ElderChicks

This is how my new husband describes our courtship: a progressive realization that it was a good idea to grow old with someone you love. I prepared the path to that realization with good food, much laughter, visits to galleries, and a month in San Miquel, Mexico where he welded and I sculpted at the Institudo D’Allende.

We were not strangers having met over the years on occasions that brought us together with our respective spouses through a mutual friend. He was a retired professor of organic chemistry looking forward to a future of exploring interesting possibilities such as art, and sharing them with his wife of many years. He was widowed suddenly, months after I was. I waited a respectable time to connect. I called with a conversation that began “I hear you’re doing art” and “I’d like to see your work.” He said he wasn’t sure how that could happen and obviously missed the point. He was on his way to months of sputtering (the opposite of progressing). I waited for him to catch up. He was worth it.The San Miquel experience made it clear that we would enjoy living together. We did just that and events progressed at a normal pace. Normal in that we were too old for a long engagement and already understood how to negotiate the unchartered waters of marriage.

I wanted a simple wedding, low-key, not sure how our grown children would react. He wanted to make a statement that our decision was well thought out and far from impulsive. He wanted a wedding. We interviewed a woman cantor that understood the delicate nuances of a second marriage. I suggested that we avoid traditional newlyweds’ vows and read simultaneously or sing the words of  “Forever Young” a favorite of ours by Bob Dylan. She replied that she could do this and, by the way, “her grandmother and Bob Dylan’s grandmother were sisters”. We knew we had found the right person to officiate at our wedding.

We married in the party room of our apartment building under a chuppah, Jewish symbol for home, made by both of us: mirrors glued on to the four posts; wooden cutouts of airplanes; Jewish stars and the ancient symbols of the sun and moon. The roof represented by the Star of David woven from brightly colored Indian saris. Eighty five guests, the number set by us, shared our wedding weekend. My son and his family arrived from Kenya the children barely catching up with the 8 hour time difference. We created a theme, what’s a wedding without one – Mexico, a homage to our successful month long vacation trip. Our wedding invitation a colorful mono-print I designed and reproduced bore the image of Brancusi and Frida Kahlo, avatars for us as bride and groom, resembling our younger selves.

Our favorite local restaurant was available for the wedding party. Illuminated sun and moon lanterns dangled from the ceiling; serapes and sombreros were stretched across the vaulted arches; a two-man band with synthesizer played “under the boardwalk” in spanish; the kitchen created Mexican dishes with a nouvelle touch. It was a great party and we were surrounded by our closest friends and family in the same place, at the same time, on the same continent, rejoicing in our union.

Six years have passed and our marriage has progressed rather than sputtered. Our blended family: his son, daughter and four granddaughters; my two boys and two grandsons, are happy for us. And, I think grateful that it doesn’t look as if we’ll have to move in with them if we manage to stay forever young.

“May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young….”