Iwas happily married for some 50 years. My husband and I had a wonderful family life with three children who gave us six grandchildren. But my husband’s health seriously declined over 10 years, and he died in 2018. In 2019 I felt bereft and sad. A dear friend, Barbara, invited me to see an art exhibition in Brisbane in March. I was miserable and I did not want to go anywhere – I lived in Melbourne and had rarely visited Brisbane – but felt I should go if a friend asked me. Our plans included staying with her brother, Keith, at Coochiemudlo Island in Moreton Bay. Keith was a sociable host, and asked many people to come and meet us. At one lunch I met David, a retired vet whose wife had died about a year before. Keith told me David had written a book about the evolution of dogs, in which he made the claim that humans and dogs co-evolved together. As a dog-lover, I was intrigued by this theory and asked David lots of questions. He gave me a copy of his book, Why It’s OK to Talk to Your Dog. That week we met again at a birthday party, and at a Heritage Society event. Afterwards, Keith asked David to drive me to the ferry, as I was leaving the island to stay with another friend. On the short drive, David and I shared our grief about the deaths of our spouses, and bonded briefly over our mutual great sadness. As we said goodbye, I spontaneously gave David a hug. Returning to Melbourne, I read David’s book and enjoyed its breadth and depth. I wrote him a thank you letter. He tried to contact me through Facebook, but I missed the message. But he responded to my thanks by email, and we began to message each other. He was planning a trip down south, and I enjoyed hearing about his travels, and loved reading his poems. His emails became important to me, as we shared stories of our lives and our journeys through grieving. David came far enough south to be near Melbourne, and urged on by his friends, he asked me to lunch. We ate at a cafe in Federation Square and afterwards visited the National Gallery of Victoria. Following this encounter the emails continued even more frequently, but by late July I began to wonder where it was all going to lead. Were we just pen-pals – or something more? I arranged to see a Queensland friend in August, aiming to also briefly visit David at Coochiemudlo Island. We enjoyed our time together, talking and walking around the island with its beautiful bush, trees and beaches. I felt safe and comfortable with him. On my last evening there we watched Shakespeare in Love and afterwards, we both admitted we wanted something more than a pen-pal relationship. Early next morning, David was standing in the sunny yellow corner of the kitchen when I entered for breakfast. I approached him with a smile, and as his arms wrapped around me, we kissed for the first time. I felt happy in a way I had not felt for many years. For months, we travelled back and forth interstate for visits; we met each other’s children and grandchildren. In March 2020, I was visiting David as lockdowns looked imminent. I phoned my family: what should I do? Oh Mum, they said – stay in Coochie, you’ll be safer there. I stayed, but not only was I safer, I was also very happy. We were both very happy, and we decided to marry. In May that year we had a Covid wedding with only five people – us, the celebrant, and two friends. Plus about 80 family and friends joining over Zoom, a novel thing at the time. David and I were in our mid-70s when we first met. Now we live happily on the island. Just the two of us – with our dogs. Margaret Paxton-Rolfe is an Australian quiltmaker and author Do you have a romantic realisation you would like to share? Email australia.lifestyle@theguardian.com with “The moment I knew” in the subject line to be considered for future columns