Autumn Marriage- Natural vs. Purposeful

?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????Sitting at the kitchen table with my husband and a rotisserie chicken sandwich,  I shared my latest attempt at poetry. Not bad, he said. Over-the-moon I didn’t expect by any means – poetry is another language, after all… But then he surprised me by adding some sage comments. If I could just record this… But wanting to quote him is nothing new – he’s insightful, verbal, and wise. Dozens of conversations with him roll around in my head, and many surround this topic of aging. I really should start to record.

So, here’s the jist of what he said today.

We “over-55ers,” at some point go into a transition. The sex drive which used to draw us together was a natural thing. (“Doin’ a What Comes Naturally…” popped into my head… I squelched the urge to burst into song.)

But the natural fades. And if we decide to wait for the old drive to come back, thinking this must be a quirky stage we’re going through, we will likely be waiting a long time. Disappointed.

So the natural must become purposeful.

Then he mentioned those expensive little pills men use. Couples who say they don’t work have to remember: They supply blood where needed only upon arousal. So a man’s brain, having been jump-started on purpose, makes the pills work.

All this goes to show that “natural” is gone. Forever. But only in the area of sex! It seems that what comes naturally now is a myriad of routines. Hubby observed that our ruts grow deeper with age. So once out of the habit of making love more or less regularly, getting back into it must be purposeful – even disciplined.

Does this mean if we don’t quit making love, the desire won’t quit either? The answer would seem to be yes. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Love requires bending from routines or making different ones. It means getting out and having fun. (We just put four, yes, 4 days of all-day free fun on our calendar!) Yet bending is the very thing age, time, and difficulties attempt to take away. Emotionally, spiritually, relationally, and physically!

We have to resist the temptation to relax into autumn marriage like a pair of old, comfortable boots. We have to get out there and dance in them, risking uncomfortable blisters!

Or find a country lane to bike or stroll.

Do something purposeful.

Isn’t this the challenge of love in autumn?

Okay, I did add that last part about the boots. But the rest he did say. Yet if it weren’t for the twinkle in his eye, I might have thought he just liked the chicken sandwich.

Here’s the poem. It can be from you to him or him to you. Let me know in the comments what you think.

If You Love Me, Make Love to Me

 

Committed and faithful, that’s us, Babe.

You love me, I clearly see.

Yet something has faded between us.

If you love me, make love to me.

 

The passion we shared all those years ago…

Is it lost in mundane daily debris?

Why on opposite sides of the bed now?

If you love me, make love to me.

 

Distance no longer means safety.

Lovers hurt and disagree.

Do you still choose to choose US?

If you love me, make love to me.

 

What? Embrace the work of staying connected?

Of talking and talking ‘til almost three?

But look at the compensation, Babe!

If you love me, make love to me.

 

Would you meet me in the middle?

You know, we’re worth it, you and me.

Your warm touch is my treasure, Babe.

If you love me, make love to me.

by Joan Reid

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