This story has three narrators: Candi, Ron, and Cupid – the latter being a pseudonym for a dispassionate, objective  and nonpartisan  observer/historian – distinct from Candi or Ron.

Cupid: This is the love story of two people who had been married to other people for a total of 87 years. Each of those marriages ended tragically with the death  (from pancreatic cancer in both instances) of the spouse.  Neither Candi nor Ron thought that “Love” would ever be a factor in her/his life again. At ages 68 and 74, respectively, they were both still trying to recover from the loss of their spouse. The only difference in their experiences was that in Candi’s case, the fatal illness stretched over seven torturous years, whereas in Ron’s case, there were a mere three months from diagnosis until death.

Both prior marriages had been successful. Each incorporated a happy and loving relationship; children and grandchildren; rewarding careers; financial success; a host of close friends; and many positive experiences (travel, entertainment, etc.). Of course, that only exacerbated the loss in each case.

Experts will tell you that the “normal” recovery period,  that is, the time until: the bereaved stops feeling the overwhelming sense of loss; the dread of facing another ‘empty’ day; the purposelessness, fear, and ennui that engulfs one…they will tell you that the normal length of time until that fog lifts is two years. And they might be right. Both Candi and Ron report that that is roughly what happened in their cases. And then…

Candi: Our “Senior Love”  was initiated by a mutual friend, who was determined to introduce us. She had a strong, intuitive feeling that we would hit it off, and that even if no romance ensued, we would certainly become good friends.  She asked me for a recent picture, which Ron politely declined to take when it was offered to him in August.  He decided in November to ask to see the picture again, then secured my phone number, and bravely followed up with me directly.  We agreed to meet for dinner at a local restaurant.

Ron: The dinner was a very pleasurable experience.  We chatted amiably and easily for over two hours, when I said “…that this had been very enjoyable, would you be willing to do it again this coming Saturday night?”  Candi responded that she would be happy to see me again but would prefer that we do dinner at her house, …”so that she could cook for me.”  I explained that I had “dietary restrictions,” which she clearly understood and so I agreed.

Candi: I was delighted that Ron agreed and I quickly began to plan the upcoming menu. The following Saturday night, he came to my house for dinner, and brought me flowers.  He proceeded to bring me flowers on every occasion that we met for the next year. I think he could see that I was so thrilled to get them, that he didn’t want to ever disappoint me.

Candi: We slowly got to know each other in the following months. Actually, in retrospect, our ‘get acquainted’ period was rather rapid. He stunned me by asking me to a holiday party at his house, with his children and grandchildren, three weeks after we met. That was like being thrown into the “frying pan”, as his progeny and I quickly got to know each other. For them it was a crash course in getting used to having another woman, other than their Mother/Grandmother, spending time with their Father/Grandfather,.

Ron: I had no expectations prior to our first “date,” but I felt an instant sense of comfort in being with Candi. We had been (relatively speaking) neighbors for nearly 40 years (not strictly, we lived in the same area of the County and knew various people in common, but as far as we knew, our paths had never physically crossed). It was clear from almost the first minute that we had similar stories, similar (although not any common) friends, many compatible opinions and values, and tenets. I don’t think I paid any mind as to whether this was a good or bad thing regarding a possible relationship; I just know that I  felt instantly comfortable in her presence and saw no reason why we should not repeat the experience…many times.

Cupid: And so, over the next month, Ron and Candi dated several times per week – more dinners, the movies, a museum, an evening with a couple who were close friends of Candi’s, and of course the famous holiday party with Ron’s progeny.

Candi: During that month we spent a lot of time in each other’s homes. In both cases, there were many family photos, including, of course, of the deceased spouse. Rather than a threat, I think each of us was encouraged and reassured – that the other had built a loving and successful home. So not a threat; rather a reassurance. We also interacted with the other’s progeny. It began somewhat awkwardly, but actually was quite helpful in the long run. It laid the foundation for the eventual  “melding of two families into one!”

