The love of Rose Pepe's life was her husband, Joseph.
She was only 38 when he died after 16 years of marriage and two children. In the 46 years that have followed his death, the 84-year-old grandmother and great-grandmother from Chicago has never met anyone else who could fill that void in her life.
"I can't feel that way toward anyone," she said. "I'm all loved out."
So when you mention dating to Pepe, she just laughs. Frankly, she's just not interested.
Not that she hasn't had opportunities. She admits she has met many nice men over the years, especially at the Willowbrook Ballroom, in Willow Springs, where she has gone to dance twice weekly for several years. She has dated some of them, off and on. She even regularly kept company with one man for several years while in her 60s. But that relationship, as well as those of shorter duration, she kept strictly platonic.
"If they don't have platonic intentions I tell them right off the bat that I have a chastity belt on and the key is in the cemetery in the crypt with my husband," she said with a laugh. " ... I have an electric blanket if I get cold."
Dating has never been easy, but it can be even more challenging late in life. People are living longer and better and don't necessarily want to spend that time by themselves. But finding the right man or woman to fill the void can be difficult. For some, a lifetime of experiences changes what they want from a relationship. Others prefer not to get involved at all.
Pepe said she enjoys being single. So does 74-year-old Arlene Biba, of North Riverside, who also dances at the Willowbrook Ballroom. Divorced since 1971, she dated one man for several years while in her 40s. But he died and eventually so, too, did her interest in committing to another serious relationship.
Since then she has dated sporadically, mostly men she meets on the dance floor. She is not actively looking to date, but admitted she might change her mind if she met the right man. But she never wants to get married again.
"I've always been very independent and I worked until I retired and that kept me busy," said Biba, who remained friends with her ex-husband until his death in 1984. "I don't have to answer to anybody. I can come and go as I please. I think I find more and more women are feeling the same way. They don't want to rush into a marriage."
Pepe feels the same way.
"I've gotten to be very independent," she said. "I don't need anybody to take care of me. I take care of myself."
That special someone
Kermitt Mowbray wasn't looking for love either. He had been married twice, widowed twice.
He and his first wife, Anna Mae were married 57 years and were the parents of two children. He and his second wife, Mabel, were married for 10 years.
Having been lucky in love twice in his lifetime, he never expected that, at the age of 94, Cupid's arrow would target him yet again. But after moving to Naperville three years ago, his son-in-law told him about the nice lady living in one of the units in his apartment building. He and Gertrude Curtis eventually met and liked each other immediately. It was Curtis who made the first move, calling him one day to invite him to dinner. They've been together ever since.
"We just happened to be lucky," said Curtis, who now lives in an apartment for seniors just a few minutes drive from Mowbray. "I think we were at the right place at the right time."
Mowbray, now 97, and Curtis, 85, take obvious delight in each other. They spend time together almost everyday. They love to eat lunch at Wilma's restaurant, treat themselves to chocolate lattes at Dunkin Donuts, browse through antiques shops and Hallmark stores, take walks and watch "Jeopardy" every afternoon at 3:30. Mowbray calls her each day at 9 a.m. to bid her a good morning and at 9 p.m. to wish her a good night.
""Our friendship is the kind that fills in all the gaps," he said, "... We just have great times. We supply the romance needs of our time in life - a kind word here and a praise there. I admire her so much. We are human beings just having a wonderful time in this life."
Curtis was married to her husband, Roy, for 60 years until his death in 2002. She has no interest in remarrying. But in Mowbray she has found a close friend and companion who is easy to talk to and eager to spend time with her. They frequently show their affection and appreciation for each other with a hug, a kiss or an unexpected gift.
"He's a perfect gentleman," Curtis said. "He's so dear to me. He really is. He makes my day."
Looking for companionship
Bill Mrazek, of Naperville, had been happily married for 42 years and wasn't ready to date after his wife, Clara, died in 1981. It took 13 years before he changed his mind.
On a summer night in 1994, he met Marilyn Galik, a widow from LaGrange Park, at a Venetian Nights festival in Chicago. He made a date with her for the following weekend and they have been seeing each other regularly ever since.
Mrazek, 80, who has lived at the Independence Village retirement home for almost two years, called their relationship a friendship and said that marriage is not in the cards.
From his observations, he has concluded that most people his age aren't looking to get married and suspects that many are looking more for a friendship with the opposite sex than a full-blown romance.
"I don't know what they are looking for," he said. "I don't know what they're expecting. Different people expect different things. I think dating is healthy for older people, somebody you can talk to and have lunch with and watch TV with.
"What you're looking for is probably just companionship, somebody who could sit in that chair and I could sit in this chair and we could talk and be comfortable and have lunch or dinner at the same table. Right now, things are kind of grouped ... To get established, it's not easy. You really don't know if somebody's interested and to what degree."
He admits dating gets more difficult with age. He and many of his contemporaries use canes and walkers to get around. The loss of mobility limits their ability to go places, he said. Consequently, many residents are content to get together in the lobby and chat.
Mrazek will join in on the conversation but said that no one will take Galik's place in his life. They talk on the phone at least three times a week and get together as often as possible. They enjoy going out to dinner, talking, playing with her dog or simply watching TV.
But when they can't be together, he often heads for the lobby to sit awhile and chat and make friends with his neighbors.
"The best cure for loneliness is one-on-one, having someone to talk to," he said. "I've gone out and sat on a couch and pretty soon I'll have a woman on each side. They want to talk to a man. They want to hear a man's voice. There's nothing else to it. Just that."
By KATHY MILLEN
