In June 2002, I played my first round of golf, encouraged by Anita, who I was dating at that time. I quickly developed a strong passion for the sport, and we played almost every weekend, weather permitting, for the next three years.

Anita, a retired school teacher working part-time for a textbook company, traveled frequently during the school year. Missing golf during the cold winters in Philadelphia, I began to accompany her on trips to warmer places with good golf courses.

Several of these trips led us to Mesa, Arizona, where the sun shines 325 days a year. I enjoyed golfing in Arizona and decided it would be the perfect place to retire. I imagined spending my days on the golf course, dining out, dancing on Friday nights, and grilling on Sundays.

When Anita's son Bill chose to move his family to Arizona, it confirmed our plans to relocate there as well. Bill purchased a lot in Fountain Hills and, as a construction engineer, decided to build a custom home. However, we preferred Mesa for its charming downtown, proximity to Old Town Scottsdale, the Phoenix airport, and more affordable housing compared to other upscale areas.

In 2005, as housing prices soared in Arizona, Anita and I visited the state, staying at the famous San Marcos Golf Resort, one of Arizona's original golf courses dating back to 1913. During our stay, we searched for a house.

We found a beautiful home at Red Mountain Ranch Country Club in northeast Mesa. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a spacious yard with a swimming pool. The house was located on a cul-de-sac in a gated section of Red Mountain Ranch, a golf community featuring a challenging Pete Dye golf course.

On May 5, 2025, Cinco de Mayo, we purchased the house. I had invested my money in real estate, so our plan was for Anita to use her money market investment for the down payment while I would cover all closing costs and expenses until I matched her investment. We intended to rent the property until we were ready to sell our homes and move to Arizona.

Unfortunately, it took until November to find a tenant, and we could not cover the mortgage with the rental income as we had anticipated. When the lease expired, there was a glimmer of hope. Anita's son and his wife decided to rent the house while their new home in Fountain Hills was being built. Since this arrangement seemed beneficial for the whole family, we agreed to charge the same rent as the previous tenants.

Bill and Hannah moved into the house in December and Hannah's mother came to visit from Czechoslovakia. Anita and I flew to Phoenix to celebrate the holidays with family. It was a wonderful Christmas, and spirits were high as we welcomed the New Year, 2007. However, the celebrating was short-lived.

In April 2007, Bill and Hannah moved out of the house! They abandoned their plans to build in Fountain Hills and instead bought a million-dollar home in the nearby community of Las Sendas.

While Anita was excited for her children, I was devastated and angry. This unexpected change significantly altered our long-term plans. I realized we could not afford to rent the house again. The rent had not covered the mortgage and there were maintenance costs and city utilities. We had upgraded all the kitchen and laundry appliances for Bill and Hannah with high-end replacements.

In addition, Red Mountain Ranch was a community club that featured a restaurant, fitness centre, swimming pool, tennis courts, and an 18-hole golf course. Membership in the Golf Club was exclusive to homeowners, and during the holiday season, I had paid the $8,300 non-equity membership fee along with the monthly golf dues of $450. Most renters cannot be charged for golf-related expenses. Even avid golfers Bill and Hannah declined to cover these costs.

I concluded that Anita and I had to move to Mesa. She agreed, especially now that her family was established nearby. However, she wanted to renovate our $367,000 house to match her son's million-dollar home. She wished to replace the ceramic tiles with travertine, install a mosaic medallion in the foyer, and replace the carpet. I suggested tiling the hallway instead of carpeting and adding a stone façade to the fireplace.

Thus, the renovations began. I hired a tile mason, and Anita quickly sold her house. I found a renter for my apartment and left much of my furniture and decorations behind. In July, the moving truck was loaded, and we were on our way to Mesa, Arizona.

We drove Anita's car with her Dachshund, Schnapps, and met the movers at the house. Once we unpacked, I returned to Philadelphia to find a manager for my properties, get my renter settled in, pick up my cat Brandy, and drive my Cadillac to Arizona.

While I was in Philadelphia, Anita arranged her bedroom set in the master bedroom and placed my bedroom furniture in the guest room. She bought beautiful new furnishings for the living room, dining room, office/sewing room, and some for the great room.

After I returned, we hung the $6,300 hand-painted, hand-forged Nicolae Vishu chandelier I bought in Scottsdale. We replaced the sliding glass doors with French doors featuring Venetian blinds inside the glass panels. The backyard also received a makeover. My glass-top kitchen set became our patio table, Anita's outdoor sets adorned the yard, and the pool planter thrived with vibrant flowers.

