When I'm Sixty-Four

Linda Burks Lohman

Love one another and you will be happy. It's as simple and as difficult as that.
~Michael Leunig

I am sixty-four, just like in the old Beatles song. And I am in love! It is written that ladies don't find love at this age. Do you realize that the odds for a woman of sixty-four to find a match are about 100 to 1? Is it any wonder that I am giddy as a schoolgirl? I feel as giddy as I did over my first boyfriend, Doug McCoy, when I was fourteen.
Widows my age are doomed to life with a cat. Being allergic to cats, I was doomed to a life alone. But it was not meant to be.

I gave up on men. I'd been married twice. One I ran out and one I wore out. I was widowed for nearly twenty years and quite content. At least that's what I thought. But my friend Norma from square dancing insisted she knew my perfect "mate." When I finally gave in and consented to meet, it was absolutely love at first sight.
I'd always downplayed love at first sight. Even though Dad declared that Mom would be the woman he would marry the first time he laid eyes on her. Did it run in the family? Was I doomed before the first meeting? And why did this happen at sixty-four?
I'm supposed to be an old woman. Yet I feel like I've taken a Fountain of Youth pill. I'm suddenly dressing to kill, or at least to walk out of the house. Exercising! Eating more carrots than chocolate and sharing them with my love. And I am on a high! No drugs are needed! No alcohol, no cigarettes. I'm going to live forever and take care of my new love.
I look across the room at the hairy chest peeking out from the argyle sweater I just bought. Not a word of complaint. I vowed I would never fall for another hairy chest again. God must have laughed at all those times I said "never." He sure did have other plans.
And unlike the Beatles song, "When I'm Sixty-Four," my soul mate has plenty of head hair. No bad comb-over. How could I get this lucky?
And manners. I receive hand kisses that make my knees weak. Who knew the palm of the hand was an erogenous zone? Why wasn't I told? I thought I knew everything I needed to know about life.
Our romantic walks reveal new sights and smells I experience now that I am in love again. It truly doesn't matter where we go. Everything is more exciting when you experience it through the eyes of a lover. We even went to the hardware store to check out a new doorbell and had a fabulous time.
Stingy? No. In fact, the Baptist Church in my neighborhood would be the recipient of several anonymous donations left out front if I hadn't stepped in. After all the Beth Yeshua Messianic is directly across the street, and we do not play favorites.
My family has even come to accept us as a couple. They do, of course, recognize the good breeding and aristocratic demeanor. Our studio portrait is my favorite photo of all.
I believe that men in my age category are looking for Barbie Dolls and eye candy. I'm certainly not qualified in either of those areas. And I admit that sometimes when we are out and about I feel a pang of jealousy when my companion shows interest in someone else. But then, those big brown eyes turn to me with the look of adoration I know so well. That brown mustache can't hide the smile I feel in my heart.
How could I have been so foolish as to think love had died with my late husband? I never knew there was a Yorkie named Lucy that was ready to show me what love at sixty-four was all about.
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