Valentine's Day special, part two: We've got that geezer love
Geezer love is grand, especially if you’ve been searching forty-nine years for the one.
You might be on the way to that eleventh year anniversary while giving thanks and avoiding paths to a painful death or disability.
One of my partner’s favorite stories is about the time she was looking at disingenuous online dating profiles, oozing with BS like walks on the beach and sitting by an open fire.
She had been widowed ten years with three kids, amidst the high stress of Physician Assistant school, and was old enough to be the mother of most of her classmates.
In 2009, on a free dating site called plentyoffish.com, she found me, with a profile that stated, “I don’t know about this online dating thing, but I like to contra dance. If anyone wants to contra dance, contact me.”
So, she did. She had only contra danced once before reading my profile- before I had ever actually tried it- and wanted to do it again. I felt lucky beyond measure and silently thanked my previous copy editing experience in advertising.
I have been rhythmically impaired all my life and could never dance. I only discovered late in life what contra dancing is and that it requires no more than walking around, following directions and listening to good music.
We first met in person at a local dance in North Charleston. I was on the Charleston Folk Board and had arranged an unusual venue when the normal one was unavailable.
Our meeting was unconventional, to say the least. I accidentally frightened her while she sat in her car, in the dark, applying lipstick before coming inside.
After the shock wore off, we went in and I danced with her. Since changing partners is the norm, I led her dance by dance to other great partners, so that maybe she would love contra dancing as much as I do. When two people are together doing something they love, they don’t want it to end.
It took five years to get from a part-time relationship to full-time. She graduated six months after we met and said, “It’s been nice…see ya!”
As I moved her off to the boonies of Walterboro, Fairfax, Barwell and, more recently, Aiken, she couldn’t stick around. She wanted to serve in a rural clinic, partly for loan repayment through the National Health Service Corps, but she couldn’t get rid of me.
In these years, we’ve shared friends and family, more travel than I can remember, and the life (and death) of loved ones. Before we even lived together, her dog, cat, and kids lived with me.
We know who we love and we know who we want to look out for. We know who is going to take care of us when we are not at our best.
Be patient and find the right one, no matter how long it takes. One of you might know before the other and that’s OK too.
