Native Lover Nation

We met online.We " talked " by email after a few messages on the dating site for four months. I traveled over 1000 miles to visit, and the day we met in person was the first time we heard each other's voices. I was divorced from a marriage I started at 51. He was widowed from a relationship that started when he was 16. He's 5 years younger than me.
I stayed at an Airbnb and we spent the day I turned 57 in Sept and four other days that week together . Then I drove back home. Two weeks later, he flew me back, and we spent a week seeing more of western Montana, and I stayed in a different Airbnb. We met in the "middle" the end of December. We both cried on our way to our homes. A few more times meeting in the middle and once he came to me. Then, I moved to him in June. The following June we had our wedding. This past weekend we celebrated our fifth anniversary in Waterton Lakes National Park in Canada.
I truly believe I am the luckiest woman in the history of the universe.
Three days after we took the snowmobiling photo in February, I called an ambulance. The first responders didn't think the machine showed he was having a heart attack. The emergency room doctor was confused said, it looks like something with his heart but not a stemi (100 percent blockage). A petite woman walked in, looked at him, patted his arm and said to the nurse, "don't give him anything else. The pain won't stop until we open up that artery." She leaned over him and said "this is a terrible thing to happen on Valentine's Day." I began crying. She said she would send her team to get him. Without any pain deadening, she went thru the artery in his right wrist, found the blockage and said, "give me ten seconds." He said the pain was the worst he ever felt. He walked out of the hospital the next day. She knew from one look what no one else did. And she solved the problem so fast, he had no heart muscle damage.
The dull part is the lack of conflict. The lack of raised voices. The trust. The love.
Size 9-9.5. We've been eating more bananas and a lot of other healthier choices since the heart attack.
Edit: I want to thank everyone for all the wonderful things you said. I'm feeling the love and acceptance from the entire world.
I got lots of compliments on the dress. I went shopping soon after we decided on a date. We were at our cabin timeshare near West glacier, and I went shopping in Kalispell. I went alone and was looking for an empire waist. I pulled the sample for this dress out because it was in a size I could get into. My response when I saw myself in the mirror was "oh, my". When the dress came in, I mentioned I wanted sleeves. The women in the store said they would find out if they could order the mesh and lace. I looked over my shoulder and said "I don't want a train, cut it off and make the sleeves". The alterations were done by the alternative seamstress for the shop. She added the sleeves and put on some of the lace she cut out. The mesh went to my wrist, but I decided it looked like loose skin so I trimmed it off to 3/4 length and added more of the lace. Oh and the shoes were ordered on clearance from Coach website .

"Today hurt. We went to a new church because our oldest son was speaking about his camp experience. The church dismissed for children's church and I walked my three youngest back to the meeting room for children. As we walked in the room, there were four tables set up filled with kids. The minute we walked inside, the room became silent and every child stared or pointed at my son, Joel. Joel was born with a cranio-facial impairment. He is missing an ear and some bone structure. I know he looks different, but today hurt.
I stood at the door and watched every child look with eyes wide and mouths open at my child. I stepped in and was about to address the entire class about differences; but then I stopped. I stopped and looked to the back of the room where my son had fled to hide. He had buried his head in his arms because you cannot hide in plain sight. My heart sank and the room remained silent as I walked back to Joel. I touched his shoulder and he raised eyes shiny with tears and a face red with shame. I knelt down and asked, 'do you want to leave?' 'Yes', he whispered, and he stood and ran from the room.
I held him in my arms during church and he drew 'Joel loves Mom' on my palm. Tears welled in my throat. My beautiful and loving son deserves so much more than stares and pointing. And I thought about what I didn't do in that room today. In the past, I have always stepped into the role of teacher to educate kids. This has happened before, and I would step in and talk about differences, but today I did not. Today, I did not teach someone else's kid because I was too busy holding my broken-hearted son.
So I ask all parents this, teach your children. Teach your children that many people look different. Show them pictures of people who look different. And then explain that it is not okay to stare at someone that looks different, it's not okay to point. Teach them that my boy is the same on the inside as your child is. He loves Dodge Ram trucks, and Minecraft, and digging in the dirt. He loves ketchup, but does not love broccoli. And mostly, he does not like people staring or pointing out that he looks different. I don't think he needs this pointed out, it's something he lives with everyday.
I am not angry. I do not think these were bad, mean children. I think no one has ever taught them. And so this post is asking you to take a moment tonight and talk about what to do when you see someone that looks different. Show them pictures of people with different colored skin, different eyes, different abilities to talk, walkers to walk, wheelchairs to roll. Show them children with no hair, without an ear, without an arm. Take a moment and share all kinds of different. Now teach your child that a beautiful person is found with the heart; not the eyes."

