Ode to a late-life marriage

There’s the Social Security donut hole…the Medicare gap…

But have you heard about the late-life marriage strap?

It’s an institution that really yokes us together

Like workhorses in all of its good and bad weather.

Yes, we seem to go awfully well with each other.

We’re partners and friends, like a good sister and brother.

It’s only been two years now, but both of us have found

We’re on such solid footing and have much common ground

That we already manage to take each other for granted.

We’re actually blessed because our lives are slanted

Straight into the winds that could buffet and haunt.

We’ve truly found late-life marriage something to flaunt.

I was 69 and he just four months younger

Yet we had to satisfy our mutual hunger.

For companionship we rushed without falter

When we took that clandestine trip to the altar.

Friends told us, after we’d each lost our spouses,

That we were too young to just take a bye

And sit out the rest of our lives being too shy.

Go ahead, take a risk, combine your two houses.

Though set in our ways, each carrying baggage,

We get along fine, just like carrots and cabbage.

He fixes breakfast and lets me follow my passion

For writing and reading and social media fashion.

In turn I don’t complain when he heads out to help

A neighbor or friend who calls with a yelp

And a project that consumes his time and expertise

While honey-dos at home stop short of my “please!”

I’ve learned that my hubby strives to be of service,

Even though he’s retired, without work he gets nervous.

We’re learning to make allowances, each for the other,

Me for his hoarding and him for my late husband’s stepmother.

Even through the new challenge of social isolation

Who better to share the platform of our pandemic station?

We’ve truly found a kinship and a love so mature

That it promises to treat old age with a sure cure.