You know how they say truth is stranger than fiction? I’ve been running a lot lately. 19 miles this week. And during my runs I listen to Pandora which I recommend and love. But I also think. I see scenes play out in my head of what Martin and my movie would look like. Especially the night we met and how many things could have happened to get in the way of our meeting. It is crazy enough to tell people that you met in a little ‘ol boxty house restaurant in Dublin coming in from the rain and were seated at the same table. That alone gets people’s interest. But the purest of love affairs that resulted from that meeting has been truly remarkable to me. On top of that, the transformation in Martin’s spirit toward the Lord, His Word, and His church since then…it all just boggles the mind. Well mine anyway.
In 4 days he will be here with both his daughters who are 20 and 19 years old. They are up for a good time. I aim to show them one. Plus love and warmth and a welcome hopefully the likes they’ve never seen before. Do I have something to prove? Yeah well. No. I just want to make a good impression is all.
But this story as fanciful as it is; as flawed as it was with Martin asking me to marry him before he was divorced. Today he held in his hand the letter from the solicitor which agreed to all the terms. He signed on the dotted line and sent it on in the post the same day. In 6 weeks from the filing date he will be single. And free to marry. If he chooses to. My bets are on him not being single for long.
It costs a lot of money to do what we have done. To see each other as often as we have over the past year and 7 months. I have pleaded with him to get a place of his own but he has been adamant that staying at his brother’s and sisters place was good enough and would save him money. Despite having to speak to me from garage floors holding radiators for warmth.
When it all went down in April about the lies – he fessed up to his siblings, 17 and 10 years his senior, and he retreated. Yet he had nowhere to go. He felt bad, and guilty and like he needed punishment and wanted to be alone. So he started sleeping in the backseat of his car. Yes he is nuts. But it was a genuine response to his wrong doing.
As much as I protested, he implored that he would save money over renting a place, money over a hotel, and that he was “only little” and fit quite nicely in the back seat. He also said, “I’m a camper at heart; this is fine.”
The first few nights he unwittingly set off his own car alarm But once he figured that out there was no stopping him.
I was dating the richest homeless man I have ever known.
He has saved a ton of money since and between me and his nephew we have now convinced him to go back to his brothers home where he is tonight and will remain. His penance is thankfully over.
My kids and I have decided that telling my sisters and mom about his living in his car would be counterproductive for obvious reasons. But he did use the time well. He read his Bible at night. He had a great view of sheep and cows and beautiful hills. He had solace. He was able to sort out his conflicting and guilty feelings. I saw a transformation in him. And despite worrying about him there on a country lane sleeping in his car and washing at his golf club, I was secretly really, really proud of him.
No stuff, no status, no comfort. He paid for his girls and him to come out on Wednesday because that was the most important thing without dipping into his savings.
Seriously. And again. I say to you all. I’m glad I stuck around. He is rich in more ways than one. Hopefully the richest in love.
You can’t make this stuff up. I get it and my kids get it. I’m not sure everybody would. But it did him good. I see a new chapter beginning. Thankfully I will see him again soon. I love him….so much.