conversations during the games since most of our neighbors are so hard of hearing. 

 

I wasn’t sure about my own hearing, that day, however, when I managed to get one of my pieces to the goal line and said, proudly, “King me!”

 

“Actually,” Jimmy answered, reaching for a piece to crown mine with, and looking me in the eyes, “I’d rather you marry me.”

 

“What?” I replied, my mouth dropping open in shock and thinking that, after a hundred years, I must be finally losing my own hearing.

 

“I love you and want you to marry me, Gabrigail VanBurden.”

 

When I looked into his eyes, they weren’t twinkling this time. They were as serious as I’d ever seen them and I have to admit that my heart leapt at that moment.

 

“Get married at a hundred years old?” I asked him, shocked, momentarily forgetting checkers and searching his face to see if he was really serious. “We could die at any moment. Our hearts could just give out and stop beating and we’d die. We don’t know how much more time we’ll even live…” I was just getting started.

 

“Hey!” A voice called from the crowd. “Are you going to jump his piece or not?”

 

I moved my piece away from his so I could give myself a moment to think of what Jimmy was saying and a groan went throughout the crowd.

 

“Do you love me?” he asked, acknowledging my affirmative nod and reaching for my hand. He pushed the checkers game aside. “I know we’re really, really old and our hearts could stop at any moment. But I love you. I started loving you when I first shared lemonade and melting ice cream sundaes with you. Don’t you think it makes sense for us to spend whatever time we have left, together?”

 

“Oh,” I said, thinking that he did make good sense.

 

The crowd of spectators had finally realized that something was happening besides the game and they fell silent, their eyes moving back and forth between Jimmy and me. Jimmy noticed their unusual silence and when he asked me the second time, it was loud enough for even grumpy old Mrs. Hamilton to hear.

 

“Gabrigail VanBurden, I’ve fallen in love with you. You make me laugh and make me happy again. Will you marry me, even though we’re both ancient and don’t know how much time we have left to live? We can spend the rest of our lives having fun together.”

 

While I was savoring the declaration, I heard several crusty old voices in the crowd saying, “Tell him yes, Gabby!”

 

So, I said, “Yes, Gabby,” and everyone laughed, including handsome old Jimmy, whose twinkle had returned to his lovely blue eyes. “I mean, I mean, yes, Jimmy,” I corrected, thinking that I’d completely ruined the lovely proposal by tripping over my words.

 

It Gets Better
And that, my dear reader, is what I’ve been doing for the past few months instead of writing this column. Jimmy and I and our kids and grandkids and all the people at our church planned a big wedding bash for us. We married each other in front of 200 guests and, as Jimmy whispered in my ear during one of the sweet love songs, the largest gathering of geezers this side of the Mississippi. That man continually makes me laugh!

 

After the wedding, we moved into a brand new retirement community, since he didn’t want to move to mine and I didn’t want to move to his. We’ve visited his children and grandchildren in Kentucky and my brown-eyed daughter Kristy. We went on a month-long cruise (actually it was four week-long cruises end-to-end, but we got to relax on the ship while our neighbors returned to their homes at the end of each week). And we’ve played a lot of checkers!

 

So, this is farewell to you, my dear readers. Although I’ve enjoyed this labor of love for the past 6½ years, I’m retiring from column-writing now to spend the rest of my life enjoying my new (old) husband and our life together, squeezing every possible bit of joy out of our lives. And, although we know that, at some point, probably not too far into the future, our lives will end, we’ve decided to enjoy all of God’s blessings until then.

 

After all, God allowed us to find love again at a time when most people (including us!) assumed our lives were over. God, and Jimmy and I, got the last laugh.

 

Sincerely Sincere,

 

Gabby

 

 

ninetyandnine.com

 

© 2007, ninetyandnine.com

 

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Gabrigail VanBurden Cooper has been offering advice for longer than most of you have been alive. But now, it’s time to relax.