Ron: It is worth mentioning an unusual encounter that occurred at the end of that month. We spent New Year’s Eve at my house, watching the ball drop, and being interviewed (via FaceTime) by a group of my friends, who traditionally spent New Year’s Eve together. I’m sure that they didn’t see it as an interview, but that’s the best way to describe it. They were plumbing the depths of our relationship – trying to ascertain whether this was a casual relationship, or indeed a serious one involving sincere commitment, even love. I think by the time it was over, it was clear – to them and to us – that it was the latter that was in play.

Candi: After several months, we established a schedule wherein we would stay at each other’s houses a few times a week.  Remarkably, we quickly established  routines for cooking, shopping, entertaining, and even travel. We oscillated staying over at each other’s houses.  I would always look to see if he brought his “overnight” bag when he came for dinner, as he seemed to be the “lead” in the relationship about how much time we spent together, and I just followed his lead.  It was obvious that we were developing a deeper relationship, and that we enjoyed each other’s company, and had a lot in common.  We shared the same religion, same interests in music, theater, sports, and … politics (mostly). We both specialized in the fine art of long-term, close relationships with friends and colleagues.  There were some issues on which we didn’t see eye-to-eye, which is to be expected. But, miraculously, our positions seemed to coalesce and our differences to fade as we spent more and more time together.

Cupid: So, we arrive at, say, the 6-month point. Candi and Ron are completely adjusted to their new life. They see each other constantly – albeit, they continue to maintain two abodes. By any reasonable definition, they are in love. All the common signs are manifest: each thinks about the other constantly; they are extremely happy in each other’s company; each is solicitous of the other’s needs and wants; and they are physically attracted to each other.

What distinguishes their Senior Love from a “young love” are the following:

• They recognize clearly their feelings, then rationally evaluate them and decide they are healthy, appropriate and worth pursuing.
• They see the “flaws” in the other; decide they pale in comparison to the “positives”; and rationally decide to pursue the relationship.
• They appreciate what is happening to them, and revel in it.
• They decide to marry.

Well, the last item does not distinguish between Senior and Junior Love – but for Ron and Candi, it seems like a miracle rather than a natural occurrence. Now let’s continue the narrative…

Ron: It is remarkable how much time we spent in the company of our dearest friends. Nary a week passed without several engagements, each with another couple – friends of one of us. It was like each of us was auditioning the other before an audience of cherished friends. Fortunately, all tests were passed, and amazingly, each of our friends became both of our friends rather quickly. Indeed, all of our friends seemed to accept us as a couple, welcoming the “new” member of the relationship as if she/he had been the “partner” all along.

Candi: The Children were harder, which is to be expected.  The Grandchildren  accepted the “new Grandparent” very quickly; the Children came along more slowly.  But over time, they relented and eventually, enthusiastically participated in an extended/melded family that shares holiday gatherings and Birthday celebrations.  We continue to be close to our Children and Grandchildren; our children refer to the partner affectionately as their Stepparent. And, as implied above, we have been very successful in joining our respective “friend” groups together, with each accepting the new member. It has been very heartwarming to experience, and to be part of these new groups.

Cupid: Having reached this stage of the story, it is possible now to point out a few more characteristics of Senior love that are different from the Junior variety:

• Having many more relationships (than a junior person); in particular, some lifelong close friendships, a senior lover is more cognizant and solicitous of the compatibility – and acceptance – between their close friends and their lover.
• Junior lovers are often jealous or resentful of their lover’s prior relationships. Not the case with Senior lovers.
• Finally, the level of awareness and appreciation for the miracle that has befallen them easily exceeds the same for their junior counterparts.

Cupid: Now let’s accelerate the story. After an 18-month courtship as described above, Candi and Ron decide to marry and cohabit. Actually (as specified above), cohabitation preceded marriage by six months. That that is probably a shorter time frame than typically occurs with younger folk is another distinction separating Senior and Junior courtships.

