Lorraine - A Very Special Email

I've received a lot of email from those who have read about the old couple in my Pour Elle story -- with them describing how they, too, have been inspired to seek out Happily Ever After as a result of someone similar in their own lives.

With over two million visitors to my web pages, I get a LOT of email each month. So much so that, regrettably, I don't have the time to respond to it all. Sometimes, in all that blur, I receive an email that is so eloquent, so overwhelmingly captivating, that it sweeps me away with its impact.

I received such an email, from a 31 year old woman in Texas, that has to be one of THE most touching letters that I've read. What is so impressive about her email has nothing to do with me...nor with any remotely possible, future romance between her and me. The power of this letter has everything to do with this very special woman and her own story.

With her permission, I've included it here with the proviso that I protect her anonymity.

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Hello Robert,

I wanted to tell you how wonderful your site is. A friend told me about it and thought that it would perhaps make me feel better. I would love to send you pictures of myself. Alas, I am currently battling cancer and any that I sent would not truly describe my outer beauty. You will have to settle on my inner beauty.

Karen, my friend, and I have been laughing over the fact that I fit all of your criteria...except one...I have always been a perfect size 10...well at least since I had my daughter anyway. Okay intrigue is probably not there...not yet, anyway.

I would never have written this had I not read your Pour Elle story about the old couple from Europe. It reminded me of my great grandparents. 

In 1917 my grandfather was away in Europe and my grandmother was working the family farm in North Texas. While taking cotton in to be weighed something startled the horses and my grandmother was killed instantly. Cecil, my grandfather, returned to care for his three boys and to raise them by himself.

In 1936, Cecil grew weary of being alone. While his heart remained with the woman that he had married so many years before...he missed companionship and friendship. Until recently he had surrounded himself with his family but they were gone and Cecil lived in that large house surrounded by nights of longing and memories of his Victoria. Cecil was on the market...and as a successful farmer and rancher many women were available to be his Mae Betheone.

Maddy was the town Spinster...it was not a role that she had to have, she was after all beautiful. But years ago she had fallen in love and alas, her love was not reciprocated. She watched as he married another and quietly she walked away from the church that day knowing that she would never love another. She fell in Love with him in first grade when he beat up someone for picking on her...Three years her senior he was merely doing his gallant duty. She never loved another.

Maddy took the job as telephone operator seriously and everyone was happy that she was. With no family of her own she was available without fuss for all holidays and any hour. She was a model employee. Never a complaint. Until Cecil started dating. As she sat at her tiny cubicle and listened to him ask other women out she grew angry. She had waited 30 years for him. It had pained her to think of him alone but not nearly as much as knowing someone would fill the spot that she so wanted. So she took matters into her own hands.

Cecil lived outside of town so most of his courting relied heavily on the use of the telephone. Hence, relied on her... He would call a female to suggest a drive. She would disconnect them. On and on it went until the only female Cecil found himself talking to was Maddy. Out of sheer desperation one day he asked her out. Never dreaming and equally surprised when she said yes...he asked her, "You've been asked out by every single gentleman in town....Why me? Why now?"

"I've been busy up until now," she replied.

It wasn't until some months later that she told him the true reason for never going out with another. She was waiting for him. They never had children. She was in excellent health and the doctor said her age would be of issue but she could probably try. But at 37 years of age she was content to be his wife. She was unsure that she could offer enough love for a child when so much of hers was given to her husband. They were married for 55 years. He was her first and last love. She was his last love.

He never felt like he betrayed Victoria. He loved Maddy in a way so different from her. He found solace in her and strength in her aspirations. Years of being alone had created a mind that most men would have found intimidating but on Maddy it was refreshing. Always beautiful she took pride in simply being with him. No one turned their heads because of their looks...but everyone did because of the way they looked at one another. Even in their 80's they shared a wanton look that was private.

At 92 years of age Maddy woke up in the night with a shortness of breath. Cecil as always, when she moved woke immediately. She simply put her hand in his and said with a smile in her voice that her face could not echo..."It's time."

Quickly, just as he had so many years ago when his first wife had said those same words, he dressed. Never taking his eyes off of her as he did so. Wishing time could stand still...When Victoria had uttered them when she was pregnant, he felt joy and trepidation knowing that his child was nearing.

As Maddy said them he felt so many different things. How does one say good bye to their best friend...their life mate. Maddy refused to believe she and Cecil were soulmates...she couldn't care less what happened when they got into the next world...This one was theirs.

I think she was always afraid that she would be forced to share him with Victoria somewhere else.

When finally they were both dressed he helped her into his truck and they headed into town. Just some 3 miles from their house...she asked him to pull over. Cecil tried to argue that they were wasting time...she agreed and with a smile asked him to pull over. "Please...," she asked. Never one to deny Maddy, Cecil pulled over.

Maddy got out that night and took a deep breath. Cecil knew that it was painful to do so. He could see the beads of perspiration on her brow. As he held her hand and helped her into the bed of his pickup she smiled. Not knowing why she was doing this and knowing only that it would be fruitless to argue.

She pulled him down beside her and he snuggled her into the crook of his arm. The palpitations that were racing through her and the obvious discomfort she was having when trying to breathe were the only signs that anything was wrong.

He snuggled her closer. Holding her breast in his hand as he had since the first time they slept together some 55 years ago. And there, she passed on.

As dark turned to dawn Cecil watched God create a watercolor of pinks and purples and aging yellows. He covered Maddy with a blanket from behind the seat and walked the 3 miles back home. He felt it only fitting that he should call someone. He then went into their room and slept. He slept as though exhausted and cried as though wounded. He stayed there until all the arrangements were made.

