DEAR ABBY: I read the letter (Jan. 19) from the young woman who is concerned about dating someone significantly older. In 1958, when I was 17, I met a man who was 34. He was handsome, easygoing, quiet, and I fell in love. He was a widower with two children — a 13-year-old girl and a 9-year-old boy. They lived with his mother.
His mom was not at all happy about our relationship, nor were his sisters, my parents and his kids. We wanted to get married, but my parents refused to sign. I felt like the whole world was against us. But I loved him dearly.
In March 1959, I turned 18. We were married on April 4 against everyone’s wishes. We had four more children. My dad did not set foot in my home until my first child was born.
My mother-in-law finally told me she loved me and knew I was good for her son on our 10th anniversary. All our children are close, and his two call me Mom. His daughter was a great help with our babies and cried when she got married and left home.
We have had our ups and downs, but we have also had 56 wonderful years of marriage. Age really is just a number. — JANET IN INDIANA