“I think Mom would be happy you’re trying.”
He smiled.
“I hope you’re right.”
I had no idea how complicated that decision would become.
The First Few Dates Seemed Perfect
The first woman he met was a librarian.
According to my father, they talked for nearly three hours.
She loved old movies.
He loved terrible detective shows.
They discovered they both enjoyed gardening.
When Dad came home, he looked genuinely happy.
“She wants to see me again,” he said.
I remember being so relieved.
Finally, I thought, my father was beginning to live again.
But the next morning, she stopped responding.
Dad waited all day.
Then another day.
Eventually, he received a short message saying that she didn’t think they were compatible.
It hurt him.
But he accepted it.
“That’s dating,” he told me.
The second woman disappeared too.
So did the third.
Then the fourth.
And then the fifth.
The pattern became impossible to ignore.
Every woman seemed interested.
Every date went well.
Every one of them talked about meeting again.
And then, sometime between dinner and the following morning, something changed.
They vanished.
My Father Started Blaming Himself
After several failed relationships, my father stopped believing the problem was bad luck.
Maybe he was too old.
Maybe he talked too much about Mom.
Maybe he was boring.
Maybe women didn’t want to date a widower.
One evening, he sat at the kitchen table with his phone in his hand.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered.
I sat beside him.
“Maybe they just weren’t right for you.”
“They all seemed happy.”
“People change their minds.”
“All of them?”
I didn’t have an answer.
The next morning, another woman disappeared.
That was number six.
And that was when something inside me changed.
Six women could reject my father.
Six women could decide they weren’t interested.
But six women disappearing immediately after promising another date felt different.
It felt deliberate.
I asked Dad whether anything unusual had happened during his dates.
He looked offended.
“What are you asking me?”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“Did I say something inappropriate?”
“I don’t know.”
He stared at the floor.
“I treated every one of them with respect.”
I believed him.
