Being in the same phase of life has its advantages when it comes to relationships.
I wish Alfred was my age because we would have the luxury of growing old together and sharing life’s experiences. We’d both be energetic lovers, without complaining over an achy knee, a tired back, and feeling sleepy at noon. We’d have an economical advantage by having two incomes growing the household instead of just one.
If I was 70 years old, I may feel content living a retired lifestyle and taking a nap during the day. I wouldn’t have goals and dreams and plans of going to graduate school. I may be happy making dinner and doing light housework. I would have a small dog on my lap and eat candy while I had a fish in the smoker. I could go to the local pub on a Wednesday at 2:00 p.m. for some socializing and a drink before others got off work and made the place crowded. My professional goals would be accomplished. My sons would be raised and have families of their own. I could go fishing and camping and spend a few days on the river during the week without having to get approval from the boss. I could wake up naturally instead of to the scream of an alarm. Alfred would be happy to have someone around the house taking care of him and just being a full-time companion. I’m certain our dynamics would be much different.
If Alfred was 45 years old, he would be in the prime of his career and ready to move up. He would be sending his daughter to college. His dark hair would have some flecks of silver on the edges instead of being entirely white. He wouldn’t need me to read the menu at the café on the days he forgot his reading glasses. He would have a strong back to cut wood for the bonfire and drive a taller pickup truck that he could step up into. He would have his own motorcycle to drive on our Saturday afternoon cruise. He’d be a valuable member of the household—fixing the family vehicle, walking the dog, taking out the trash, mowing the lawn, fixing the TV, bringing in an income and paying the bills.
I wish I was 70 years old, because then I would understand him and his life better. I can’t look back and remember what it was like to be 70 years old. Alfred understands and remembers what it was like to be 45 years old, though.
Alfred gets his excitement and high-speed action when we get together. For me, the weekends together are a time to slow down, relax, take a nap, cut some wood, have a drink over the bonfire, and enjoy a slow pace. Even when we are together, our perspectives of our time together are much different, yet we both find a very peaceful and enlightening experience with each other.
If you are content living a day at a time and not having long-term plans for a future in your May-December relationship, it works. If you appreciate each other in the moment, it works. If you have a spontaneous nature, it works. If you have peace and happiness living in the moment, it works. But if you have long-term goals for a partnership for your future, and want a similar lifestyle, the obstacles can be enormous.
I have decided to be content with the age difference and live life a day at a time. I appreciate the time shared together. Love, trust, friendship, and companionship do not come easy, and when they did, I grabbed them. If my level of contentment ever changes, it will certainly change the path of our May-December relationship. That’s how it is. Nobody is promised a tomorrow, and who knows, perhaps Alfred, at 25 years my senior, will outlive me.