Posted by Vale
Here on the blog we often rail against society’s thoughtless pursuit of longevity. Rightly so – it is cowardice not kindness that endorses the suffering that medicine – seemingly without reflection or conscience – prolongs.
But it’s important to remind ourselves that it isn’t always so; that old age can bring wisdom and unlooked for joys as well.
In the New York Times recently, in piece called The Race Grows Sweeter Near Its Final Lap, Eve Pell tells the story of the love she found. She writes:
Old love is different. In our 70s and 80s, we had been through enough of life’s ups and downs to know who we were, and we had learned to compromise. We knew something about death because we had seen loved ones die. The finish line was drawing closer. Why not have one last blossoming of the heart?
I was no longer so pretty, but I was not so neurotic either. I had survived loss and mistakes and ill-considered decisions; if this relationship failed, I’d survive that too. And unlike other men I’d been with, Sam was a grown-up, unafraid of intimacy, who joyfully explored what life had to offer. We followed our hearts and gambled, and for a few years we had a bit of heaven on earth.
Not only was I happy during my short years with Sam, I knew I was happy. I had one of the most precious blessings available to human beings — real love. I went for it and found it.
It’s a moving story of love and age and I defy you read to the end without a tear in your eye. Read it here