I’m A Widow. Here’s Why I’ll Never Remarry

In 1981, my friend and I, both nurses from England, were living in Tunisia. We wanted another adventure, so we took positions in Saint John, N.B. After settling in, we went to the nearest bar. That’s where I met Ned, an American merchant seafarer. We saw each other every night for six weeks, and then he had to leave. The next time we met, we travelled together for six months down the eastern seaboard. We got married in October 1982 and settled in Halifax.

After we had our two girls, I worked as a chaplain for the ships that came into the Halifax port. Ned and I had a happy marriage. He liked my dry British humour, and we found the same things funny. Our many private in-jokes used to drive our kids crazy.

In 2001, Ned was diagnosed with esophageal cancer, which spread to his brain. He died in 2003 at age 56. We were married for 20 years.

I think I was done with relationships when Ned died. I didn’t go into widowhood with the hope that I’d remarry. I was lucky to meet the ideal person once; I didn’t expect it would ever happen again.

Initially, I was so enveloped in grief that I wasn’t thinking about dating. But my younger daughter was keen for me to try. Five years after Ned’s death, she signed me up for an online dating account. The next day, she was excited to see that I had a match. Unfortunately, it was with a close friend’s husband. That was my one and only attempt at Internet dating.

I used to go to a singles’ dance with another single friend on Friday nights, and I met a couple of people there who were looking for a relationship. I just didn’t want that at the time. I remember one of the men not taking it too well; he told me I would die an old, lonely woman. Hopefully I’ll die an old woman, but I won’t be lonely!

Looking back, I think I was dating for company—I wanted to go to a movie or dinner with someone. But the men my age who were dating were looking for more serious commitment.

One guy I met invited me to dinner at his house. It turned out he had asked a neighbour to cook the meal because he couldn’t do it himself. He was clearly looking for somebody to take care of him. I love cooking, but I’m not going to date someone only to become their housekeeper!

After these experiences, I decided I preferred to remain single. I miss the physical closeness of having a partner but not enough to be in a relationship. Singlehood becomes easier as time goes on. I have always been very independent, and I became more so after Ned died, especially having to look after my then 14-year-old and 17-year-old daughters. I didn’t want to bring different men into their lives and have it not work out. I also didn’t want to go through the pain of losing someone again because it was so hard with Ned.

In 2016, an intoxicated driver hit my car head on. I subsequently suffered from three strokes that left me visually impaired. My daughters are very supportive of me, and I share a house with them now.

I fly to England every year to see my family. I also spend a good portion of my days sewing. I make quilts to raise money—I’ve probably raised $50,000 so far—for different nonprofit agencies, including a dog rescue in Spain and the Parkinson Society Nova Scotia. I’ve always been good with my own company, and I’m very content with how my life has turned out.