“When I’m…64???” (Yikes.)

You can’t imagine how old and wretched I pictured this age when I first heard Paul McCartney’s song back in 1967. I still have about ten days to go, but can’t help comparing the lyrics then to the reality today…

When I get older losing my hair
Many years from now…

My husband Randy (also sixty-four) has full tresses that turned gray in his thirties, but of course, he looks distinguished. Thank God, I still have hair and because of Robin, my hairdresser, it’s a nice medium brown. So far, so good in the hair-losing department.

Will you still be sending me a Valentine
Birthday greetings bottle of wine

Every Valentine’s Day and birthday, for over forty years, Randy has given me a beautiful bouquet of flowers, usually red or pink roses. Because my husband never does anything halfway, sometimes two or three bunches. As for wine, anyone who knows us is chuckling right now. Wine procurement in the Stone house is not a problem.

If I’d been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door

My musician husband has seen many a wee hour. As for me? I haven’t been outside at quarter to three since I was twenty-five. In fact, if you see me outside your door at quarter to three, it means I’ve gone mad, and by all means, lock up.

Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four

I’m not an ambitious cook but have fed Randy in my own utilitarian way over the years. And yes, I still need that guy who drove me in his mustard-colored 1976 Mercury Capri along the Connecticut coast between college classes. We’d sing along to the Beatles, including this song, shaking our heads at the doddering, old couple it portrayed.

You’ll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you

Of course, we had no idea we’d be that doddering, old couple. He was the tall, funny guy that held court in the university snack bar. I was the smart-ass English major he was always debating.

But here we are, four decades later. Along the way, we raised two little boys who are now two bearded young men. We still debate, hug, plan, talk, work, kiss, squabble, laugh, sleep with each other each night, wake up next to each other each morning, and try and navigate this sometimes-hard, sometimes-wonderful life together.

I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone

Ahem, (*cough*) my husband has many talents, but handyman stuff is not one of them.

You can knit a sweater by the fireside

I couldn’t knit anything bigger than a postage stamp.

Sunday mornings go for a ride

Where’s the nearest ice cream shop?

Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Again, hard pass.

Who could ask for more?

What you don’t realize when you’re young is how beautiful most of life is, how precious, how you grow to cherish each day. Many of us get to a point where we truly couldn’t ask for more. Gratitude is all we feel. So happy I’m in that club.

Every summer we can rent a cottage
In the Isle of Wight, if it’s not too dear

Isle of Wight’s a bit far, but we’ve managed to rent a cottage on Cape Cod each summer.

We shall scrimp and save

Randy’s first car was a blue Ford LTD. Each morning, he had to open the hood and spray ether into the carburetor to get it going. We scrimped and saved over the years, and I’m proud to say, we now have two cars that start without having to open the hood.

Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck and Dave

Not quite there, but you never know.

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away

Indicating precisely what we mean to say has never been a problem for Randy and me. In fact, we’ve learned over the years to not say precisely what we mean to say, at times. It’s easier and kinder and has saved on lawyer bills.

Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four

Sometimes I want to visit those know-it-all college kids and say, see? We’re not those doddering, miserable old wretches after all. (I think). Life is good, but goddamn, it goes fast. It’s also scary and difficult and sad, sometimes.

But it’s always worth living. And there’s still lessons to learn and joy to be had.

You won’t believe it, kids, but life isn’t so bad when you’re 64.

 

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