Well, perhaps it’s a bit trite to just say “…that they lived happily ever after.” But five years have passed, and Candi and Ron have enjoyed a happy, loving, fruitful and devoted relationship throughout the entire period.

Candi:  Love is always compelling, and we’re fortunate to be part of a “loving relationship” again in our lives.  I feel that it is more intense, as everything seems to be as you age.  Moreover, relationships need constant nurturing, and tending, so, I don’t feel that it is any harder to sustain than any earlier such relationship.

In fact, Ron and I are both “relationship” people.  We know how to nurture the connections, both to earlier friendships, and newer relationships.  I’m very proud of the way that we have both cultivated those connections to our past, and to our future.

The intimate friendships that each of us enjoyed at the time of our meeting have been preserved. Miraculously perhaps – although I think we were both suited to the task – we have converted those relationships to foursomes, whereby all of the close friends of one of us have become close friends of both of us. I think that is a task that is difficult to perform for young couples. How do we sustain the difference from “junior” love, that we have enjoyed?  Amazingly, we continue to find commonalities in our relationship, and with those who preceded our relationship. Both as a couple, and as part of expanded foursomes, we travel together, we dine together, and we spend time together broadening our  relationships, and making them stronger.

Ron  We’re also fortunate that we have both done the kind of prior financial planning that allows us to make practical decisions without one of us being dependent on the other.  We continue to take care of each other, to maintain each other’s best health, and hopefully, we can forestall the increased obligations and responsibilities of an elderly partner far into the future.  If this changes, I feel confident that we will make the relevant decisions together in our mutual best interest, and that of our families, and friends.

Candi &  Ron: We are SO lucky, and we hope that our luck continues way into the future.  To have a loving relationship at this age, which is only seven years old, and getting better every month, is truly a gift.  We wish each other the best for our future.

Cupid: What a heartwarming story! As the reader has noticed, I have used the narrative to highlight several prominent differences between “Senior Love” and “Junior Love.” I challenge the reader to agree with or refute some or all of them, or to comment on the validity of the idea that there really is any significant difference between Senior and Junior Love. I have asked Ron and Candi to comment, but they were too busy paying attention to one another…

A Second Generation, Octogenarian, Jewish American

Let’s make sure you understand all the words in the title of this essay. They, of course, refer to me, the author of this piece. Alas, octogenarian is clear – I have been sentient for more than 8 decades on this planet. Second generation refers to my ancestry in the United States. My grandparents emigrated from Poland; my parents were born in the United States – ergo, second generation. Now let’s consider the final two descriptors: Jewish and American. The meaning of each is evident – I am a citizen of the USA; and I practice  and adhere to the Jewish faith. (I  also satisfy the classical definition – I was born to a Jewish mother.)

Note there are three adjectives (‘Second Generation’, Octogenarian’, and ‘Jewish’) and one noun (‘American’). But perhaps you detect an ambiguity, or more accurately, a choice. I might have written American Jew instead of Jewish American. That is, instead of describing myself as an American who happens to be Jewish, I might have referred to myself as a Jew who happens to be an American.

Truth be told, I have vacillated between the two most of my life. Much of the time, I considered myself an American, who happened to be Jewish. But at times – usually instigated by events in Israel, although at times in America – I would think of myself in the reverse orientation – that is, a Jew who happened to be an American. And indeed, this is one of those times.

The catastrophic events that have befallen the Jewish people in the last half year have made the choice for me. It is clear that, however I define myself, a tremendous proportion of the world’s population – were they asked to provide a description – would consider me a Jew who happens to be an American.

Which leads me to the point of this essay. Almost anywhere a Jewish person happens to be in this world, the local people will affix the label ‘Jew’ to him and identify him as such before they acknowledge his nationality. The people of the word are fixated on Jews. They think about us, evaluate us, attribute to us certain (less than flattering) traits, blame events on us, fear us, hate us and frequently scheme to banish and/or exterminate us. Whether I think of myself as a Jewish American or an American Jew is immaterial to the folks. To many (most?) of them, I am an American Jew – perhaps a fellow citizen, one whom they might even admire or value – but ultimately, a Jew.