Those born between 1930 and 1946 are part of an exceptionally small group; only 1% of their age cohort survives today. Ranging from 77 to 93 years old, this generation represents a distinctive and irreplaceable period in human experience.
Here's why:
Your beginnings were marked by difficulty. You emerged from the economic devastation of the Great Depression and witnessed a global conflict. You experienced rationing, collected scrap metal, and practiced extreme resourcefulness, where nothing was discarded.
You recall the era of milk delivery, where fresh milk arrived at your doorstep. Life was less complex, focused on essential needs. Discipline was enforced by both parents and educators, with no tolerance for justifications.
Your imagination served as your primary source of entertainment. Lacking television, you engaged in outdoor play and constructed elaborate imaginary worlds from radio broadcasts. Families gathered around the radio for news and entertainment.
Technology was in its early stages. Telephones were shared, calculations were performed manually, and newspapers were the main information source. Typewriters, not computers, captured thoughts.
Your youth was characterized by safety. The post-World War II period ushered in a hopeful future—free from terrorism, the internet, and discussions about climate change. It was a period of great hope, innovation, and expansion.
You represent the final generation to have lived through a time when:
* Black-and-white television was considered advanced.
* Highways were not yet freeways.
* Shopping involved visits to city center stores.
* Polio was a dreaded illness.
While your parents dedicated themselves to rebuilding their lives, you grew up in a world brimming with potential. You flourished during an era of peace, advancement, and security that may never be replicated.
If you are over 77, take pride in having navigated these remarkable times. You are among the fortunate 1% who can declare, "I experienced the most favorable period of time."

Born between 1930 and 1946 places you in an exceptionally small group – just 1% of your generation remains today. Ranging in age from 77 to 93, your lifetime represents a singular period in human history.
Consider this:
You entered a world of difficulty. Your generation emerged from the Great Depression and witnessed a global war. You experienced rationing, collected scrap metal, and practiced resourcefulness – waste was avoided.
You recall home delivery of fresh milk. Life was less complex, focused on essential needs. Discipline was a consistent element from both parents and educators, with little tolerance for justifications.
Your imagination served as your entertainment. Without television, you engaged in outdoor play and constructed elaborate mental worlds based on radio broadcasts. Families gathered to listen to news and programs together.
Technology was rudimentary. Telephones were shared, calculations were manual, and newspapers were the main source of information. Thoughts were recorded on typewriters, not computers.
Your early years were stable. The post-WWII period ushered in a hopeful future – absent of terrorism, the internet, and discussions about global warming. It was a prosperous time marked by optimism, progress, and security.
You are the final generation to have lived when:
Black-and-white television was advanced technology.
Major roads were not yet freeways.
Shopping involved visits to central business districts.
Polio was a significant health threat.
While your parents dedicated themselves to rebuilding after the war, you matured in an environment of abundant opportunities. You flourished during an era of peace, advancement, and safety that the world may never again experience.
If you are beyond 77 years old, feel a sense of pride in having navigated these remarkable times. You are among the fortunate 1% who can truthfully say, "I lived through the best of times."