Running by the ocean early this morning I saw a very old but romantic couple taking what appeared to be their morning walk together. She was using a cane, and they wore matching baseball caps to shade them from the sun, though their well-wrinkled tanned faces spoke of years of sun. The cutest part? They were holding hands and chatting amicably.
That’s what I want, I thought as I ran past them. That’s the key. Doing things together, holding hands, talking, even after 60 years. (I know, they could by newlyweds who met online at geriatricslookingforlove.com, but in my mind they were high school sweethearts.) My parents had 54 loving years together. My boyfriend’s parents have had 55 already. And, for the first time in my life, I picture myself with my boyfriend when we’re in our 80’s, taking our morning hikes, stopping to laugh at something together, holding hands when the terrain permits.
I ran home and got my teenage son, and less than an hour later we were walking to the local tennis courts together to hit some balls.
“Look Mom,” he said. “They’re so cute.”
I looked where he pointed and there was another geriatric couple, taking what appeared to be their early morning walk together. They were holding hands and chatting happily.
I was so pleased that he was cognizant enough to recognize how adorable this couple was. I am hopeful that both of my children will find their lifelong partners long before I did, and that each of them will be taking walks, or pilates classes, or whatever the next healthy old people’s exercise is together long after I’m gone…