We upgraded the old, white formica kitchen counters with the finest and most unique Brazilian Verde granite imaginable. The island was a single slab of granite with a new country sink, drop-down lighting, and new bar stools. The backsplash was tiled, the kitchen was painted, and our new kitchen was stunning.

Sadly, I would never be able to appreciate any of this. Things began to deteriorate rapidly. Anita expressed that she no longer wanted to play golf and was uninterested in the club. She would buy whatever she needed, including her food, while all other expenses fell on me.

I understood that she had spent a lot on new appliances, furniture, and the kitchen granite, but I had invested a total of $96,977; $66,973 in mortgage, utilities, and maintenance, $10,405 in new furnishings, $13,716 in golf membership and dues, and $5,883 in trips to Mesa.

With five rental properties, I was accustomed to keeping meticulous records for tax purposes, and I simply added Mesa to my bookkeeping. However, Anita refused to acknowledge it, pointing out "all the rental income I received." When I explained that the rent had not even covered the mortgage, her response was, "That's your problem!"

Having lived alone for most of 30 years, I considered myself a tidy housekeeper. I cooked, cleaned, and did my own laundry. My bed was always made, dirty clothes were in a hamper, and my clothes were high-quality and neatly arranged in my closet.

However, life with Anita was becoming unbearable. I faced a constant barrage of complaints; dusting lamp shades, a dirty oven, a dirty dish or glass in the sink, napping on the sofa, and worst of all, my cat was confined to a closet in the office.

To maintain peace, I would put the dog in its kennel at night and sneak my fourteen-year-old cat out for some exercise while I read or worked on the computer. Then Brandy and I would sleep in the guest bedroom with the door shut. Early the next morning, I would return her to her closet.

If I voiced any complaints, she accused me of "dreaming things" or being "passive-aggressive." I began taking long bike rides each morning, enjoying my coffee in the community park where people walked their dogs, jogged, and enjoyed life.

By October, I started formulating a plan to move out. I secretly rented a storage unit and, during her business trips, began collecting my belongings and anything I could take without being noticed. I was careful to avoid the neighbors, as I had a past experience with neighbors from my divorce that I couldn't forget.

That November, Thanksgiving became the tipping point. I woke to her yelling, "What's this $hit in my oven?" Upon checking, it was dust from replacing the ceramic tile. At dinner, it felt as though I was not welcome to eat the food she had paid for.

Somehow, we made it through the holidays, but in March 2008, I rented a condominium on Recker Road in Mesa. While Anita was away on business, I emptied the storage unit, took my cat, my clothes, and all my personal items, and moved into my new home. When she returned late Sunday afternoon, I told her that I had moved out and was only there to say goodbye.



  It might seem harsh to "walk out" on Anita, but as she stood across from me in the kitchen, smugly relishing an ice cream sundae she had bought for herself, I felt no guilt whatsoever.

Our relationship had become genuinely detrimental to both my mental and physical health. She had a knack for "accusing" that would trigger an immediate emotional response in me, ranging from annoyance to anger. This often resulted in heated disputes.

The arguments could revolve around golf, my cat, my friends, dancing, sex, winning at a game, dusting lamp shades, or even my properties in Philadelphia. Before relocating to Arizona, I had never witnessed this side of Anita, although my friends were not fond of her.

If I had a beer with lunch and an afternoon nap, she would tell her friends that "I would drink and fall asleep in a drunken stupor." When I expressed my concerns, she would respond, "Grow some balls. It's just a joke!"

She would claim that I "dreamed it" so often that I started to question my own sanity. To determine if I was genuinely losing my mind or if she was distorting my reality, I began carrying a small voice-activated tape recorder in my pocket. I discovered that I had NOT dreamed it!

From the moment we bought the house, she had not contributed a single expense and denied what I claimed to have spent on the mortgage, utilities, and maintenance. Furthermore, she insisted that she only played golf for my benefit and she was not interested in golf, the fitness center, tennis, or the pool so she was not responsible for the club membership or monthly dues.

She also made it very clear that the expenses for golf and the club and the $5,884 in expenses for the trips to Arizona that I paid for, could be counted towards the expenses matching her downpayment. I could see where this was going and I didn't like it.

After I wrapped up my business in Philadelphia in July 2007, I drove across the country to join her, bringing my cat and some miscellaneous items I had not trusted to movers.

