Is second-time love possible?

Canadian researchers have found the first evidence that older brains remember information better if it is learned through trial and error, rather than passively taking it in, a study said.

Canadian researchers have found the first evidence that older brains remember information better if it is learned through trial and error, rather than passively taking it in, a study said.

Published May 4, 2011

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When Nadia, 54, lost her husband, Mohammed, in a car accident 17 years ago, she was devastated. He had been her “husband, best friend and brother”.

They had met at Coronation High School, west of Joburg. Also a neighbour, he helped her with her homework. Soon they fell in love.

During his matric year, he asked her to be his wife, saying he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. They married when Nadia was 16 and pregnant.

He was “the sexiest man”, says Nadia, and she never looked at another man after that.

“He was also the most honest and pleasant person in my life.” He’d rub her feet in bed, bring her coffee in the morning and do the cooking.

“He was the man. You don’t get a man like that nowadays. When he died, I had nobody, no family that stood by me,” she recalls.

She had to raise their three boys alone. The loss of their father strengthened the bond between mother and sons.

Ilze van der Merwe-Alberts, a psychologist and CEO of Bella Vida psychology centres, knows what Nadia went through. Her husband died seven years ago, when her daughter was 18 and her son, 14. It was a challenging time for them.

“But we have grown phenomenally through this and today we are emotionally mature, resilient, strong and courageous individuals. Our relationship strengthened,” says Van der Merwe-Alberts.

She and her children decided that they didn’t want to stay in victim mode. “I realised I had two choices: one, to stay stuck and not move on; or two, to tap into my ability to move on and heal,” she says.

Nadia didn’t rush into finding love again. It took her four years just to accept Mohammed’s death.

Van der Merwe-Alberts says widows or widowers know when they are ready to let go of the past and enter into a new relationship with openness. “You also know when you start to look at the opposite sex again with an interest.”

Naturally, it’s daunting for them to get back into the dating game. “It’s like being a teenager again,” says Van der Merwe-Alberts. ‘‘You feel unsure and nervous.”

You may wonder what it will feel like to kiss or have sex with a new person. You may think you’re making a mistake. You may feel guilty.

It’s also inevitable that you’ll make comparisons between your late spouse and a new person

“But you compare according to what is working and not working. If you like the new person, you find more things that seem to be better than the previous relationship,” says Van der Merwe-Alberts.

“If the new relationship doesn’t work or you hit challenges, you tend to compare to it how good the previous relationship was.

“One has the tendency to place a deceased person on a pedestal or in the pit.”

Nadia refused to compare other men with Mohammed. It would have made her miserable, she says. “And life is too short. I want to give myself another chance.”

The reality is, she adds, “I will never experience that kind of love again. That is gone and it won’t come back. There was only one of him. I’ve accepted that.”

Nadia’s boys encouraged her to start seeing other people.

Years later, Nadia embarked on a relationship with a widower. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out because the daughter disliked her.

“The daughter was very mean. I told myself that I didn’t need this. I had tried.”

Despite having a wonderful life with her children and granddaughter, she confesses to being lonely. “But one day, there will be someone looking for a good, independent widow,” she says.

“If that person comes along and it’s meant to be, it will be. I won’t go actively looking for him.”

Van der Merwe-Alberts believes that because of the decisions she made to heal and move on, she met her current husband.

“Our relationship is different to my previous one. I feel I have so much more to offer because of my strength and experience. I wouldn’t want to change anything.

“To get another chance to be happy and be in a great marriage is life’s gift to me and my gift to me.

“I appreciate the small things, and my expectations of my relationship with my husband are more realistic,” she says.

For widower Bheki, 51, the journey has been painful and slow. His wife Mirriam died four years ago, quite suddenly, from a blood clot in the lung. She was 46.

He recalls getting an SMS from her the day before, saying: “I love you from the bottom of my heart.”

He and his four children took it hard. She had been everything to them. “I cried hard. It felt like a part of my body had been ripped off.”

