“Love is no respecter of age.” -- Tchaikovsky
Imagine! I’m wearing an engagement ring! At 76 years old!
It’s a plot twist I never saw coming: A love relationship in my 70’s. After all, I’d been on my own since I was 39. Oh, I had read articles about finding a partner, tried a few dating sites, and aside from generating a few stories, e.g., the guy who drove with his parakeet in the backseat, I resigned myself to a solitary life snugged up by my local grandchildren, my church family, and my kitty. Their occasional hugs and kisses kept me going. So did workouts at the Y, singing with the choir, teaching memoir. A simple life.
Then two years ago, Nik phoned me to wish me a happy birthday. I’d known him since we were both 23 when my high school friend, Katie, introduced him as her main squeeze. In fact, I served as matron of honor at their wedding. But weeks earlier, Katie had succumbed to pancreatic cancer. And Nik phoned me.
Thus, began weekly phone conversations 1-2 hours long. As former journalists and friends for 50+ years, we found plenty to talk about: our grandkids, how to kill aphids on the azaleas, zesty ways to cook zucchini, philately, songs from the 60s, the doctrine of Original Sin—no kidding! Any topic was fair game. How we made each other laugh!
Texting, sharing photos and audio clips filled the gaps between phone calls. Then about a year ago, the calls became daily. After our dinners, I could expect a text, “May I call now?” and his deep baritone at 7 pm. When I visited my son’s family in Singapore, 12 time zones away, “Ping!” at 7:00 am meant Nik was ready to bid me “good morning.” Daily.
In this way, we communicated for a year before seeing each other in person. We marked the first anniversary of Katie’s passing separately, then spent a week with each other.
Click!
Was it our shared history? Mutual trust built during those 50+ years? The anticipation generated by a year of sharing daily life? Our extraordinary compatibility? Who knows? Some folks call it “chemistry” or “spark. Whatever it was, we knew within days that we needed to see each other more. Parting became excruciating…so we lengthened our visits together.
When Nik invited my kitty to visit, too, and provided a fleecy hideout for her, I knew he was serious. In due course, kitty spent 2 months with us but could not reach détente with the felines already ensconced in the house for 10 years. Kitty has found a new home elsewhere, but my new home will be with Nik.
Though we are now closer to 80 than to 70, it’s not too late…
During one of our evening phone calls, Nik had sent me a link to Prince Gremin’s aria in the opera “Eugene Onegin” by Tchaikowsky. He translated some of the words for me:
Love is no respecter of age,
Its transports bless alike
Those in the bloom of youth
Yet unacquainted with the world
And the gray-headed warrior tempered by experience…
So many of my older friends marvel at my romantic tale. “Maybe there’s still hope for me!” they sigh. Of course, there is! Love can happen at any age. ###
Invitation:
Describe a plot-twist in your life. Write for 15 minutes.
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