The Husband Tree

There they sit, those widowers. Looking lost in their gray aloneness. Singles in church, singles in the restaurant. Wearing mis-matched socks.
Little do they know, they're widow fodder. In fact, they're low hanging fruit.
John was the best of them. A former lifetime member of the Republican party, he had a brain waiting to be molded. The author of a house bill to restore tax breaks to home-based business, he had earned his modicum of fame. A good looking guy with just a bit too much fat, he could be slimmed down.
Three years of married life, he's a slimmer Democrat and tons of fun. He entertains me daily with his avocation, magic, and earns some coin with his vocation, accounting. He always has a project: The History of Russian Opera is current and with him I watch A Life For the Tsar in it's four hours of glory, found at Amazon for $10. Since he creates on a typewriter, my Internet facility, such as it is, is indispensable to him.
We're learning Russian from Rosetta Stone and planning a Volga River Cruise. He's been amazed at all the places I've taken him. I've been amazed that he's been willing to go.
What a good guy; and there he was, lonely and wifeless. Ripe for the picking.
A real treasure. Widow fodder.