Affection, Love, Romance in the Twilight Years

I had a visit yesterday from my granddaughter and her children.  I enjoyed it very much.  There isn't a great deal of social activity at the age of ninety years.  It isn't that we don't desire it.  We just don't have many friends who are still around and active.

I stay in touch with many people through e-mail and Facebook.  A few of us have met in person, spoke a few words, maybe had our photos taken.  Never a chance to really get acquainted.  Our contacts through the computer are very important and prevents loneliness.  To meet in person is a treasure.  Usually such meetings are in a group and for a very limited time.  Age does not put an end to the desire to spend more time with certain people.  The elements that attract us are totally different than most young people understand.

The curvature of the body or the muscular arms, the graceful movements on the dance floor, the sexual attraction of youth loses its importance compared to mutual interests and just the enjoyment of being in each others presence.  My late wife and I were such; just hours driving down a road or sitting together, perhaps watching a movie, but doing nothing but enjoying being together.

Contrary to popular opinion, marital sex doesn't cease to be important but that, too, assumes a peaceful aspect instead of a tempest.

In our visit, My granddaughter made comment how she and others thought a certain lady and I, in a photo, appeared to be 'in love' or 'sweethearts'; I forget her exact terms.  It set my mind to thinking.  I have friendly affection for several women that I have met in person; enjoyed our brief visits and chatting on the computer.  Most regard me as their grandfather.

Would I welcome a presence in my life, a pleasant voice, the touching of hands?  Yes, I would.  Have I forgotten the pleasure of an affectionate hug or kiss?  No I have not.  Am I looking for a wife?  No, I am not.  Consider that the women I hold such affection for were unborn or in diapers when I returned from the Army.  I have children about that age.

The lady in that photo?  She could not be more special.  My affections are like the cottonwood tree, perhaps a pleasant moment of shade, a nuisance blown on the wind, and fruitless.