My good friend Sharon wanted to accompany me on the trip. I had known Kevin and Sharon for over seven years, and after my retirement, we often played golf together. Kevin was not fond of traveling, while Sharon was "dying to see the west." Sharon asked if she could join me on the drive to Arizona.

Sharon had cats and offered to help with Brandy, assist with driving, and provide some company during the five-day journey. On the day we left, Brandy and I met Sharon and Kevin at the King of Prussia Mall. We loaded my green Cadillac with her luggage, and the three of us set off westward. To our surprise, Brandy was purr-fect. She waited until we stopped for the night to use her litter box.

Each evening, Sharon and I would have dinner together and meet for breakfast in the morning. On the first night at the motel with Brandy, I stuffed pillows everywhere I thought she might hide before heading out to dinner. However, when I returned to the room, she was curled up on the bed. Each night I found her sleeping on the bed.

Sharon and I made stops to see a few sights along the way, like the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. It was a fantastic trip that took five days, but a major scene was about to unfold the evening Sharon and I arrived in Mesa.

When Anita discovered that Sharon was "vegan," she had a meltdown. She was furious that I hadn't informed her, but I genuinely didn't remember Sharon being vegan even after five days on the road together. Sharon never made it an issue, so it was hardly noticeable. She just discretely chose what to eat.

Regardless, Anita knew Sharon. We had played golf together several times, but on this occasion, Anita felt "insulted!" I was embarrassed.

What shocked Sharon the most during her brief visit was Anita's disdain for my cat. Brandy had lived a peaceful life without any threats, but now Anita allowed the dog to roam the house freely and banished Brandy to the office, where a child gate kept the dog out. Brandy hid in the office closet, cautiously emerging only to eat and use her litter box.

Sharon stayed in Mesa for just a few days before flying home, but it was enough time for us to play a round of golf at the beautiful Red Mountain golf course and for her to witness my retirement dream transforming into a retirement nightmare. By the way, that first round of golf at Red Mountain Ranch had cost me a staggering $10,235.

My life became one of eating alone and sleeping in the guest bedroom. My health was declining. I would put the dog in its kennel after she went to bed at night and sneak my cat out for some exercise. This situation escalated when Anita discovered "Brandy's footprints" one morning in a ray of sunlight shining across the dining room table.

Once again, however, I was starting over. There was so much I had to leave behind, both valuable and sentimental; my $3,200 oriental carpet, a $6,500 chandelier, an antique marble-top Bombay chest, my wrought iron kitchen set, a marble coffee table, a $1,000 Jenn-Air grill, and there wasn't enough space in the condo for my bicycle. Nevertheless, I believed that what I had to give up was not worth sacrificing my mental and physical health.

Starting anew, I had to purchase kitchen appliances, tools, and utensiles, linens, and furniture for the bedroom, living room, dining room, and office. Eventually, I did retrieve the wrought iron bed I had given to Bill and Hannah for their guest bedroom.

My new two-bedroom home turned out beautifully, and Brandy and I were very comfortable, enjoying our little patio. I could have an evening cocktail or an occasional cigar without criticism, take an afternoon nap without degradation, and I even bought an electric grill for an occasional cookout.

I left my friends and my life in Philadelphia to enjoy my retirement by playing golf, dining out, and dancing, and I was determined to pursue my dream. At 68, however, I wasn’t inclined to go bar hopping, and I was eight years out of practice when it came to dancing and courting someone new. In Philly, I had connected with Anita through online dating, but I decided to give it another try.

I created a profile on a dating website looking for a lady who enjoyed golf and dancing. Joan's profile was a perfect match, and I was intrigued. Since this was not my first experience with online dating, I hoped to avoid the endless chit-chat that often lasts for months, so I asked her out on a date.

Her response was "yes," but she added, "I do not do coffee and I do not do fast food!" I invited her to meet at Morton's Steak House. We enjoyed cocktails, good conversation, and a fabulous dinner. At Joan's suggestion, we ended the evening with drinks at Tommy Bahamas, a short walk from Morton's. This marked the beginning of a wonderful relationship.



  On April 5, 2008, I went on a date with a woman I had met online. Joan lived in Anthem, AZ, approximately 60 miles from my home on Recker Rd in Mesa, AZ. I suggested we meet for cocktails and dinner about halfway between our locations.

Since I was relatively new to Arizona, I made reservations at Morton's Steak House, a restaurant I was familiar with. We enjoyed cocktails at the bar, had a delightful conversation, and decided to dine together. Later, Joan found out that her daughter and son-in-law were also dining at Morton's that evening.

