12/16/15 - Married on Weekends (A short essay written April 2015)

"The morning light was just beginning to shine through the large single-paned window above her bed. The night before as we laid in bed, we could watch the moon shining through the undulating trees dancing to the silent music of the wind. This morning, as usual, I was awake before her. I rolled over and lifted myself on one elbow and leisurely viewed my companion, the love of my heart. We had spent the night in love’s tender embraces and the taste of her lips lingered in my emotions, sweet as the after taste of a fine wine.

The dark curls of her hair were peeking out beneath the covers as she lay asleep. I could see her face, from beneath the sheet, kind in nature and loving. In her sleepiness she opened her eyes for a moment, not quite awake yet, and she drifted back to slumber once more. She knew I would soon begin to slide my fingers through her curls. I am not sure which of us enjoyed it more. Her hair was always amazingly tangle free, and my fingers would glide from her forehead, across her scalp and slide to the ends of her luxurious hair. In her half-awake state she would murmur a sound of pleasure. I held in my hands the joy of love, comfort and caring.

It was Saturday morning, the middle of our weekend. Our time. We have settled into a weekend routine, her house or mine depending upon our planned activities. I look back now on the three years we have been together and how our love has grown from a simple seed into a budding flower. Oh, we’re not blooming yet, only the future will show us what we will become. But for now, we are happy. Marriage is not in the future, neither is co-habitation. Though neither is ruled out in the future. It’s just that we, having reached our late sixties and seventies, have our own issues and obligations. But the weekends are mostly ours.

We often laugh at ourselves as we sometimes act like over-hormone driven teenagers. “Yes, Virginia there is a Santa Clause” and yes, there is sex after seventy. Well, I’m not quite sure I would use the work “sex”, I would prefer to use “sensuality” and “intimacy”. Something we both had been lacking in the past. She hadn’t been dating for over seven years and was resigned to a singles life. I had been caring for an ailing wife for ten years. When an appropriate amount of time had passed after my wife’s unfortunate demise, I joined a seniors dating web site. My companion, who had just joined the dating site always chides me that she saw me first on the web site, and sent the first email. Hey, I’m not complaining. Our first luncheon “date” lasted into the early evening so I guess we liked each other’s company.

I see that she is beginning to wake up. I slip my hand under the sheets and gently stroke her naked body. Her skin is as smooth as a baby’s. As I gently caress her back and arms I feel the love flow through my fingers, and I feel like I am the luckiest person in the world. I nuzzle my face into her hair and it smells fresh and full of fragrance. I don’t know what she uses, but it sure smells good. I slide my body next to hers as if we are two spoons and I wrap my arm around her. She turns and faces me as I slip my arm under her neck and we lie there gazing into each other’s eyes. She drapes an arm over my body, we touch noses and then a gentle kiss good morning. I gaze into her blue eyes and seem lost in the love that I see there. We squeeze even tighter together and I feel her breast against my chest. I just seem as if it couldn’t get better. Sometimes it does.

We live about one mile apart in the same town. Now that is either fate, or my wife’s spirit is having fun with me. She always wanted me to move on and find a new life after her passing. So I often joke about her putting us together.  My wife and I learned a lot during her last years. Intimacy was rubbing her hair or her feet, which ever she put in my lap as we watched TV. While intercourse was not possible due to uterine cancer, we substituted body massages as our form of intimacy. And to be candid, an hour long tender loving massage seems better than a five second orgasm. This is something I brought forward into my current relationship. Now we have the best of both worlds.

Life is what you make of it, and age is only a number. We agree that what makes it special for us, is that we live two lives: one as friends during the week, and one as new found lovers during the weekend."

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