‘Never too late to love’: Grass Valley’s very own Bonnie and Clyde love story | Opinion

While our local romantic duo may not have been as notorious as the nefarious Depression-era bank robbers with the same first names, Clyde Behr and Bonnie Alexander gave our town a much more wonderful legacy.

Bonnie and Clyde met through a shared caregiver, who told each of them that they should meet. Bonnie, 89, my mother, had moved from her home of 53 years in Phoenix to live with me. Clyde, 92, was a proud Hawaiian transplant, living at Grass Valley’s Spring Hill Manor Rehabilitation & Convalescent Hospital.

Unlike the famously impetuous Bonnie and Clyde, our duo’s relationship took on a snail’s pace. After sending notes, cards and thoughtful gifts back and forth via their match-making caregiver, it was two full years before Bonnie decided it was finally time to meet.

My mother had always been a true fashionista — her hair was always perfectly coiffed on Fridays by her hairdresser. Bonnie’s outfits were color and style coordinated with matching shoes and purse. She saw no reason why age or frailty should get in the way of looking superb.

For her first introduction to Clyde, she carefully chose her outfit and jewelry. She chose to ditch her walker and, instead, be wheeled into Spring Hill Manor. Clyde was hooked up to oxygen and wheelchair bound, so she wanted to be at his level to make him feel comfortable.

News about Bonnie and Clyde’s meeting was eagerly anticipated. As Bonnie arrived, Spring Hill Manor residents and caregivers lined the entry and hallway and called out, “It’s Bonnie…meeting Clyde!”

When the two met face to face, it was as if they had known and loved each other forever. He took her hand and they chatted the afternoon away. Both had a new light in their eyes, and a renewed energy miraculously appeared. Somehow, they transformed, looking years younger. When they reluctantly became tired, Clyde kissed Bonnie goodbye, asking for her promise that she would be back very soon.

Fridays henceforth became special for everyone. Spring Hill Manor resident and caregivers’ excitement never diminished when they saw Bonnie arrive, admiring her latest outfit. Bonnie’s friends and caregivers always asked for a “Clyde Report.”

The two would talk and laugh for hours. Clyde’s earlier life had been full of travel, and he would take Bonnie on exciting memory tours. Her favorite was to Egypt, riding on camels with the feeling of being so small in the shadow of the Great Pyramids. They both relived the beauty of the ocean waters in Hawaii, and the thrill of the curtain rising at a Broadway performance. Clyde shared with Bonnie details of his former high-powered job, and she told him about the challenges of her former career as an Avon District Manager, handling over 200 Avon ladies.

They spoke respectfully and lovingly about their spouses, wanting each other to somehow know them in a way only a widow or widower could truly understand.

Bonnie learned that Clyde loved to have someone read to him, but trying to read was embarrassing and difficult for eyes that were steadily failing. However, Bonnie was determined to do something he enjoyed, so she would select a short reading of something fun and amusing or inspiring and meaningful and carefully practice reading it until it was almost from memory. They also recited Bible verses together, exploring their shared Christian faith.

A particularly sweet moment was when Clyde looked intently into Bonnie’s face and told her how beautiful she was.

On warm weather visits, they would ask to be wheeled outside to the gazebo. Soaking in the warm sunlight, they loved the song of the birds that no one else seemed to hear. Oftentimes, they would just sit together silently, content to just hold hands.

Soon, they discovered a mutual love of dancing. Clyde announced his desire to take Bonnie dancing, so he vowed to put extra time into his physical therapy sessions to get out of his wheelchair and lead her around the dance floor. They both knew it was an impossible dream, but they could still be dreamers. And, as a consolation prize, they talked about dancing together in heaven.

After one very special Friday meeting, Bonnie’s caregiver was wheeling her back to the car. Bonnie asked her to stop to look at a magnificent sunset that lit up the entire sky, casting a golden glow on everything. Bonnie sadly whispered, “I’m never going to see Clyde again.”

And so it was.

As much as Bonnie mourned the loss of her “dear Clyde,” she felt so grateful to have known such a wonderful man and to have loved again. She loved telling people about the blessing of having a boyfriend at 89.

Bonnie and Clyde remind us that love is the most important thing. It can create a twinkle in a clouded eye, turn an average face into a beautiful sunshine and a routine step into a skip. Their love showed everyone that it’s never too late to love.

Bonnie passed away months later, with a picture of her and Clyde by her bedside.