It was a lovely April night, so after dinner, Joan suggested we continue the evening with dessert cocktails at Tommy Bahama's, which was just a short walk from Morton's in Kierland Commons, an upscale outdoor shopping and dining area in Scottsdale. Since that night, we have celebrated our first-date anniversary at Morton's every year.

For our second date, Joan picked a restaurant known for its music and dancing. However, I got lost, leaving Joan to entertain the bartender. When I finally arrived, we had dinner, but the restaurant had stopped offering dancing. Joan then proposed we go to Chances Are, a nightclub and restaurant she was familiar with. It turned out to be an excellent choice.

I believe our third date involved golf. Joan had given up her golf membership in Anthem, so I invited her to play at my course, Red Mountain Ranch. Before long, we began dating regularly. Joan's daughters ran their law firm in Scottsdale, and she worked at their office every Thursday. Since Scottsdale was conveniently located between Anthem and Mesa, we started our dates on Thursday evenings.

Chances Are became one of our favorite places for dancing. A singer performed our preferred genre of music, and there were two dance floors filled with a crowd that was generally around our age. Eventually, we discovered Pasta Brioni, a restaurant famous for its Italian cuisine, located in the same outdoor shopping center as Chances Are.

Before I met Joan, she enjoyed season tickets to ASU Gammage. We both loved the theater, so we began purchasing season tickets together. Thursday became our night for theater followed by a late-night dinner. Each year we looked forward to seeing one of our favorite plays like Phantom of the Opera, Les Misérables, Lion King, or West Side Story among the playbills.

Joan also loved cruising and had been on more than thirty cruises. I had only been on four cruises and did not enjoy my last one on a ship with 2000 passengers. Joan's cruises, however, were mostly on Seabourn and Silver Seas. These were small ships with 200 passengers and were renowned for their ultra-luxury, all-inclusive cruising experience.

Joan was eager for a cruise, but the destination was uncertain. Where Joan had been, I had not, and vice versa. Then Joan read about a Trans-Atlantic Dance Cruise with Crystal Cruises. She had sailed on Crystal's ship the Harmony. There were dance hosts and instructors, and she suggested that we might enjoy this cruise together.

Crystal was also a luxury cruise line with two medium-sized ships. I was intrigued, so we booked the cruise, and it's hard to describe just how wonderful it was. The cruise departed from Lisbon, Portugal sailing to the Azores, across the Atlantic to Grand Turk Island, and disembarking in Miami Florida.

Joan was living in Boynton Beach, Florida when her husband passed away and still had friends in Florida. We contacted her dear friends Paul and Alexandria and arranged to spend a couple of days visiting them when we returned to Florida. It was lovely meeting Joan's friends and exploring the Boynton Beach area.

By March of 2010, we had grown weary of the hour-long drive between Mesa and Anthem and decided to live together. We chose Anthem for many reasons. It was closer to where Joan's family lived, she had many friends in Anthem, and the area featured two magnificent golf courses, two beautiful clubs with restaurants, and the friendliest people one could ever hope to meet.

Joan was not particularly fond of animals, but she accepted my cat Brandy. Her daughters remarked "Mom must be in love. She's living with a litter box!" Brandy lived to be almost 21 years old, and although Joan and Brandy never shared any affection, Joan agreed to adopt another cat when Brandy passed away.

We adopted Lucky, a five-year-old Norwegian Forest cat who had been abandoned by his family. Lucky was quite the charmer with a gray goatee and a bushy tail. While Joan is not one to clean Lucky's litter box, she would pet him and worry about him like a helicopter mom! She missed him greatly when he passed away.

Moving in together meant that Joan and I had twice as many household items and furniture as we needed. We kept my dining room set, adding it to the office, and replaced the guest bedroom furniture with my bedroom set. We redecorated the living room with my bamboo end table and purchased a new sofa and love seat.

We found a stunning outdoor set that included four oversized chairs and a fire pit. We added a matching table and chair set for the covered patio and a stone-top bar with two stools. Later, I installed a misting system and an awning so we could enjoy the patio through more seasons.

Anthem Country Club was eager to have us join for golf, but Joan was waiting for her equity membership refund. The club agreed to expedite her refund if we took a non-equity membership. That was a good deal for Joan and son-in-law Barry who had the equity membership with her.

We split the non-equity membership fee, and Joan was excited to rejoin her ladies' golf group, the Party-Niners. I became part of the men's league, but most of the men at Anthem had been playing golf since childhood, while I had only been playing for eight years. Their powerful drives and putting skills on the greens made me feel intimidated.

