I showed up at Steve's shop early the next morning. It was raining out and he was busy fixing a lock on a car. He sent me to the back of the shop and told me there was an envelope there for me. Steve had written a letter to me, telling me how he felt about me and his concerns about our age difference. While I was happy to receive the letter, I wasn't sure how to respond. I told Steve I didn't want to discuss it just then and luckily, it was time to leave for the hospital.
While I was at the meeting, I remembered a chaplain at the hospital who was married to a man many years older than her. During a break, I looked for her and made an appointment to see her later that day. I found myself thinking I wanted her to perform the ceremony. I had to laugh, thinking, "I haven't even admitted my feelings yet and I'm already planning my wedding!"
It was an agonizing wait for my appointment with Juanita. The time finally came and I drove over to meet with her. I showed her the letter and talked about how I was feeling, and expressed my fears about getting involved with someone that much older than me. It amounted to I was afraid of what other people would think. While it took some time, I had to face my own prejudices about couples with a vast age difference. "She can't get anyone her own age" and "he just wants a young woman" were two of the biggest ones. In the meantime, it didn't stop me from moving forward.
I was leaving on my trip the next day, to go to El Paso, via Nebraska, for Grandma's 100th birthday. It would have been easy to wait until I got back to deal with these feelings, Steve's and mine. I don't think it even occurred to me to wait, though. I left Juanita's office feeling more comfortable with my feelings. I wanted to move forward, some, but not very fast. I went home and wrote a letter to Steve, answering his letter. I've always expressed myself better on paper than verbally and apparently Steve did, too. I just know I couldn't have answered what he said verbally without really screwing things up, at least in my own mind.
Steve had gone for another endoscopy, esophageal dilation, and biopsy. I found out later his primary care doctor didn't believe it when the first one came back negative. He went to the meeting later, a friend of his brought him as he couldn't drive since he'd received sedation. After the meetings, I told him I wanted him to ride with me to the restaurant. In the car, I gave him the letter. He asked me if he should read it now or later. I told him to read it when he got home and to call me early in the morning. When I got home that night, there was a message from my cousin in Nebraska. Her father had died that day, from esophageal cancer, at my mom's. I had to pack and get some sleep so I could get up bright and early the next morning for my trip. I didn't sleep well and at one point, considered leaving a note for Steve at his shop and heading up to Nebraska. I loaded my car and sat down on the couch to cool off. The next thing I knew, the phone was ringing. It was Steve, calling me the next morning as I had asked him to. We talked for a few minutes, the only decisions made were that I would call him from El Paso when I got there and I would see him when I got back.
