I've always dreaded the winter. The short, dark days, the howling wind, the sleet and rain are terribly depressing for me. Also, as the first anniversary of Steve's death draws near, my spirits plummet to the depths of despair at times. Still, there are relatively sunny periods, both in the weather and my moods.

The Gardening Club is responsible for this shift in my focus. I could be housebound with nothing to do but watch soap operas on TV. But now, when it rains, I'm busy with my houseplants, picking off all the dead leaves; scraping the surface soil that's become packed and hard, replacing it with compost and sand or vericulite. And when the sun does come out, I go outside and remove old dahlia tubers to store in sawdust for the winter. I take cuttings for flowering borders and from my geraniums to plant in hanging baskets. I've also learnt how to transplant my lovely purple fuchsia. Ron showed us how to cut it down and trim the roots, pot it and put it in a protected place, safe from the storms.

I rather feel that Ron has done that for me. He's kept away the storms of despair by nurturing my new found interest in plants; protected me from wallowing in self-pity by telling me jokes, paying me compliments and boosting my self-esteem. No one at the Gardening Club knows that we see each other outside the meetings, although Jenny teases me sometimes and I think she might have seen his car outside my gate a few times. It's all quite innocent. We have coffee together, he's come for dinner twice and I went to the movies with him one night. He held my hand in the dark and I must admit I enjoyed it, but nothing else physical has happened between us.

I haven't mentioned him to Vanessa and Peter, other than as the man who runs the Gardening Club. I don't know why. Embarrassment maybe, or a touch of guilt that I can be happy again. It's probably because I don't know what to say, or how they would interpret it. After all, he is only a dear friend. It's not like we are lovers, although the possibility always exists. Maybe they would be ashamed, even disgusted at the idea of their 60-year-old mother contemplating sex in her life again. I blush myself when I think about it.

Yet everyone needs to be loved. I don't think we are ever too old to need a hug and a kiss. Sex apart, it is the physical closeness we need; to feel someone's arms around us; the warmth we bask in when we know we are still desirable to another person. And when it's someone new in our lives, it gives us hope for the future that there can still be good years ahead, that all life's possibilities are not coming to an end.

When we first bury our lifelong partner, we think we are burying ourselves as well. For months, we only reminisce and mourn. We cry over all the lovely memories and don't believe there could ever be happiness again. Certainly I never expected it. I thought I'd like to live long enough to see my grandchildren fall in love and marry, but the thought it could happen to me never crossed my mind.

In winter, many plants are like animals that hibernate. It takes the kiss of sunshine before they stir, the sap rises and they blossom again. Ron is bringing the feeling of springtime into my life after the harsh winter. The word "love" has not been mentioned, but his smile, the jokes we share, the pressure of his hand, the tenderness in his voice all tell me what he feels. And I am responding because I need to bond with another human being.

I know the problems that lie ahead; the reaction of my children and especially of his, as their mother is still alive. If we do eventually marry, there will be discussions about whose house we live in, dreadful decisions to be made about money, a subject I hate to discuss; all kinds of agreements to be made and probably legally implemented about what our children will inherit and so on. I have sleepless nights when I think about these things. I would prefer to continue as we are, but nothing in life remains static. Either we move forward or we stop.

Despite my doubts, I don't want to lose Ron even though I also don't want to rush headlong into this relationship. I just hope he'll let me proceed at my own pace!

Why do you think as you do about the poll?
If you have remarried, what were the problems that surfaced when you made your decision?