I don’t think I appreciated that previously. But the events – both here and abroad – of the past six months have brought it home in a crushingly painful and transparent manner.

However, I am happy to be able to say that – until recently – I have encountered almost no antisemitism in my life. Oh, there were one or two instances  — in which an institutional decision went against me – wherein I wondered whether antisemitism might have played a role. But there was never any concrete evidence of such; and in most instances, it was probably a false alarm, instigated by my a priori knowledge of historical, institutional antisemitism.

Now I have been fortunate and privileged to live a long, prosperous, healthy and happy life. I had and have a wonderful and devoted family, many close and cherished friends, and talented and cooperative colleagues and co-workers. Of these three groups, all of the first are/were Jewish; most of the second were also Jewish; and a substantial number of the third were too. But I think that all of them – indeed of the vast majority of people who have crossed paths with me in my life – knew that I was a Jew…and of course also an American. No matter…I was both; no one bothered to think about which was a noun and which was an adjective.

Or so I thought. But things have changed in the last few months. Blatant, overt and flagrant expressions of antisemitism emanate from: the nation’s elite educational institutions, portions of the media, the halls of big business, and in labor unions, foundations, cultural institutions and other organizations – especially if dominated by the progressive left.

It is mind-boggling to me – in at least three senses. First, that this ancient disease continues to rear its ugly head – nearly three millennia since its inception. Second, despite incessant recitations of ‘never again’ since the holocaust, here it is. And third, that its grotesque appearance is rampant in the ‘enlightened’ West – even in the United States.

I lived almost all of my life with little thought or worry about antisemitism. Which squares with my happy life. How cruel that in my ninth decade on this planet, I must now worry about it. And I do:

• During shul on Shabbat (synagogue on Saturday for the gentile audience), I cannot help but plot my path to the nearest exit should an attack occur.
• My Magen David (Jewish Star) is tucked under my shirt rather than displayed on my chest.
• I wouldn’t dream of wearing my kippa (skull cap) in public outside shul.
• And worst of all, I’m thinking twice about the wisdom of publishing this essay – although I expect the readership will probably be largely Jewish….right?

I am so glad that my grandparents came to America. I love America. I love being an American. But I also love being Jewish. I treasure the spirituality, the history, the literature, the philosophy, the ceremony, the morality, the brotherhood, and the code of life. Yet I also love the Constitution and the freedom it affords me. I love the beauty and grandeur of the American continent, America’s magnificent accomplishments and its devotion to the protection of liberty. Incidentally, when I say ‘accomplishments,’ I am thinking not only of defeating fascism and communism, but also of providing a  laboratory – that is, the society – in which the citizens are free to govern themselves.

How fortunate am I to be a member of these two great civilizations – the USA and Am  Yisrael (the people of Israel). What a blessing to have the choice – equally valued, i.e.., to be a Jewish American or an American Jew. That I am losing the choice is a tragedy.

Ron Lipsman

April, 2024

Potomac, Maryland

How can what be? Well, relatively recently, I slipped into my ninth decade of existence on this planet. How can that be?! It seems only yesterday that I was running around the Pelham Projects  (a tenement community in the Bronx, NY) with my 7-year-old buddies; playing ‘cops and robbers’ and ‘stick ball.’ I remember vividly their faces, their names and the special traits (in each) that caused me to look upon each with favor, or disfavor. Amazingly, I am still close friends with a few of them; although I have long lost touch with most – including one who has died.

Which leads me to ruminate about three aspects of ‘growing old.’

• First, why it pained me to write the penultimate clause of the last sentence of the last paragraph.
• Second, isn’t it remarkable that I have been able to sustain a close relationship with a person (not my spouse) who first crossed my path three quarters of a century ago? How common is that? And are such relationships more meaningful and/or more valuable than, say, a relatively short-term friendship?
• Lastly, how is it possible that, even at this ‘late hour,’ I and my old friends are engaged in planning future events, trips and celebrations – even a decade into the future? Is that wise? realistic? Is it typical or uncharacteristic of our cohort?

