The Second Chance By Brian
At the time my first wife Margaret died we lived in a large two floor house just at the head of a Cul-de-sac.
I had lived in this house for over twenty years being the first occupant to take up residence there on the new housing estate and was very reluctant to move away from all the memories it held for me.
Four years went by as I struggled to hold onto that house and look after it the way it had been done in the past; the more I tried the less successful I was.
In May 1999 a smaller home in the road came onto the market, it was a single floor building on the corner I knew the man who had lived there for many years but I was undecided as to whether I should buy or not as I knew it required a lot of work doing to bring it up to a modern standard.
I thought about the prospect of purchasing for a week or so then one day at the plant I made my decision to purchase and drove home that evening intending to contact the property agent with an offer.
As I turned into the road I saw the sale board had “SOLD” on it and my heart sank. I had missed my chance
A few days later, I remember it was a Wednesday and very hot, I was driving into the road and saw the new lady owner out cutting the very large hedgerow and using hand cutting shears to do the job.
I stopped the car and asked her if she intended doing the full hedgerow with those shears. She replied “YES” and it will be the first and last time too.
I said that I had hedge cutting equipment and would bring it to her which would make the task so easy and went to my home to sort the equipment out.
On my return I placed the equipment on the ground and said that if her husband used it the hedge would be done in no time at all.
Her reply hit me between the eyes like a thunderbolt from the sky when she said “I don’t have a husband, “I am a widow” !!!!!
What could I do, I had myself in a situation where I had to offer to do the job for her whilst she supplied the mandatory English tea.
After more work the inevitable cup of tea was to follow as we sat in the yard chatting and telling each other our life stories as to how we came to be alone in this world. It was during this conversation that Joan and I discovered we had so much in common starting with our birth date. We were both born on the eighth of the month, Joan being in March and mine in April of 1941.
We discovered we both had a child born on the 19 April but sadly both those children died in infancy and many more strange but true facts emerged.
Joan is a determined lady who will not allow work to be done for her without her taking part in the job so we found ourselves working together and laughing whilst we did it, this was the start of a new friendship and was I enjoying it. She was a fun person to be with bringing with her the sound of laughter whenever we met.
Very soon I found myself sitting at her dining table, with Joan tending me like a long lost friend. She had a way of making me feel as if I belonged there, having returned home after a long spell away to the welcome of that warm friendly lady who, by this time, I could not stay away from.
One warm evening we sat in the yard chatting as normal when a silence fell between us and I found myself just sitting with her, looking into her eyes. Not a word was spoken for several minutes. It was in no way an uncomfortable silence more like that period when we wake from a sleep feeling refreshed but so comfortable. It was shrouded in a strange feeling of happiness mixed with contentment neither of us wanting to spoil it with words.
I realised that something special had happened to me but didn’t know how to tell her for fear of rejection. Eventually the words came out, they had to, they could not be held back any longer I was bursting with it bubbling up inside my heart. I told Joan that I had fallen in love with her. To my absolute astonishment she said the feeling was mutual as she also loved me and two fifty nine year old kids sat hugging with tears running down our cheeks.
True happiness had been reborn as we became a couple in love.
Nearly a year passed when our friend invited us to an evening party along with some two hundred other guests. This was an opportunity I was not going to miss and arranged with our friend to make it a special evening without Joan knowing my intention.
At eleven pm I left Joan sitting with other friends and went onto the stage to collect a microphone from the DJ. My knees were trembling out of control as I was about to gamble but was not too sure of the outcome. I called Joan to join me on the stage which she did with trepidation written on her face. She had no clue what this crazy guy was going to do next. (I later discovered she thought we were going to thank our friends for inviting us to the party).
I went down on one knee holding a ring in my hand, I told her how much I loved her then asked if she would marry me. That moment of silence seemed to last forever, if a pin dropped it would have sounded like a thunderstorm. Nobody in the room made a sound until this wonderful lady said “YES” and I could breath again. Once more we found ourselves hugging with tears on our cheeks.
Over the next months we had many discussions as to the wedding day. Eventually deciding we would have a very small wedding in the Register Officer in our local city of Chester with just a friend or two attending, we would then go off for a couple of days staying in an hotel. The bans were posted and the day was set.
During one of our outdoor sittings I asked Joan if she would like to change the plans and have our wedding in an unusual place as it was our second chance in life and I would like to make it something special. When I suggested we married in Texas USA her eyes opened wide and I knew I had hit on a good idea. The original date was cancelled and the plans for a trip to Texas were made with our internet friends over there. During the September of 2000 Joan and I spent three weeks with our Texan friends but little was talked of our wedding day with the aim of the visit being to see the area and what was available to us.
Joan was measured for her dress which was to be held in the shop along with all the other things a new bride needed to be collected on our return for the wedding day. At this time Joan knew we would be having a western style wedding and the ranch which we had visited during our trip but had no idea that this was to be an event to remember for the rest of our lives.
Joan was unaware of the many hours I had spent, prior to our September visit, talking with our Texan friends, planning the wedding and all that went with it.
The wedding was to be at the Beaumont Ranch not far from Dallas and would be held in a replica 1820 western town so the outfits had to be in keeping with the theme.
On our return to UK my work had to be geared up as time was running out so my hours spent on the internet arranging and planning were increased ten fold. This was not an easy task with Joan entering the room causing me to hide the information on the computer screen. The e-mails flowed between Texas and UK increasing in volume every day. The Videographer was arranged along with a photographer.
The cowboy stunt team supported by those on horseback had to be finalised. The food and drinks, the place settings, the flowers, the cake, the car with the six foot long horns on the front, the hotel at the Stockyards, the kidnapping of the bride and the rescue by the groom, what had I started here would it all come together as I wanted it, only time would tell and my nerves were suffering badly.
Above all the secret had to be kept if the day was to be the surprise I wanted for my new bride.
We arrived in Texas early March 2001 with all the plans in place but time was running short with so many last minute arrangements to be made, the final fitting for our outfits along with those for the children who were to be the flower girl, ring bearer and best man.
Joan’s daughter and son followed us later so their outfits had to be found along with the two friends from UK who were supporting us.
Joan’s daughter Jane started the day off in true western style when she held a shotgun to my back and frog marched me into the church insisting I marry her mother having done her wrong. Joan’s son Jonathon looked so good when he brought my lovely bride into the little white western chapel and Joan herself was stunning to say the least dressed in her 1820 wedding gown and Stetson with the blue bonnet flowers supported by yellow roses held in her white gloved hands.
The bride was kidnapped and rescued by her new husband with guns blazing and stunt men falling down around the town and the barn reception went according to plan with the music played on western violin and guitar by two cowboys.
At the appointed time Joan and I were arrested by the sheriff and thrown out of town for some offence we had committed. Driven in the convertible with the horns on the front to the Stockyards Hotel where we were received in celebrity style and given the same room in which two famous people stayed whilst planning to rob the bank next door, Bonnie and Clyde.
We have settled in our home, which Joan purchased from under my nose, in the street where I have lived for the past 24 years. Much to my surprise, my old house standing at the head of the street means so little to me. We continue to laugh with each other as we build our life together and we often talk of our previous partners Including them in our life is important to us as we feel trying to exclude them and the we have would be wrong.
Sorry this is so long.
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