As of today, I'm married to a seventy-one-year-old guy. When we said our vows in 1962, I imagined us being old together. I was visualizing our then-cute selves, slightly wrinkled and a little bent over. I'm glad I didn't know the reality of aging--the little aches and pains that slow us down, the crabby, snappish retorts we make when we hear the same complaints or opinions repeatedly, the fatigue that settles in hours earlier than in our youth (say, right after dinner?), the loss of elasticity in so many ways. And the wattles! We both are getting them.
But I'm delighted to celebrate this family milestone! I love my old man.