Storms, Plot Twists, and Second Chances for Happily Ever After

Tornadoes in Oklahoma are frequent occurrences. Scary, dark funnels of violent winds rotating up to 330 miles per hour, destroying everything in their paths. Mercifully, modern technology makes it possible to warn us to take cover, sirens that tell us to protect ourselves and our loved ones. I liken my divorce to a tornado without forewarning, or maybe I was too busy, oblivious, or naïve to hear the sirens.

Like the destruction of a tornado, my “happily ever after” was swept away, and I was left with a one-year-old and a two-year-old to raise on my own. When the dust settled, I decided I would do everything in my power to make a happy home for my daughters. I was determined we would not only survive but thrive as a family of three. It would be us against the world, and we would need no one else to complete our family. We became a tight circle of three, a family with our own traditions, beliefs, and enough love to protect us from any outside force. I was determined never to marry again. What man could exist that would be a match not just for me but also for my daughters? It wasn’t possible, I told myself, and I wasn’t willing to settle for less than wonderful for me or my girls.

Six years passed, and I recovered, as well as you can, from the aftermath of the divorce. I proudly built a good life for my kids. Although I occasionally dated when the girls were with their father, my plan to stay single remained firmly intact. 

My resolve was unwavering until Steve re-entered my life. We had dated in college twenty years previously, and although many years had passed, I quickly sensed he would be someone special in my life. After six months of dating, I introduced him to my children. My ordinarily shy kids instantly took to him, playing games and roughhousing. They began asking to include Steve in outings and activities. Although he had been married previously, he never had children but instinctively knew how to interact on their level. A bond quickly developed. Watching the growing relationship between Steve and my children made me fall deeper in love with him. For the first time since my divorce, I began considering remarriage.

We took things slowly. After almost four years of dating, Steve asked me to go on a trip, a destination unbeknownst to me. With my parents on board to watch the girls for a weekend, I packed a bag, and Steve surprised me with a trip to San Francisco. After a day of bicycling, Steve got down on one knee beside the Golden Gate Bridge and proposed to me. I said yes, followed by an immediate, “We need to call the girls.”

 He said, “There’s no need. They already know.” He had met with them secretly before the trip to get their opinions before he proposed to me. If I hadn’t already planned to say yes, his understanding of my kids’ acceptance sealed the deal. 

When he asked them what they thought about us getting married, they responded, “It’s about time. What took you so long?!”

At our wedding a few months later, they were our attendants. He spoke vows to them and gave them heart bracelets with their initials and the wedding date engraved. Our marriage was not just a union of two people but a family celebration that expanded our close circle of three to a solid group of four. The highlight of the wedding for me was watching him dance with my daughters to “Thank Heaven for Little Girls.”

There were adjustments and compromises involved for everyone as we adjusted to life together. Steve had lived a peaceful life of solitude in the 15 years he had been single, and he willingly gave it up to join a talkative, chaotic family of three females and three cats. He had always wanted to be a father. Steve took to parenting like the proverbial duck to water, learning to braid their waist-length hair, spending hours helping with math homework, perfecting the skills of seat wars on the trampoline, enduring noisy nights of slumber parties, attending parent-teacher conferences and eventually teaching two teenagers to drive. He didn’t try to change my kids or be the big, stern disciplinarian. He came as a friend, a role model, and a teacher. His patience, unconditional love, and kindness earned Steve the title of father.

Before Steve, I feared a new partner would weaken our bond, but he made our family even stronger. I never thought anything was missing from our lives, but soon, I couldn’t imagine a life without him. I never fully understood that parental love has nothing to do with biology or the sharing of DNA, but now I experienced it to be true. When the girls left for college, he felt the sting of the empty nest even more sharply than I did. As we watched our daughters (yes, they had become OUR daughters) walk off to find their classes, he said sadly, “I got a late start. I just didn’t have enough time with them.” How could I not love that man?

Like the dreaded tornadoes in Oklahoma, the dark clouds of life are inevitable. I thought I had a non-negotiable plan for my life, but I’ve learned it’s best to roll with the plot twists that often pop up. I was stubbornly resolute in my plans to stay single, but Steve showed me the power of love and second chances. Families can be made up of many different combinations and variations as long as love is involved. As we celebrate our 24th “familyversary” this week, I reflect on my gratitude for second chances and the plot twist that led to my “happily ever after” ending.