I never became particularly skilled at golf, and my 18 handicap was only appreciated when I had a good game, which unfortunately was rare at Anthem. Eventually, I decided to stop playing in the league and preferred to play more with Joan and friends who were at a similar skill level to mine on the golf course.

In 2015, we decided to give up our Anthem golf membership. The courses were becoming physically challenging, and we had both made friends who played golf outside of Anthem. Joan played with her good friend Carol at Coyote Lakes. On Thursdays I played in Sun City with my friends and on Friday I played Wickenburg Ranch with another group.

Joan and I continued to enjoy an annual Crystal Cruise together, with our 2019 Holiday cruise to Hawaii being a highlight. We celebrated Hanukkah, Christmas, and New Year's in the most elegant and stylish way possible. We played golf at Oahu's Mid-Pacific Country Club and at The Dunes at Maui Lani in Kahului, Maui.

We always loved cruises that included Barcelona, Spain, a favorite dity, and we have visited Lisbon, Portugal several times. We've cruised to Iceland and Greenland, seen Gibraltar, the Bahamas, the Caribbean Islands, the Panama Canal, and New Zealand.

Highlighting our visit to Cartagena, Colombia, we had our very own "Romancing the Stone" experience. We both spotted a beautiful uncut emerald set in gold, but American Express had not been informed of our travels outside the U.S. and I had left my credit cards on the ship, so we couldn't purchase the ring.

Fortunately, Crystal's tour guide had the email address of our Cartagena tour guide. Through this guide, we managed to reach out to the jeweler in Cartagena. They remembered us and sent us a photo of the ring. We confirmed the photo, and they mailed the ring to us via a Florida jeweler, to whom we sent a personal check.

In addition to cruising, we vacationed several times in Mexico, where Joan's brother and his wife own a stunning villa on a hill in Conchas Chinas, near Puerto Vallarta. When we visited them, they often took us to fascinating towns and cities, from Guadalajara, Jalisco, to Sayulita, Nayarit.

We drove through the Sierra Madre mountains to Mascota and Talpa, dining at Coco's Place, Restaurante Italiano, in San Sebastian. We enjoyed golden margaritas on the beach at Mar de Jade, played in the surf at Hotel Mayto, and golfed at Marina Vallarta, being cautious of the alligators that roamed the course.

In 2009, I purchased a red Cadillac DTS. One day, when Joan took her Lexus IS in for new windshield wipers, her friendly salesman pointed out a red Lexus IS and promised her a great deal. That day, Joan returned home with the little red car she had always wanted, so now two red cars were parked in our driveway.

Joan collects travel memorabilia, perfume bottles, and is a talented needlepoint artist. Along with her art, we have gathered more beautiful pieces together. From Mexico, we have our dancing Katrinas, from Key West our dancing peppers, our kiln art glass cat, and our Phillip Anthony oil painting.

The Covid-19 pandemic of 2020 ended the lifestyle of millions. Joan and I were no exception. Our much anticipated cruise from Barcelobna to Quebec City was canceled. However, I continued to play golf once a week on Thursday. The Friday group had already disbanded. Partners Allen and Marvin had moved and Hank ws experiencing health problems.

Today, Joan and I still enjoy playing a little golf, dancing, spending time with friends, traveling, and growing old together. On April 5, 2022, we celebrated 14 years together and it has been a joyful and happy fourteen years.



  Our new home is independent and assisted living at Acoya Troon in Scottsdale, AZ. Our roomy apartment is on the third floor with two balconies. The bedroom overlooks the beautiful Acoya courtyard and the living room looks out over the magical Pinnacle Peak Mountain.

When Joan was 65, her daughter Hope and son-in-law Barry saw that she bought Long Term Health insurance. At 92 Joan's health was beginning to deteriate and they felt it was the right time for her to utilize the insurance in assisted living.

Even though it required her to leave her home and friends in Anthem, we were somewhat ready for the change. In September 2018, we received an invitation to a dance at Freedom Plaza, independent and assisted living community. A beautiful chandelier hung over a lobby that boasted a curved staircase and an arched balcony. We were captivated and had a great time at the dance, getting to know some of the residents.

Our trip encouraged us to revisit the facility and the apartments. The apartments were spacious, and the dining room was elegantly arranged with tablecloths. We came back for a luncheon and a presentation. The concept that "We not only add years to your life but we add life to your years" drew us to think about an independent living lifestyle.

