Rebirth Of Romance After Loss Of Partner, Spouses Wrestle With Conflicting Emotions About Dating

Just more than a year after her husband of 10 years died from a heart attack, Cathy DeCarlo of Orlando found herself in an awkward position.

Bette Midler was coming to town. DeCarlo wanted to see the show. But she wanted an escort.

So she asked a family friend along. He agreed.

On the night of the show, as DeCarlo dressed, she suddenly realized she was dating again.

“I felt like I was 19 again,” DeCarlo, now 46, said of that night in 1994. “I was very self-conscious. It felt strange to dress up again. I felt tremendous guilt, but I felt God had given me the green light to go on.”

Every year nearly 1 million people in the United States lose a spouse. Suddenly alone, survivors are forced to forge new lives while wrestling with a tangle of potent emotions. For many like DeCarlo, the journey ends when a little voice inside whispers it’s time to date again.

For surviving spouses, dating again is “a difficult process and journey, from numbness through grieving into possibilities” of experiencing a new life, said Larry Hof, vice president of relationship consulting at Advanta Corp., a financial services company in Horsham, Pa., and a consultant with the Great Expectations dating service.

It may take up to two years or longer for survivors to tunnel through the numbness and pain and move on to a life that includes relationships with other people.

Early on, dating is the last thing on the minds of most survivors. Instead, they grapple with emotional boggles such as how long to wear a wedding band after the spouse’s death or what to do with his or her clothing. These questions mingle with concerns about finances and - for survivors left with children - child care or college.

It’s not unusual for young widows to feel anger toward their husbands for leaving them with all the responsibility, or to feel overwhelmed by the prospect of shouldering it all.

John and Susan Longshore married after a whirlwind courtship just shy of 10 years ago. Up until seven months ago, Susan thought she had it all - a loving marriage, a devilishly handsome son and a home in Poinciana in Osceola County, Fla.

On May 7, as she tooled along U.S. Highway 192 in Kissimmee on her way to Powerhouse Gyms International where she taught aerobics part time, she passed an accident in the brush. She arrived at the gym only to learn John had not picked up their son, Joshua, from school as usual. Susan left to get her son.

A highway patrolman was waiting when she got home. John, 33, was dead, she was told. It was his late model Chevrolet Lumina that she had seen in the brush off U.S. 192.

Susan cried, screamed and challenged the trooper’s veracity. Most of all, she wondered. Wondered how she would raise her 9-year-old son without a father. Wondered how she would make ends meet. Wondered what to do next.

“You wish you could stay in bed and pull your covers over your head and stay there,” said Susan, 38, who now works at Chemcentral in Orlando, “but how do you do that?”

Susan had to be strong for Joshua.

She got a new job. She bought a house. She mothered Joshua and played father to her son as best she could.

She believes kids need two parents and that sons need their fathers, but Susan said those concerns don’t mean “you put a sign out in your yard and say you’re actively seeking.”

For Cathy DeCarlo of Orlando the journey began in February 1993. She and her son, Marco, were in the kitchen when they heard a thud in the dining room. Herman Robert DeCarlo had fallen. His heart had seized. He died days later.

Although Herman had had a heart condition - a problem that required bypass and angioplasty in the past - his death, at 65, was a shock.

“I was numb because I had lost my best friend,” said Cathy, who is assistant to the chairman of Vistana in Orlando. Unlike divorce, “you don’t have preparation or an attorney to guide you. All of a sudden it’s, ‘I was married yesterday, and now I’m widowed.’ That’s a startling revelation. I just looked to God and said, ‘Dear God, give me the strength to carry on.”’

While God gave her spiritual strength, her deathbed promise to Herman to raise Marco as best she could gave her life focus.

Rearing her 7-year-old son, working, and maintaining her house served as a much-needed distraction and left her “no time to feel sorry for myself.”

Her busy schedule did leave time for a young widows group. Over the course of the six-week session, DeCarlo made peace with the guilt of surviving and planning a future without her husband. She also realized “it was OK to date.”

DeCarlo mirrors many other survivors who have found solace, understanding and “permission” to go on through support groups. For others, a desperate sense of loneliness drives them to reach out again, often before their grieving is complete.

But survivors who have been married for years often discover that dating again is more complicated than dusting off the old black book.

Today, “if nothing else, AIDS impacts” recently widowed adults, Hof said. “People are scared about the sexual aspect.”

Piggy-backing those concerns, many survivors wonder how they will handle or dispense rejection. Others question the sturdiness of their self-esteem.

The only expectation that Robert Lehr had when he bought a trailer in Clermont, Fla., a year ago was to fill his golden years with some good fishing on Lake Minnehaha.

At 70, Lehr, after losing his second wife, Barbara, to complications from Alzheimer’s disease in September 1995, had “closed the book.”

To pass the time between spin-casts for bass and crappie, Lehr joined a seniors bridge club in Clermont. In April, he met Evelyn Boehms. The two seemed to fancy each other. Before long, Lehr fixed his nerve to ask her out.

“You felt like a sore thumb when you went out to eat (alone), so I invited this lady to go out to dinner,” Lehr said. “All of sudden - and we never thought this would happen - we feel like teenagers again. It sounds stupid, us being kissy-kissy at this stage.”

“We have a love for each other and great respect,” said Boehms, 72, also of Clermont. “As to what’s going to happen in the future, we’re not sure, but at least we’re not lonely.”

MEMO: This sidebar appeared with the story: TIPS ON DATING AGAIN Make sure you have effectively grieved. The process is different for everyone, but you will know if you have successfully acknowledged the hurt, pain and sadness. Be careful in engaging in any intense relationships. You could be trying to replace what you have lost. But do go out and have warm relationships. You deserve to be as happy as you can be. Be careful of unscrupulous people who will seem sympathetic but have a hidden agenda. Take time to consider the type of person whom you would like to date. Explore your values, your likes and dislikes. Network with friends and family. Friends and family should know your personality and be able to steer you to compatible individuals. Consider a credible relationship service. Make sure the service emphasizes making appropriate choices and offers counseling. Try a social club. You can go there with the intent to meet a companion, but if you don’t meet that special someone you can at least develop some solid friendships. The Orlando Sentinel