In another letter from the Valley Ho addressed to Nell on April 2, 1966, Virginia writes the following:

One year ago today, I drove Les to the executive depot of this airport, watched that jaunty little blue and white plane roar down the runway, soar upward, wagging its wings in farewell, and point its nose toward a gray and glowering sky. I watched it until it was a tiny speck, with a feeling of foreboding because he was all alone up there, and I knew it would be a grueling trip, which it truly was. How many days, weeks, hours did such hard-headed courage chip away from his life? I wonder. In ten days he'll have been gone six months-half of a year. That's a long, long time.

On the first anniversary of his death, Virginia had a Mass said for Leslie Muter at St. Athanasius in Evanston, the church she had attended since her marriage to Paul. She and Nell, also a Catholic, attended the service together.

Virginia still had long daily hours of deskwork and many board meetings and requisite charity events to attend. On May 14, 1966, as one of seventeen "crusaders" or underwriters, Virginia attended the third annual Saint Francis Crusaders Ball, the entertainment once again provided by one of Virginia's favorites, now a dear friend, Wayne King, the popular saxophonist. She also attended the Arthritis Foundation Benefit at the Arlington Race Track as an "angel" in May 1966.

On August 20, 1966, Virginia hosted a gorgeous, much-publicized dinner dance to thank all those who had been so kind to her since Paul's death seven years earlier. In a letter to Nell dated August 6, 1966, Virginia wrote at length of her plans for her upcoming party and of her strong feeling of an enduring connection to Paul.

I love the crisp brilliance of October with its chain of golden days, each an exhilarating promise faithfully kept,each a priceless gift before the long, grey, blustery confinement of winter. I plan to work in solitude on Sunday, charting my guest seating arrangement. This will take a bit of studious concentration, for I am working with 350 people, 35 tables. I cannot begin to describe my mounting excitement. My feeling must be akin to that of a bride or an actress on her opening night on Broadway, and I have the strangest feeling that Paul shares this excitement with me. He so loved parties, thoroughly enjoyed our prebrainstorming sessions. He was wonderfully creative,imaginative; liked to attempt the unusual; considered nothing impossible. I recall once he rented a roulette table from the Chez Paree, which he installed in the dining room, importing a knowledgeable croupier from somewhere to run the game and donating to Saint Francis Hospital any and all funds which accrued to "the House." How he would love and enjoy this party! I feel an unexplainable "partnership" in all my plans, my decisions, and this "psychic confidence" is enormously supporting to me. I sense it strongly, increasingly, in most everything I do now. I believe this is most significantly why I'll not turn to anyone else if it could not have been Les,whom Paul always admired and enjoyed.

Virginia's dinner dance on August 20 was indeed, with Paul's "partnership," a huge triumph, receiving this special notice in the Chicago Sun-Times:

Graciousness Adds Glow to the Party

One of the most gracious parties of recent social history was given a few nights ago by Mrs. Paul Galvin when she entertained approximately 450 friends in the Guildhall of the Ambassador Hotel. What gave the evening its most glowing moment was the brief speech Mrs. Galvin gave when she took the microphone in front of the orchestra and said, "It gives me great happiness to say that I am delighted to see you all. Each one of you has, during the past seven years, contributed in one way or another to make my life happier, and this moment seems the ideal time to tell you so." The guests were deeply moved and many a person said to himself, "What have I done for Virginia Galvin to compare with what she has done for me?" By any standard the party was unique but in a special way it emphasized the fact that a warmhearted, resourceful woman need not become a social cipher just because she has become a widow. Virginia Galvin is beloved by her friends and associates, and her beautiful party was evidence of the fact that she in turn appreciates every gesture of loyalty they have extended to her since her bereavement seven years ago.

-Mary Dougherty, August 29, 1966

In the fall of 1966, Virginia began keeping company with Howard Morph, a wealthy Santa Barbara industrialist. In a note sent from Las Vegas to Nell Hubata on October 27, 1966, Virginia wrote, "Howard is charming,a soft-spoken, gracious man, one of the most considerate I've known." This initial trip together was followed by a Christmas trip to Hawaii, then a visit to Santa Barbara in January 1967, where Virginia sent postcards to Nell from the Santa Barbara Biltmore.

On January 21, she wrote:

Dearest Chum, The Biltmore is a lovely hotel, right on the ocean, Spanish in decor,I am having a real whirl and enjoying every minute of it. Howard has scads of charming friends here, and they have been wonderful to me.

On January 23:

Hi, Having a simply scrumptious time,one gay party after another,Tonight I am having one myself, eighteen guests,using the facilities at Howard's club. Ken and Dearie are fine. I talk with them each day. They are happy as two little bunnies at the Valley Ho. This is a wonderful time for me. Keep well, my dears. Miss my daily chats with you.

Love, Virginia.

One can hear Virginia's elation, her pleasure in being welcomed by new people in beautiful surroundings and perhaps escaping for a time her role as Mrs. Galvin, widow and philanthropist.

Howard's ensuing trip to Phoenix in February 1967, where he stayed at the Camelback Inn, ushered in a whirlwind romance marked by luxurious travels. Virginia even admitted to Nell, almost breathlessly, that she was being given "the red-carpet treatment." In May 1967, she accompanied Howard on an extended, elegant trip to Europe, visiting Zurich, Salzburg, Vienna, Como, Paris, and Lucerne. In a postcard dated May 20 from Salzburg, Virginia wrote the following to Nell:

-Dearest Chum: Rolling along as though on a platinum pogo stick! Having a simply fabulous time. Beautiful scenery everywhere, lovely accommodations in each spot, delightful traveling companions (especially one!). Lots of laughs and a chance to get better acquainted with a really nice person. Heading for Paris tomorrow and our "finale." Do hate to see this trip come to an end. Hope all is well at home, so anxious to see you.

All my love, Virginia.

Back in Evanston in June, Virginia was briefly hospitalized with a virus, and in an enigmatic note she thanked Nell for her help during a brief period of despair because of her "predicament." In another letter to Nell dated August 11, 1967, sent from the Santa Barbara Biltmore, she wrote, "I feel a little like the last gal in the skating routine, crack the whip, hanging on for dear life and just barely managing to keep up with the terrific pace."

In September, returning to Evanston from a fishing trip with Howard to Lake Tahoe and Flat Rock, Virginia worried that Alma, her housekeeper, was unwell, lamented the stacks of unopened mail, and noted that her nephew Paul was off to the University of Tampa. There is a clear reluctance to return to a myriad of waiting responsibilities in her heavy tone. That fall, she was "angel" for fundraising events for The Cradle and the Saint Francis Ball. Most emotionally poignant, nearly eight years after Paul's death on October 15, Virginia was present at the cornerstone ceremony for the Paul V. Galvin Memorial Chapel and Sheil Center at Northwestern University, blessed by John Patrick Cardinal Cody, head of the Chicago Catholic archdiocese.