COMMITMENTS : True Love in the Arms of Another Woman

After 21 years of marriage, I’ve discovered a new way of keeping the spark of love alive in my relationship with my wife: I’ve started dating another woman.

It was my wife’s idea, actually. “You know you love her,” she said one day, surprising me. “Life is too short. You need to spend time with the people you love.”

As usual, Peggy was right. The other woman she was encouraging me to date was my mother.

My mom is a 71-year-old widow who has lived alone since my father died 19 years ago. Right after his death, I moved 2,500 miles away, to California where I started my own family and career. When I moved back five years ago, I promised myself I would spend more time with her. But somehow, with the demands of my job and three kids, I never got around to seeing her much beyond family get-togethers and holidays.

She was suspicious when I called and suggested that the two of us go out to dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong? Are you moving my grandchildren away?” she asked.

“I thought it would be nice to spend some time with you,” I said. “Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d like that a lot.”

I found myself nervous as I drove to her house Friday after work. I had the pre-date jitters--and all I was doing was going out with my mother, for Pete’s sake!

What would we talk about? What if she didn’t like the restaurant I chose? Or the movie?

*

When I pulled into her driveway, I realized how excited she, too, was about our date. She was waiting by the door with her coat on. Her hair was curled. She was smiling. “I told my lady friends that I was going out with my son and they were all impressed,” she said as she got into my car. “They can’t wait until tomorrow to hear all about our evening.”

We didn’t go anywhere fancy, just a neighborhood place where we could talk--just catching up with each other’s lives. We talked so much that we missed the movie.

“I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me buy dinner,” she said as I dropped her off. I agreed.

“How was your date?” asked my wife when I got home that night.

“Nice . . . nicer than I thought it would be,” I said. She smiled her told-you-so smile.

Since that night, I’ve been dating Mom regularly, a couple of times a month. We always have dinner. Sometimes we take in a movie too. Mostly, though, we just talk. I tell her about my daily trials at work. I brag about the kids and my wife. She fills me in on the family gossip I can never seem to keep up with.

Like a lot of my baby-boomer friends, I tend to rush around, filling my At-A-Glance calendar to the brim. Spending time with my mom has taught me the importance of slowing down. I finally understand the meaning of a term I’ve heard a million times: quality time.