We began exploring what other retirement communities had to offer, but Freedom Plaza consistently ranked first. That December, we put down a deposit on a ground-floor apartment, but while relaxing in our Anthem backyard and enjoying the sunset, we recognized that our club provided everything that Freedom Plaza did, right in our own backyard. We decided to cancel the deposit.

In 2021, we toured Liv Generations and placed a deposit on an apartment. Although Liv was still being built, it was undoubtedly one of the most attractive facilities we had considered. However, once construction finished, we discovered that the apartments were too small and had insufficient closet space. As a result, we decided to cancel our deposit.

In 2022 we learned of a new retirenment center right in Hope's back yard. We investigated and found Acoya Troon offered everything we had seen elsewhere and more. Nestled between Pinnacle Peak Mountain and Troon Mountain, Acoya offered a fresh new facility and a view unequaled anywhere.

We relocated to Acoya on February 16, 2023. In order to collect on her long-term healthcare, Joan had to be in assisted living. The initial months at Acoya were challenging. In March Joan's brother Chuck died at his residence in Conchas Chinas, Mexico. In April, my brother Jim passed away at his home in Medford, OR. Then, on May 1, our lovely cat Lucky crossed the Rainbow Bridge after a three-month struggle with an intestinal tumor.

After setteling in, Acoya was delightful. The residents were welcoming individuals from diverse backgrounds and numerous successes. It provided a variety of activities, including board games, as well as Bingo, Bridge, and Poker. There was even a top-notch golf simulator available.

Joan found pleasure in attending Zumba and Qigong classes combined with a bit of Physical Therapy once or twice each week. I revived my Ping Pong skills from high school and initiated the game of English Darts. Ping Pong gained popularity due to the presence of many former tennis players, while darts did not do as well.

The timing of the weekly darts event clashed with Sunday football, and when individuals discovered that the game involved more than just throwing a projectile at the wall in hopes of hitting the dartboard, many decided to withdraw.

Just before Thanksgiving 2024, Joan became ill. Her speech appeared slurred, prompting her daughters to take her to the hospital. However, she returned home the same day. Yet, misfortune was on the horizon. A week later, Joan woke up in the night with chest pains. When antacids failed to alleviate her discomfort, we called 911.

When I arrived at the hospital that morning, Joan was extremely weak. She was unable to walk to the bathroom, and her speech was noticeably more slurred. While her only complaint was chest pain, tests showed no signs of heart issues. Nevertheless, by that evening, Joan could not feed herself.

In the following days, the hospital conducted additional tests, including an MRI. It was ultimately revealed that Joan had experienced a stroke. Her hospital stay and rehabilitation extended until January. We joked that she entered the hospital in 2024 and came out in 2025, but it was far from amusing.

Upon returning home, Joan required assistance to use the bathroom, get dressed, and move around. I picked up our meals, and we dined in our apartment. She struggled with swallowing, so I crushed her pills and mixed them with pudding. Her insurance provided a motorized wheelchair and a therapeutic chair that could help her stand.

By spring, Joan had regained some strength, and I offered all the additional support she needed beyond the level 1 care provided by Acoya. However, her daughters began expressing concerns about her finances, which I suspected were more about their inheritance, and opposed the idea of Joan and me sharing her long-term healthcare costs.

Our apartment was one of the most expensive, costing $13,200 monthly. Joan's long-term care covered $6,100, I contributed $5,700, and Joan paid the remaining $1,400. It was far too early in my retirement for me to be paying assisted living rent when I had no infirmities, especially since the finest high-rises in Scottsdale were renting for $2,000 a month.

Before long, her daughters altered her bank account, and Joan could no longer write checks. They changed the passwords to the credit card accounts we had shared for 15 years. At this juncture, I made it clear that we needed to adhere to our original plan of sharing the rent after the long-term healthcare payment, or I would consider moving out.

They reached an agreement, yet I remained worried about receiving long-term care payments that might be overdue. I was still spending twice as much as what a reasonable apartment would cost. Nevertheless, Joan and I were celebrating 17 years together, filled with sharing, caring, love, and a life of golf, dancing, and travel, and I did not want to leave her.

On April 24, 2025, we drove to San Juan Capistrano, CA, for her grandson's wedding. Perhaps as a gesture of appreciation for my assistance, they covered the expenses of the wedding trip, which was quite expensive. By this time, Joan had regained enough strength that we even managed to sneak in a dance at Aidan & Jenna's wedding.

To be continued....