It was coming up to Christmas and I asked my grown daughter what she wanted. She said, ‘What I want for you is to find love again’
It was something that hadn’t crossed my mind to want for myself. I was 65 and amicably separated from her father. Our marriage had lost its mojo long before; there had been struggle and frustration, and she had witnessed that.
I replied, “Darling, I’ve got a great life! I travel, I do interesting work, I’ve got great friends, I’m content.” She said, “No, I want you to love again.” It turned out that she’d spoken to my friends who’d known me for decades, and they had told her what I was like in my 20s: that I was an incredible flirt, that I was vivacious, that I was confident around men. She said, “I haven’t seen that part of you.”