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To begin with, I want to make it clear that I've done both. With my first husband, I HAD to take his name; it was the law at the time! When I divorced him, after over 28 years of marriage and three grown children, I took my maiden name back. At that time, I had no plans to ever get serious enough with another man to even think about marrying again. I left him because I couldn't stand being married to him any longer, not to remarry!

However, about a year later, I went to a high-school reunion for my graduating class. It was the first time in about thirty-five years that our class had gotten together; our last get-together had been on graduation night. We were such a small class, since our town was small and our school was new, that we decided to include the class that graduated before we did (the first class from our school) and the three that were behind us in the school. We chose to meet on the Friday night of the last home football game of the season, and get together again for lunch on the following day.

At the football game, during half-time, I went to talk to a couple of older people that I remembered from my youth. One of them pointed another person out that he said I needed to go talk to; he was standing with a group of four other men. When I walked up and he saw me, he reached and wrapped an arm around me; I stood and talked with him a few minutes. One of the other men there told me he had been one of my teachers, and I hugged him; one across from me asked if he could have a hug. When I asked who he was, he called me by my name and swept his cap off as he grinned at me. I knew immediately who he was, by the grin. We had graduated together, and he knew my father and three of my brothers.

That was our meeting, and we began seeing each other about three weeks later. He called and came to visit me and spent several hours, just visiting and catching up on our lives (we had done quite a bit of that the weekend of the reunion, too). We began to date, and by Christmas, I had met most of his family from his first marriage. He finally met two of my children from my first marriage (and my son's wife) shortly before Christmas; he didn't meet my other child until later, when her family came to visit.

During the next few months, we spent a lot of time together, but also broke up two or three times. One night he stopped talking and got on his knees and pointed out all the things that he loved about me, and told me he wanted to never lose me. I asked if he was

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