When he was widowed after almost 35 years of marriage, it seemed as if my dad might not find anyone else to love again. My mum was his first relationship, he had no experience of dating and, even if he had, the dating ecosystem had changed out of all recognition since the days of my parents’ romance in the 70s. There were, of course, plenty of dating apps, subscription sites, singles’ activities and old-fashioned blind dates to contend with, but for him the choice was overwhelming. He would rather have settled for being alone.

Five years after my mum’s death, however, with our father’s stubborn reluctance well and truly established, my brother and I decided to take matters into our own hands. Taking advantage of the effects of the wine we had drunk for his birthday dinner, we downloaded Lumen – an app marketed as “Tinder for over-50s” – to his phone. Then we did an impromptu photoshoot and employed our best copywriting skills to sell him to the lucky ladies in a 10-mile vicinity.

It took him a while to overcome the initial awkwardness of online messaging. He struggled to understand that most people prefer some informal chat before meeting up: he scared off some suitors by suggesting coffee straight away. After a few months of swiping, messaging and meeting up with strangers, he met someone who is now his partner.

With the numbers of single over-50s growing in the UK, matchmaking for our parents is an increasingly likely prospect, and one that can be just as fraught as it is rewarding. For Jack (not his real name), the sudden death of his father in 2007 was devastating for him and his 58-year-old mother. “My mother suddenly found herself a widow, and since my dad was the love of her life, she was so lonely – and terrified at the idea of spending retirement on her own,” he says. “So I suggested internet dating, which was in its infancy at the time, but she wouldn’t contemplate it – she was too shy and I think she thought it may have been a bit vulgar, too.” Feeling helpless at the prospect of his mother’s solitary retirement, Jack decided to set up a page on a dating site without her knowing.

Dating in later life can be puzzling. Composite: Guardian Design; Yuji Sakai/EMS-FORSTER-PRODUCTIONS/MoMo Productions/Dougal Waters/Getty Images

“Looking back, it was a very rash thing to do,” he says. “I even set her age as a couple of years younger than she was because she has always looked young. But, just before I was going to launch the page, my girlfriend at the time persuaded me I had to come clean, and at least get my mum’s blessing.” There followed an awkward confession during which Jack persuaded his mum to give it a try for two months. “She went on a few dates, but didn’t meet anyone special and let her membership lapse,” he says. “That was until she checked back on her email alerts from the site and saw a photo of a widower, James, and decided to pay the £7 rejoining fee.”

Jack was none the wiser until his mum introduced James to him as her boyfriend four months later. “I was shocked and elated,” he says. “They were clearly such a good match, and had hit it off after meeting up through the site. They ended up getting married in 2012, and my mum says that was the best £7 she ever spent. I’m glad I signed her up in the first place and that she was brave enough to take the plunge.”

Julia Godoy’s parents had been separated for more than 10 years when, last summer, her 50-year-old mother decided to venture into the online dating world. “She was very close to a man, and they had a complicated relationship in which they were friends. But perhaps she hoped for more, and then in the summer she found out he was in a relationship and had been lying to her the whole time. She felt really betrayed and lost,” says Godoy. “But a friend of hers who is always on dating apps persuaded her to give it a try to help her move on and take back some control.”

Godoy helped her mother, who was living in France, set up a profile on the French website Meetic, where she had paid for a three-month membership. Then they waited for the dates to start rolling in. “I was so surprised when she decided to sign up because my mum is usually shy and very private,” Godoy says. “But I’m glad she has taken that step.” Now two months into her subscription, her mum has been on a handful of dates. “She still feels awkward about it all, but I want her to keep trying,” she says. “It must all be very intimidating – even I have never signed up to any of the apps or sites – but all you can do is just be supportive to your parents and help them move on when they’re ready. I feel optimistic that she will meet someone soon – she deserves to.”

Before internet dating was an option, Gillian Ross was matchmaking her widowed mother in a more traditional manner. In 1976, Ross, then 16, worked as a bookkeeper in an office where she met an older colleague, Derek. “I was hopeless at my job, and Derek was always so kind in offering to help me,” she says. “Sometimes, when I was walking home, he would see me and offer me a lift in his car and if we saw my mum walking back from her job at a nearby bacon factory, he’d stop to pick her up.” Initially assuming Derek was married because of the neat packed lunch he would bring into work each day, Ross found out that he was divorced with two children, and encouraged her mum to set up a date with him.

Derek came along, and it was another lease of life for Mum – I think she’d given up before then

Ross says: “I was writing out Christmas cards that year, and I said to my mum: ‘Why don’t we send one to Derek and ask him to come for a drink on Boxing Day?’ But she was too embarrassed, and refused. She thought it would be too pushy.” Ross sent the card anyway, and when Derek replied saying he would love to come, the relationship began. “They started going out together every other weekend and getting to know each other – it was so nice to just see her happy with someone. My mum had a really rough time of it. My father died when I was seven and my brother not much older, so she was left with a massive responsibility. Then Derek came along and it was another lease of life for her – I think she’d given up before then.”

The couple remained together for 38 years before Derek died of a brain tumour in 2015. “When Derek was dying, he took my hand and said: ‘Your mum gave me the happiest years of my life – I didn’t start living until I met her.’ They stayed as in love as when they had first met, and it was lovely to know that I had picked him out all those years ago. He really became a dad to me, too.”

Ross is herself divorced, and often finds her two children now trying to act as matchmaker for her. “People say to me: ‘Why don’t you go on Tinder?’ But I’m just not into it – I’d much rather meet people the old-fashioned way,” she says. “My kids have tried to set me up a couple of times because they would like to see me with someone again, but most of the decent men seem to be taken. If I don’t meet anyone, that’s fine by me, but, to be honest, I wish they would set me up more!”