“Wow,” I said, “you look sharp, just like James Dean himself.”

      Buddy bent down on one knee and opened a box he pulled out of his pocket. I was amazed. Sparkling like a thousand stars, the set of rings I had loved.

     He was always full of surprises. Humor was the quality I missed most. We had laughed together and held each other through heaps of hard times.

     Nothing prepared my heart for widowhood, and the tough times at a table set for one, and climbing into an empty bed with only my pillow to hug. Alone thoughts consumed my days.

     A few months later, I moved in with my daughter, Lynn, and her husband, Alan. They worried about me living alone in my house on forty acres. I was grateful for their invitation. They had converted their downstairs into an apartment, and it suited all my needs. Before I moved in with them, I auctioned off my excess stuff, and a 28-foot Mayflower moving van put the rest in storage. The Realtor placed a for sale sign on my property.

     Lynn and Alan made me comfortable, although I felt in the way. I wondered if I’d ever enjoy love again, especially since I qualified for AARP. I didn’t consider myself old. Lynn’s full-length mirror proved that my daily walks maintained the right weight for my height.

     Slowly, my grief over Buddy’s death healed.

     I became preoccupied with finding someone special to share life with—a man to love and laugh with after the parties ended. Thoughts on Internet Dating crept through my mind. My three kids didn’t approve.

     “Mom, predators and psychos troll the dating sites.” 

     “People can say anything. You never know who’s hiding behind the computer.”

     “You’re an easy target.”

     Despite their warnings, my longing for a relationship deepened. I had plenty of life to live. I planned on seeing the world, going to Hawaii, relaxing, and enjoying life.

     The long days of winter were over. As usual, it brought a freshness of life with buds on trees, green shoots popping through the earth, and the fragrance of spring in the air. I raised my eyes from the computer and glanced out the window. A bluebird flew by, scouting for a mate. Life and love start anew. When I could no longer resist the urge, I uploaded my profile to a few dating sites. My headline flashed across the top, beside my picture.

     “Hopeful Heart, Looking For Honest Guy.”

     I hoped my smiling face and sparkling profile would bring responses. A couple of friends said I favored Helen Mirren with my shoulder-length, naturally wavy hair. With any success, the resemblance would at least snag a guy’s attention.

     As I read through the men’s profiles, I noticed that a few old geezers were looking for cooks and maids. Even though cooking is one of my passions, I didn’t want a potential match knowing this until his intentions were clear. I wanted a relationship, not a job.

     I awaited a response.

     However, finding a suitable man was much harder than I expected. A few guys replied, but nothing clicked. I mean, if a guy wanted any woman between nineteen and ninety-nine, well, he wasn’t particular enough for my needs. After four months, I had reached the point of putting my search to rest.

     I wondered. Should I remove my profile and be done with it? Am I meant to live the rest of my life alone?

     One by one, I started deleting them. On my way to the last dating site, an email from the administrator flashed on my screen.

     “Hi, Wanda—Lanny sent you a smile. Pick up your smile now or log in to read his profile.”

     Curiosity won. I logged in to the dating site and clicked on “Get My Smile.”

     His name was Lanny, and his tiny picture appeared decent. From what I could make out of the one-inch headshot, he looked almost bald—except for gray hair at his temples. He had a full, gray mustache and wore large-rimmed, tan glasses. “May I instant message you?” he wrote. “I’d like to get to know you better.”

     I pulled up his profile. The first sentence stated that he loved the Lord. He’d been saved since age fourteen. My relationship with the Lord began at age twenty-eight. Finding a Christian match was my top priority. Sudden negative thoughts dampened my spirits.

     Don’t get too excited. Lots of guys call themselves Christians on dating sites. Still, when they answer the question of how often they attend church, most of them check “Never.”

     I read on.

     Lanny’s profile stated that he enjoyed going to worship every week, and he read his Bible daily. He even sang in the church choir and belonged to a traveling gospel group. Sitting beside a man in church and sharing a songbook topped my list of favorite Sunday activities. I scanned for his age—we were both sixty—another plus for him. The mirror to the left of my desk reflected my wide smile. Could Lanny be the one?

     As I read on, I learned that we shared broken hearts. He’d lost his wife to cancer two years prior, only two months after I had lost Buddy. My heart felt warm and fuzzy about him until I read the next line. The gulp of hot chocolate in my mouth spewed everywhere in a coughing fit.

     He lived in Ohio—almost 500 miles away. A relationship wouldn’t work unless he didn’t mind driving the distance. I figured the connection was over before it even began. With my index finger poised over the delete button, I leaned in to remove his profile when something caught my eye.

    “I’m an easy-going, likable guy with a good sense of humor.”

     Humor was a huge factor in Lanny’s favor, but how could we overcome the distance barrier?

     Lynn hollered down the stairs, “Mom, would you like a bowl of butter-pecan ice cream before bed?”

     Bed? The time had raced by. I struggled to pull myself away from Lanny’s profile, but couldn’t help wondering. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

     Lanny claimed his past relationships taught him that honesty, kindness, and taking things slowly were the best ways to go. His profile contained tons of the qualities I desired in a man. He also came across as intelligent, and that ranked high on my list. In fact, the more I read his profile, the more I longed to connect with him, but I wanted to pray about it overnight before answering.

     My feet almost skipped up the stairs. Lynn asked if I had found anyone on the dating sites. “Maybe,” I said coyly. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.

     Lynn watched me eating ice cream. “You seem happier than usual, Mom.”

     My nonstop chattering must have given me away. “I guess it’s fun communicating on the dating sites.”

     After our snack, I said goodnight to Lynn and headed downstairs for bed. Sleep was long coming. My mind wouldn’t stop wondering about the guy behind the tan glasses.

     First thing the next morning, while still in my robe, I booted up my bedside computer and pulled out my padded office chair. As I sank into the comfortable cushion, I realized my comfort zone was about to sink into the unknown. Nevertheless, time is a thief, and it wasn’t raining men, so I continued.