One of the reasons I write romance is because I believe in happily ever after. Usually, that means, when after many times of kissing the frog, you finally find your prince. Sometimes, the HEA doesn’t come until you have a bad first relationship and have to learn trust in order to accept the one meant for you. This is what we call the “second chance”.
But there is another kind of second chance. My father was lucky enough to have one. He and my mom were married almost 60 years before she died. Their marriage yielded two children and six grandchildren as well as a host of happy memories. And when my mom died, my dad was willing to wait until the Lord called him home to rejoin my mom.
But the Lord had other plans. Her name was Marie LaBrake. She was 75 years young, beautiful, and warm natured. Watching the courtship between her and Daddy was like watching a couple of teenagers. They held hands, sneaked kisses, and told each other “I love you” frequently through the day.
Seven months ago, they got married and set up housekeeping in their shared assisted living facility. That consisted of sharing a room, laughing together, solving the world’s problems, and sometimes fussing with each other. When he had his stroke, she worried herself sick until her son got her up to the hospital. And when she was diagnosed with terminal cancer four days later, Daddy raised Cain until he was released back to her. When she died, he was at her side.
So, this blog is to honor that wonderful woman who made my father so happy. To her sense of humor, her graciousness, and her courage. Thank you, Marie, for making my dad so happy. Thank you, the LaBrake family for sharing your mom and grandmother with us. And thank you, Lord, for letting my daddy have a second chance at love.