Sydney Page
It started with an invitation to his 98th birthday party.
“I wanted her to be there,” Bernard Snyder said of Jo Cartwright, 96.
Snyder and Cartwright, both widowed, live at the same retirement community in Austin. After knowing her for several years, Snyder started developing a crush on Cartwright. He mustered the courage to invite her to his birthday party in January, and to his delight, she showed up. (He invited two of her friends, too, to improve the odds of her attending.)
“I was very much aware at his birthday party that he kept staring at me,” said Cartwright.
When Snyder later confessed to his cousin that he had a crush on Cartwright, the cousin urged him to make his move. He needed to be bolder than a simple birthday party invite.
“If you’re interested in this young woman,” he recalled his cousin advising him, “give her some flowers and some ice cream.”
Snyder heeded the advice and left a bouquet of roses and a tub of chocolate ice cream (which melted by the time she got home) outside Cartwright’s door. He came by a couple of hours later to make sure she got it.
“I wondered who in the world would leave ice cream at the door,” Cartwright said.
Still, she was excited by the attention. She thanked her admirer and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, that got me,” said Snyder.
Sparks were suddenly flying between the two, neither of whom expected to have a second shot at love, especially so late in life.
Cartwright was married for 67 years, and after her husband died in 2014, she did not consider dating. She moved into Westminster, the senior living community, in 2017, around the same time Snyder and his wife arrived. Snyder’s wife ‒ to whom he was married for 73 years ‒ died in July 2023 after a lengthy illness.
“I was lonely,” said Snyder, a World War II veteran, adding that he rarely went downstairs for dinner. Instead, he’d eat alone in his room.
When Snyder’s wife was still alive, Cartwright took note of how well he treated her.
“I was so impressed with what a gentle, kind man he was to her,” said Cartwright, explaining that she occasionally socialised with the Snyders and got to know them both.
Snyder said he hadn’t considered the prospect of finding love again, until he spotted Cartwright at a chicken restaurant in town several months after his wife died.
“I saw Jo looking at a big piece of chicken,” Snyder said. “She didn’t know what to do with it; she needed someone to help her.”
“I had never seen anything like it in my life,” said Cartwright, explaining that the chicken seemed too big to handle. “I remember looking at that thing and thinking ‘How in the world do I start this?’”
For whatever reason, Snyder was tickled watching Cartwright contend with the chicken, and that’s when his crush came to be. A few weeks later, he invited her to his birthday party. Then came the flowers and ice cream, followed by some dinner dates. Things got serious fast.
“I enjoyed her as a dinner partner, and we seemed to be getting closer and closer,” Snyder said. “I never thought I’d fall in love with somebody again. When you’re married 73 years, you don’t think there’s anybody else out there that would be interested in you, and you’d be interested in them.”
Although Cartwright was a bit tepid at first, in a matter of weeks, she was smitten as well. In addition to going for dinner, the couple enjoyed taking walks in the courtyard and exercising together. Snyder, who works out three times a week, began bringing Cartwright to the gym.
“He is such a gentleman, for one thing. You don’t see that very much anymore,” said Cartwright. “He is just a precious man and dear and kind and very loving and attentive. It’s nice at age 96 to have someone like that.”
The closer they grew, the more Snyder was convinced he had stumbled upon a special relationship. It was more than companionship and convenience, he said. It was a relationship of genuine love and mutual respect.
“She is the warmest, kindest person of anybody I’ve ever seen,” Snyder said of Cartwright.
Unabashedly in love, Snyder wasn’t afraid to make his feelings for Cartwright known to the rest of the retirement community. He had no problem initiating public displays of affection.
Early on in their courtship, “this sweet man, with people everywhere, walked over to me when I stood up from the table and kissed me right there, in front of all those people,” Cartwright said.
A few months after they started dating, as they got more serious and spent more time together, Snyder suggested they get married.
“We’re at the end of our lives, but we still fell in love with each other,” Snyder said, adding that he felt it wasn’t enough just to be together. He wanted to make it official.
“That was the last thing on my mind,” said Cartwright, who initially wasn’t in favour of getting married, but over time, she warmed to it. “We really did fall in love. I didn’t know it could happen again.”
In July, they decided to get their families together ‒ Cartwright and Snyder each have three children ‒ to discuss the idea of them tying the knot.
“We felt like we needed to talk to them,” said Cartwright, adding that they wanted to be especially sensitive to Snyder’s children, who lost their mother about a year before.
When they told their collective children they had some news, Cartwright’s son jokingly said: “Are you pregnant?” to his mother.
Although they were somewhat shocked, to the couple’s relief, their families approved of the couple’s plan to get hitched.
“I was extraordinarily excited,” said Donna Snyder, one of Snyder’s three daughters. “My dad had been the most devoted husband, and it had been a really rough end-of-life for my mother and for him, caring for her. I couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than having a second love.
“I think it’s going to help them both stay alive longer,” she added. “Certainly, it’s going to help them enjoy life to the fullest.”
Plus, Donna Snyder said, “when we first met her family, we just bonded.”
Cartwright’s kids agreed.
“We loved them instantly,” said Catherine Todd, Cartwright’s daughter. “Bernard is so sweet, and he has just lovely daughters. They’ve been very welcoming to Mom.”
And so began the wedding planning process. They settled on November 1 for their wedding date and decided to have the ceremony in the gazebo of Westminster, and the reception in a hall at the retirement home. They invited about 40 guests to the ceremony ‒ mainly close family and a few friends ‒ and 130 people to the reception.
Snyder is Jewish and Cartwright is Protestant. The couple wanted to have an interfaith ceremony, with both a rabbi and a pastor present, but the pastor misunderstood the ceremony start time and ended up arriving late, so the rabbi did the ceremony solo.
“The rabbi did a wonderful job, I was very impressed,” said Cartwright.
As Snyder broke the glass ‒ a Jewish wedding tradition ‒ everyone cheered. Their late-life marriage, which was first reported by KVUE, also brought joy to staff and residents throughout the retirement community.
“Our residents and associates have found their newfound love and relationship very heartwarming and inspiring,” said Chuck Borst, the executive director of Westminster. “Who doesn’t love a great love story?”
Two days after the wedding, Gayle Adarmes, Cartwright’s daughter, took Snyder and Cartwright to visit their respective late spouses’ gravesites. They brought a flower arrangement left over from the wedding for each of them. It was Snyder’s idea.
“It was really sweet,” said Adarmes. “Every time I think about it, I get teary eyed.”
Snyder and Cartwright said married life is so far, so good.
“We love each other more every day,” Cartwright said.
They still have separate apartments, though they mostly stay at Cartwright’s. They’re in the process of finding a place that is big enough for both of their belongings.
The couple said they hope their story reminds people to never give up on love.
“There’s hope,” Cartwright said. “We want everyone to have what we have.”