To the first point, what exactly was painful about the afore-mentioned clause? The answer: because thinking about the astounding number of people with whom I have crossed paths in my life, but who are now completely out of my life, is disturbing. Why so? Well, surely (as implied above), one of the chief purposes of a human life is to build sturdy, trusting, meaningful, lasting  and mutually beneficial relationships – that is, close friendships. And so, one of the barometers for measuring a succcessful life is the size – and quality — of the roster of close personal friendships that one establishes over a lifetime.

Well, I am very fortunate that I can still count among my friends a few people with whom I was friendly as a youth. These friendships are indeed a treasure – they give meaning and value to my life; help me to to tie together the strands of my early life with my life today; and give me a strong sense of accomplishment. What is sad, or ‘painful’ is that it is quite possible that there were more life-long friendships, available to me among the coterie of friends from my youth, that I failed to cultivate. Moreover, the same statement can be made about other individuals I’ve encountered over the years. Indeed, it is sad to acknowledge that I have had scores of: fellow students, colleagues, teammates and indeed relatives, who have left my orbit. Perhaps in some instances because I didn’t work hard enough to cultivate a relationship…a friendship. Alas, lost opportunities!

Well, perhaps I am being silly. How many close friends can one have, after all? Perhaps more than I have/had. I fear that I missed opportunities to get to know some people better and perhaps form a close relationship.

Which leads me to the second point. Yes, I missed some opportunities. But by no means, all of them! Indeed, it is somewhat of a miracle to be able to form and keep life-long, deep, meaningful and treasured bonds of friendship.  It is a blessing that doesn’t come to everyone.  After all, what are the blessings of life? They include: forming a successful, beautiful and bountiful marital union; bearing and raising children; pursuing a meaningful career or avocation, being able to ‘do good’ (charitable work, etc.) and – to reiterate — forming lasting, deep and meaningful friendships. To be able to do the latter,  and spawn some that span a lifetime, is indeed a blessing.

So, finally, to my third point. Of my four grandparents, two lived into their 70s; one to his early 80s; and the last until 90. I was fortunate in that my parents were very young when I was born. And their parents were also young when they were born. All my grandparents were in their late 40s/early 50s when I was born. (Incidentally, they all attended my wedding 21 years later.) My earliest clear memories of them date to when I was 6-7 years old – they were in their late 50s/early 60s. By the time I was a late teen and interacted meaningfully with them, they were in their late 60s/early 70s. But at that time, and even earlier, they were old. At least that’s how I remember them. Not just them. Most of the 70-year-old people I have met in my life presented as ‘old’ to me. And they were. Most would not survive another decade; and in that decade, they were plagued with maladies of various sorts and severities.

But that has changed dramatically in the last decade or so. Now when I look around at my octogenarian friends, virtually no one gives off an ‘old’ vibe. Yes, there are more aches and pains than there used to be, but my friends don’t see themselves as old, don’t behave like old people, and don’t consider themselves to be at the end of their life. I hope I also fit into that category. Like them, I try not to present myself as ‘old’. For example, I still exercise regularly – including robust swimming; my friends are still playing pickle ball, golf and tennis — OK no football, but yes softball. They and their wives are still traveling, socializing, volunteering, and even working some. I like to think that having life-long friends reinforces this youthful attitude.

Well, the grim reaper has a way of catching us off guard. My late wife (felled by a short bout with pancreatic cancer nearly a decade ago at the age of 71) can attest to that. But the experts tell us that, on average, people are living longer – and healthier while doing so. My dear friends are testimony to that assertion.

Well, I hope I have not put a curse on them (or myself). My new younger wife (mid 70s) assures me that my recognizing their ‘youth and vitality’ is wisdom from me and a blessing for them. And so, my youthful octogenarian friends reveal ‘how that can be!’

Ron Lipsman

Potomac, MD

July 2024