Old Age is Just Concept

I was jogging at the park with my dog Pongo the other day, and seated on a bench under a shady tree were two senior citizens. No doubt a married couple of some 40 or 50 years I thought, but these days you never know. Maybe they just met. But what caught my eye wasn’t the fact that they were sitting together at the park. No, what got my attention was that they were involved in some serious petting. Apparently they forgot that their best years were supposed to be behind them.

I had a few miles still to go and as fate would have it I had to pass these two lovebirds every 500 yards or so. Every time Pongo and I jogged by, I tried not to look at these two and their obvious affection for one another. At least I hoped it was mutual. I think you can tell when a woman doesn’t want to be kissed, or is being kissed but is really thinking of making dinner for the kids. No, these seniors and their passion looked genuine.

The last time I kissed a pair of wrinkled lips I was 8 years old and visiting my grandmother. Not every senior citizen can sport a libido like Hugh Hefner. But I’d like to think that care for seniors has improved to such an extent as to make it possible. If programs for seniors can involve everything from health and fitness to investing in the stock market then I imagine there are programs for seniors that focus on a healthy love life after age 65. I have a ways to go before that becomes yet another thing I worry about, but if such topics are offered when I am at that particular care-for seniors-crossroad, then you can bet I’ll be signing up.

So I came to a conclusion while jogging. If these two seniors were in love or even in “lust” then at least they’re involved in something that gets their hearts beating. After all these years, I’m still in love with my wife, and I can tell you I’d rather it be the thought of her that gets my pulse racing than jogging 5 miles. The train of thought is that any aerobic activity is good for you if done at least 3 times a week and for 40 minutes or more. Looking at these two spring chickens it’s no wonder both of them had cracked 65 years of age some time back with no signs of slowing down. Maybe love is the secret of eternal youth after all.

Having established that, when I’m over age 65, I hope I can just stand up; let alone worry about the hydraulics of any other part of my anatomy. In another 30 years, when my wife and I are sporting enough wrinkles to make our faces look like a roadmap, I hope I can at least remember what it was like when she made my heart go pitter-patter. Anything beyond that will only be a bonus.