After the loss of my wife, I embarked on a quest to rediscover love. Little did I know, it would find me instead.
It all started during my senior year at Van Nuys High School. I couldn’t help but notice her, especially with two of my friends enamored with her best friend, who sauntered around the quad like a siren. My friends went to great lengths to linger nearby, and I was just tagging along. One Friday, as we cruised to Ensenada for a weekend surf, we made a dramatic U-turn when we spotted them walking. What followed was an invitation up to her house for a pool hangout.
As we lounged poolside, I was captivated by her dark brown eyes, completely distracted from the other girl my friends were pursuing. That night, while my friends were busy acting cool, I was stealing glances at my future wife, unaware of the profound journey ahead.
After three decades of marriage and the joy of our three children, everything changed in 2012 when she passed away from breast cancer. In the aftermath, I was left grappling with grief. I turned to yoga and the solace of the ocean, but I eventually started dating again. My outings took place mostly along the Venice beachfront at spots like Wabi-Sabi or the Tasting Kitchen. However, I wasn’t looking for casual flings; my heart longed for a love that mirrored the deep connection I had once experienced.
Friends insisted I was being unrealistic, but I felt differently. I had resisted blind dates and dismissed dating apps. I believed that love could come through organic means. Yet, those encounters never materialized into anything substantial. That is until a woman from a past infatuation introduced me to Michele.
For reasons I can’t fully explain, I agreed to meet up. It wasn’t even a date, just a casual dinner with a mutual friend. I had never seen Michele and only knew she was of Asian descent. I arrived early and decided to peek into the shop where she worked. What began as a simple glance transformed into a smile exchanged in the doorway, and just like that, we clicked.
In the restaurant, conversation flowed effortlessly. Past and present intertwined as we shared personal stories, forging a connection that felt instantaneous. She kissed me goodbye that night, though she claims it was I who initiated it.
Four days later, we embarked on our first ‘real’ date. This was right before Christmas, just as I was gearing up for a trip to Sweden. I’d only known Michele for about a week, but as she drove me to the airport, I found myself asking her to join me for a Jason Isbell concert soon after.
Upon my return, I gave her a book I had penned, inscribed with the words: “You’ve tattooed your name on my heart.” And here we are five years later, happily married. Our different backgrounds—her Taiwanese heritage and my Swedish roots—have created a foundation that strengthens with time, bringing us closer as we embrace everything Southern California life has to offer.
Like any relationship, ours has faced hurdles. Michele believes that challenges only make us more resilient if approached with insight and willingness to adapt. Maintaining a loving compromise is key, and that’s how we’ve progressed together. Love prevails, provided you put in the work.
