Figuring out life as a widow - a note from the publisher

If there was a category in my high school yearbook “voted most likely to never get married,” I would have been in the running.

I remember as a young child watching a news show on TV with my parents, and there was an interview with a woman who was advanced in years and lived in a rambling old house at the end of a long driveway. She wore expensive and fashionable clothes from another era and had her hair (which she probably rarely had cut) in an updo, and smoked a pipe. A pack of menacing-looking Doberman Pinschers swarmed around her, barking at anyone who ventured up the windy drive. I looked at that woman and thought to myself, “That’s going to be me when I grow up.”

For the longest time that remained my fear, that I would grow up a recluse on the oddest fringes of society.

That fear quelched when I met Brian. I originally met him when I interviewed him and his brother for a story when they opened their store Laugh Lines, in Old Orchard Beach. A few months later I saw him at a Saco City Council meeting and he said I should stop by the store some day. I did, and as I was leaving, he asked, “Do you like coffee?”

That became our running joke, and yes, I do like coffee, but not as much as I liked Brian. We dated for six years before getting married in 2013. During that time, we broke up a few times, as we both had difficulty navigating adult life, but in the end, we fumbled through life and figured it out together.

I was always a late bloomer. I didn’t speak until I was three. I was the last one in my grade to learn how to ride a bicycle without training wheels. At the age of 42, I got married and bought a little house in Old Orchard Beach, less than a mile away from Brian’s store. I had everything I wanted.

Unlike most couples these days, we didn’t live together until we got married. So there were some growing pains as he’d lived with his twin brother for years, and I’d lived alone for many years. But we navigated marriage together and were able to work things out, and our bond grew stronger.

He was the sweet guy who would make me lunch with little notes tucked in the bottom of the bag, served my birthday dessert on a unicorn plate, and much to my delight, would share my joy when I found a potato that looked like a hippo or a piece of driftwood that looked like a face.

It wasn’t perfect, no marriage is, but I considered myself lucky. We enjoyed spending time together, but we also allowed each other space. I’d go out with friends while he stayed home and watched a Star Wars movie, or he’d go to his brother’s to watch a Patriot’s game while I stayed home and read a book or watched some true crime drama.

My perfectly imperfect marriage came to a screeching halt yesterday when Brian unexpectedly died of internal bleeding. I’m still in disbelief. He was only 49. We had so many things we hadn’t yet done. So many things we hadn’t discovered together yet.

Life is sometimes unfair and unkind and this is one of those times. I’m not sure how I’m going to navigate the next stage of life, but I’m also not going to worry about that right now. I’m just going to get through today.

So, dear reader, please be patient with me, and with Saco Bay News. It’s a challenging time for this two-bit independent news publisher. Things may look different for the next few weeks, or it may look like nothing at all as I take care of myself in this difficult time. And the future of Saco Bay News, let’s just say that could be a bit tenuous, as I’m not sure how I’m going to afford to keep doing this as a one income household. Stay tuned and thanks for understanding.

Saco Bay News Publisher Liz Gotthelf can be reached at newsdesk@sacobaynews.com.