The first time he saw Mirriam, at a high school in the Free State, he was smitten with her “big brown eyes and lips”. He felt that she was out of his league. They became friends, love followed soon after. She taught him about life and love. And she made him laugh.

They went to the same college, and eventually tied the knot. Then they moved to Joburg in the early 1980s.

People said they were like twins. They did and shared everything together, from music and books to having similar perspectives on life.

“No one was more important than the other,” says Bheki.

If he wasn’t affectionate enough, he would be on the receiving end of her short temper. They would talk about it, and kiss and make up. “She would give me a nice kiss, which I enjoyed,” he says, laughing.

They still had great chemistry, even after 26 years of marriage. Their love for each other was a template their children hoped one day to emulate.

Bheki says he felt angry that Mirriam had left him bereft. “Why did I love her so much?”

Seeking answers and solace, he went for counselling and read books dealing with grief and loss.

He began to understand that he needed to be strong for the sake of his children. It wasn’t easy. Often, he’d retreat to his bedroom to cry.

He joined support groups, but found them both interesting and frustrating. Those who had lost their loved ones were still young and they didn’t seem to understand his situation. He was told that he lived in the past too much.

From these interactions, he learnt that widowers struggled more than widows to get on with their lives. He believes that it’s harder for husbands to deal with the loss of their wives. Women, says Bheki, are stronger in dealing with their loss.

“Maybe it’s the nature of women and men, but men seem to be weaker. They make mistakes. They rush into relationships. And that relationship in years to come isn’t a happy one. Men don’t want to stay alone. It’s extremely difficult for them,” he says.

Van der Merwe-Alberts says men and women handle grief differently and similarly.

“It all depends on the individual’s perceptions of their previous relationships. The danger is that a relationship that is past tense… can leave memories of pleasure without pain and challenges. People tend to have a short memory. Every relationship has pain and pleasure, support and challenges. How you move on depends on your perceptions, and realistic or unrealistic expectations.

“Sometimes holding on to the memory of the perfection, of a previous relationship, can jeopardise all future potential happy relationships,” says Van der Merwe-Alberts.

Bheki says he realises that some widowers who rush into relationships often don’t prioritise their children. “They don’t consult their children when getting involved in a relationship. It causes a big division between parents and children.”

Van der Merwe-Alberts says it’s important to be open and honest with your children that you are ready for a new relationship.

“It doesn’t mean you stopped loving your previous deceased partner, but it is time for you to find happiness again.”

Although there is someone in Bheki’s life, the relationship is based on friendship. They’ve been seeing each other for over two years. He says she listens, understands and accepts him for who he is.

Perhaps, in time, their relationship will progress to a deeper level.

But, for now, he wants to take it slow. He’s still fearful of entering into a love affair, of being hurt again and of being too attached to a relationship.

“I will know when I’m ready for love again.”

Widows or widowers in their 40s and older seem to find it more difficult to enter into new relationships, says Van der Merwe-Alberts.

“The market is smaller and most new partners come with more baggage, issues, children and pains. But when you are in your 40s you are also wiser, more assured of yourself and you have been through life, all equipping you for the new relationship.

“I was in my mid-40s when my husband died and I found the gem of all gems in my current husband. I opened my mind to potentials beyond my previous expectations,” she says.

She married a man younger than her with a son. It gave her a new life.

“I was prepared to take a chance, widen my horizon and embrace what life offered me. A person can hold many blessings from themselves if they are not prepared to take a chance and put everything they can into making it work.

“My children adore him and their stepbrother. We are a great new family with dreams and visions for our life together.”

To widows and widowers afraid to look for love, Nadia offers this advice: “Have the courage to take another step in life and love again.

“Whether you are afraid or not, you’re not going to know until you take that step. Be strong. Realise that you’re never going to get what you had. Take your life one step at a time.” - The Star

 

Real names have not been used, as subjects did not want to be identified.

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