On the morning of the funeral he went to see Maddy one last time. He held her hand and told her that had he known that she felt towards him the way she did he might have seen her in a different light...After all, she was much prettier than Victoria. He cried her name over and over and remembered the way his sons had blushed two years ago when he told them he was still making love with his wife. He remembered the first time that they made love and she had showed him things that he had never experienced.

After the funeral he went home. He had a cup of coffee and went to bed. He took out Maddy's diary and read. He went to her hope chest and took out the other journals. He found the Valentines that he had sent to her when they were in grade school. He found his wedding announcement to Victoria...flowers that he had sent her.

Feeling as though he were trespassing, he put them all back. All except her last diary. There, Cecil described, in detail, Maddy's last moments of life. He finished his entry with, "I don't know how I will live without you...I only know I don't want to."

That night Cecil fell asleep as he had never slept. I like to imagine that he joined her...as her soulmate. Whatever the reason, he never awakened.

He had died of a broken heart.
 

As I battle my own illness, I wish that I had someone to simply fall into deep tranquil sleep with. Alas, I do not. So I fight ferociously. Somewhere out there is my life mate. I search everywhere...leaving no stone unturned.

I wish that I could send a picture but that to me is like false advertising. I am not that person. If you would still like one however, I am sure that I could find one that is even more appealing than I on the net...If you are simply interested in a picture.

More about me...I am going through, hopefully, my last cycle of chemotherapy now...so unlike you I do not have all of my own hair. When I do it is light blondish brown. I have blue eyes. They have been called tranquil eyes that can see through to the soul. I have been divorced for 2 years and have a beautiful 2 and a half year old daughter who lives with my ex...for obvious reasons. I have been a size 10 since I had her...No matter how hard I try it seems I will never get back in a size 7. So although, I still work out when I have the energy I have given up trying. I am happy with who I am.

I love music...especially, Jazz. Old Jazz though...Billie Holliday, Louie, the good ones. I even enjoy opera. Perhaps I just enjoy wearing black evening dresses and pearls. I love long kisses and dancing. I especially love kissing while dancing. It is as though music is playing just for me and the one that I am with.

I like finding ways to make an evening intriguing...I always wear stockings because they are so feminine. I like watching old movies in old theaters...My favorite books of all time are those written by Daphne DeMaurnier. Rebecca, My Cousin Rachel, etc. Today's novels seem to believe that sex sells...when nothing does as well as skill.

I am getting tired now. I doubt that I will ever speak with you. I get tired while online...I don't get on the computer very often. It uses up too much of my energy. It has been quite enjoyable talking to you though. Good luck on your quest.

Always,
Lorraine

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After talking with Lorraine on the telephone for the last two delightful hours, I wanted to add some background about her email to me.

All that she typed in that original email to me was from having heard the story told and retold by her grandmother time after time -- and from Lorraine having personally read her great grandmother's 170 plus diaries -- from the first one when Maddy was 10 years old -- to the last diary that includes the ending passages -- the last ones added by Maddy -- to the very last entry -- written by Cecil the night he died.

She said she also remembers as a very little girl being told to sit in the backseat so Cecil and Maddy, in their 70's, could "neck" while he drove.

Lorraine is 31 -- and is as incredible a person in real life as her email implies. She's positive and upbeat and sexy with a completely captivating voice.....one that shows her genuine zest for both life and love. She teaches three and six year olds in a private school and loves doing it. She also handles grant solicitation for the school and other institutions and organizations.

Without ever seeing a picture, without having a clue about her outer appearance, it's crystalline that Lorraine is obviously a beautiful woman.

This is her third bout with reproductive cancer (the first two were when she was 16 and 18). All signs are very positive that this will finally give her total victory.....with the last chemo over around the middle of April. She told me she is determined to die....not from cancer...but, instead, from a broken heart, by only briefly outliving her own Soulmate....just like her great grandfather, Cecil.

Lorraine is also now developing her own List One which I will post here when she has finished defining her ideal Hero -- one who, probably unlike me, is not older than her own Mom!

If you wish to write her, or send your Hero Application, just click lorraine@good-man.com and it will be automatically forwarded on to her (she prefers this approach for her anonymity -- and, even though she asked me to, I won't pull a "Maddy" and filter the email like her great grandmother did with Cecil's telephone calls -- so it will be up to you to grab her attention for any direct response)!

However....even though I really do want to help her find her very own Hero, bear in mind, guys.....you better get in line........when she feels even just a little better, she's going to put on her favorite little black dress, her most feminine stockings and her grandmother's cherished strand of pearls because.....

Lorraine and I already have a date....to go dancing.

 

 

 

Postscript:

What you just read above is unchanged from the way it was written during the first month after I met Lorraine.

After that first phone call, Lorraine and I became very good friends and talked on the phone often.  She would call me for comfort and companionship after each of her chemo treatments while we waited for the pain meds to kick in so she could drift off to sleep. During those quiet times, we would talk about anything and everything, including us joyfully mapping out detailed plans on her taking Maddy's 170 plus diaries and her writing a book about her grandparents.  During those quiet times, I got to really know this remarkable 31 year old woman and how very special she was with her strength, her courage and her optimism.

Very regrettably, about six months after I first published this web page about her, Lorraine called me early one morning to tell me that they had found a major tumor during her checkup two days earlier - and that she was going in the hospital for immediate surgery that afternoon . She strived hard for her usual upbeat attitude, but she was so crushed by the news after so many months in remission that she couldn't hide how scared she was about the operation she was facing that afternoon.

That was the last time I talked with her. 

I very much regret losing such a dear friend. I very much regret that Lorraine and I never met. I very much regret that she never regained enough physical strength for us to go dancing like we had planned during all those months.

Don't you wait even one more day to dance with those who are special in your life.