Lucy, have you lost your mind in your old age? Your grandkids are already off to school – what on earth are you thinking getting married?” – those were the words I heard from my sister when I told her I was tying the knot.

Lucy, youve gone and lost your mind at retirement age! Youve got grandkids marching off to school, and now youre talking about a wedding? Thats what my sister Tess shouted at me the moment I told her I was getting hitched again.

Well, whats there to lose? In a week Tom and I are signing the registers, so I thought Id give Tess a headsup. Of course she wont be making the trip she lives up in Manchester while Im settled in a tiny cottage out in Cornwall. And at our ages were not about to throw a lavish shindig with everyone bawling Oh, how sad! over our senior love lives. Well just quietly sign the papers and have a quiet tea for two.

Tom could have foregone the ceremony entirely, but he insists. Hes the sort of chap who opens the front door for a lady, offers his coat when you step out of the car, and never lets you leave the house without a proper kiss. Hell never live without that little stamp in his passport. What am I, a schoolboy? he says, I need a proper relationship. And I tell him, Youre still a schoolboy, even if youve got a silvergrey head.

At work hes a proper gentleman, always called by his full name and surname. There hes stern, buttonedup, and when he sees me he seems to shed a decade off his age, scooping me up for a spin in the middle of the high street. Im flushed with delight, but also a little embarrassed. People will stare, I whisper. I dont see anyone but you, he replies. When its just the two of us, it truly feels like were the only two people on the planet.

I still have my sister, though, and I needed to spill the beans. I was scared Tess would judge, just like so many others, and I craved her support. So I swallowed my nerves and rang her.

Lucydear, she crooned, just a year ago Victor was laid to rest and now youve found a replacement! I knew Id shocked her, but I hadnt imagined that the dead husband would be her main beef.

Tess, I remember, I interrupted. But who decides these timelines? Can you give me a number? How long must I wait before I can be happy again without the neighbourhood gossip wagging their fingers?

She thought for a moment. Well, for propriety youd probably need at least five years.

So I should tell Tom: sorry, love, come back in five years while I wear black? I pressed.

Tess fell silent.

Whats the point? I went on. Do you really think five years will stop the naysayers? Therell always be someone itching for a scandal, but honestly I couldnt care less. Your opinion matters, though, and if you keep pushing, Ill scrap the whole wedding plan.

You know what, she said, I dont want to be harsh, but get married today if you must! Just know I dont get it and Im not cheering you on. Youve always been a bit of a free spirit, never thought youd survive old age with any sense left. Have a conscience, wait another year.

I wasnt about to give up.

So you say wait a year. But what if Tom and I only have one year left to live? What then?

She snorted. Do whatever you like. Everyone wants happiness, and youve spent so many years living happily already

I laughed. Tess, seriously? Youve thought I was happy all those years? I thought so too. Only now do I see I was just a workhorse. I never realized life could be about joy, not just chores!

Victor had been a good man. He and I raised two daughters, and now I have five lively grandkids. He always said family was the most important thing, and I never argued. First we worked hard for our own family, then for our childrens families, then for the grandchildren. Looking back, it was a relentless sprint for prosperity with no lunch break. When our eldest daughter married, we already owned the countryside cottage, but Victor wanted to expand, to raise homegrown meat for the grandkids.

We rented a hectare of land, strapped a yoke of responsibility to our shoulders, and kept livestock all year round. Victor never slept past midnight; at five in the morning he was already on his feet. We spent almost every day at the cottage, rarely venturing into town except for essential errands. When I finally found a moment to call my friends, they bragged about seaside holidays and theatre outings, while I barely made it to the local shop.

There were weeks when we ran out of bread because the cattle tied us up faster than a knot. The only thing that kept us going was seeing our children and grandchildren wellfed. Our older daughter even swapped her car for a tractor, and the younger one finished a home renovation proof that all that backbreaking work wasnt for nothing.

One day a former colleague, now a friend, dropped by and said, Lucy, I barely recognised you. I thought you were out there in the fresh air, recharging. You look barely alive! Why are you torturing yourself?

How else? I replied. The kids need help.

The kids are adults, theyll manage themselves. You should live for you.

I hadnt the foggiest idea what living for yourself meant, but now I do. I sleep when I want, stroll through shops, watch a film, dip in a pool, even ski when the weather permits. No one suffers; the children are fine, the grandkids never go hungry. The biggest change is that I now see ordinary things with fresh eyes.

Before, gathering fallen leaves into sacks at the cottage felt like a chore, a pile of rubbish. Now those same leaves lift my spirits. I kick them around the park and grin like a child. Ive learned to love rain, not for the sake of herding goats under the shed, but by watching it from a cosy café window. I finally appreciate the stunning clouds, the sunsets, the crisp crunch of fresh snow under my boots. My city now I can truly call it beautiful has never looked so lovely, and its all thanks to Tom.

When Victor died, it felt like Id been knocked out. He suffered a heart attack and passed before the ambulance arrived. The kids sold the farm, the cottage, and shipped me back to the city. The first few days I roamed like a lunatic, clueless about what to do next. I still rose at five, paced my flat, wondering where to hide.

Then Tom entered my life. He first showed up as the neighbours soninlaw, helping us move the last boxes from the cottage. He confessed he hadnt had any grand plans for me at first, but seeing a bewildered, halflost woman, he thought, Shes still alive, still has spark Ill give her a push. He took me to a park for a breath of fresh air, bought me an icecream, and suggested a stroll to the pond to feed the ducks. Id tended ducks on the farm, but never just watched them. Theyre absurdly funny, flopping about for crumbs!

Can you believe you can just stand there and watch ducks? I admitted. I never had time to enjoy them, only to feed, clean, and wrangle.

Tom grinned, took my hand and said, Hold on, Ill show you a world full of wonders. Youll feel reborn. And he was right. Like a child again, I discovered joy in the smallest things, and the shadows of my old life faded into a distant, hazy dream. I cant recall the exact moment I realised I was hopelessly in love with Tom his voice, his laugh, his light touch but now I cant imagine living without it.

My daughters werent thrilled. They called my new relationship a betrayal of Victors memory. It hurt, feeling like Id let them down. Toms kids, on the other hand, were over the moon, saying their dad finally had peace. All that remained was to tell my sister, a conversation I kept postponing.

So, whens the wedding? Tess asked after our long chat.

This Friday.

Well, what can I say? Happy love in your golden years, she replied, dry as a crumpet.

By Friday, Tom and I had bought groceries for two, donned our best clothes, hailed a black cab, and headed for the register office. As we stepped out of the cab, I froze there, at the entrance, were my daughters with their spouses and grandkids, Toms children with their families, and, most astonishingly, my sister holding a bunch of white roses, eyes shining through tears.

Tess! Did you just teleport here? I gasped.

I have to see who Im handing over, love, she laughed.

Turns out, in the days leading up to the wedding, everyone had already booked a table at the tea room and coordinated their arrivals.

A few weeks later we celebrated our first anniversary. Tom is now everybodys dear man, and Im still struggling to believe how wildly happy I am honestly, Im afraid I might burst.