The Reconciliation

[Death]

Todd was three years my senior. When we were younger, he was in his mid-twenties and I was in my early twenties, we dated for four years. I'm sure he wanted to marry me. But I had other ideas. We separated. 

We lost touch because I married someone else, and he married someone else. His wife disliked me. The fact that I was on the same baseball team made matters worse.

When Todd and I planned our future, we spoke about what our children might be like. We discussed bright children who would be super-athletes. We even chose a name for a son. Spencer was the name. Todd and his wife gave it to their child. I was positive his wife had no idea he and I chose that name. She would not have agreed to the name if she had known Todd and I had chosen that name for our child.

We kept a close eye on each other for the next 40 years.

Todd and his wife were both alcoholics who met at work. His wife was not attractive, and he was gorgeous, but he lacked confidence when it came to dating. It was not in his character to pursue a lady for a date. He married the first woman who showed him any attention. 

Every baseball season, she would start drinking after each game. It was a habit she couldn’t break. It wasn't entirely unexpected when the doctor told Todd his wife had cirrhosis of the liver. The damage was permanent. Her liver was like a stone, unable to regenerate. Our teammates had no idea how much she drank until her terminal diagnosis. Cirrhosis was a dreadful disease that killed swiftly. 

Todd understood the seriousness of her illness. He understood that 24-hour health care was vital. Todd was determined to spend every part of his day with her. He found they didn't really have anything in common other than golf and drinking. Todd stopped drinking.

He needed someone to confide in. When he reached out to me, I was there for him. Our friendship was never in dispute. I knew what it was like to lose a spouse. I had lost mine the previous year. I was able to help him since I had recently dealt with the death of my husband. I was willing to go to any length to assist him in his grief. 

Todd and I started calling every night. It wasn’t long before he started coming over so we could talk in person. 

Todd and I learned everything about each other we didn't know. We talked about our future goals and whether or not we had a future together. Todd frequently stayed at my house when his wife was dying in the hospital. We were both aware of the dire situation, but who could blame Todd or me? We both had to live. 

His wife died one month later. Todd, after a while, no longer needed my support. I gave him some space to figure things out. I was available if he needed anything.

 One day, when I had just finished making coffee, there was a knock on my door. It was Todd. He gave me fresh-cut flowers and an old ring box.

As he pushed the box into my hand, his eyes widened, and as he got down on one knee, he smiled.

"Will you marry me, Mikeau?" he asked.

"Yes." My heart raced.

"I'm so happy we’re together," Todd said. "This is how things should have gone the first time," he explained. 

We hugged and kissed and ran to City Hall. The Justice of the Peace married us. We both understood we weren't growing any younger, and we didn't want to be apart any longer. 

“I’m so happy we reconciled.”