Sixty, widowed, and beginning something I should have begun at thirty

My wife died five years ago after a long illness and I nursed her through most of it. I say that at the start because it explains the shape of my life and because I would rather not have to bring it up later.

Sixty, Stockport, in a house that is too big and paid for. Retired from a trade I did for forty two years.

I have no experience of any of this whatsoever. I have known about it since my twenties in the vague way you know things you never intend to act on, and I have spent the last two years reading, and my daughter, who is the only person who knows, has told me to stop reading and do something.

What I am asking for is somebody willing to begin with a man who knows nothing and is not going to be quick. I expect to be awkward. I expect to need things explained more than once.

What I would like eventually is a structured arrangement with duties in it. I can cook, I can do anything practical in a house, I have a van and no commitments at all.

What I do not want: anybody's sympathy, any interest in the nursing years, or to be treated as though I am fragile. I am not fragile. I am late, which is different, and there is nothing to be done about it except start.