This story is by Donna VanSant and was part of our 2024 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
Silver Splitters. That is what we are called these days. Silver-haired singles searching for love. Starting afresh when your life’s odometer shows 70 requires a belief that there is still excitement ahead, that there is love in life’s 9th inning! It is definitely the same life but with a new line up and a different ball park. The intention: not to delay joy.
For this “late life love home run” I require attributes which when grouped, are named readiness, or to put it another way, essentials needed to step up to bat. These batting essentials include a good measure of vitality, a great deal of poise, motivation, and heaps of resilience.
I adopt vitality as my theme for my 70’s. Substantial amounts of this element supply me with the energy and encouragement to soldier on. Vitality is what it takes to get a base hit.
After years out of the dating game I need to practice being bold and self-assured. With poise I am confident I’ll get a hit. There is no room for self-doubt as I step up to the plate. Motivation spurs action. It gives me the impetus to keep at it, and later, to sustain my search for a new partner. Rejection is tough and the ability to recover quickly and move forward is key. Resilience helps me carry on, and bounce back after I strike out.
So where do I begin to meet players and, in my case, eligible men? And where is this different playing field which will welcome and understand all the short-comings of the silver single? There are always social clubs, walking groups, adult courses, personal ads, match makers, fee-for-service websites, and so on.
My friend let me know there is a great new playing field. She has helped a mutual friend write her profile for a dating site for elders. She told me that there are a lot of attractive men on this site—and that maybe I should think about playing on that field. She even selects my profile picture.
That very evening, I embrace age-appropriate online dating. I decide rather than staying single I am going to join this pennant chase. It took me hours to write my profile and even longer to select desirable photos illustrating all things about me. The posted photos tell my story, and more than any other measure, triggered vulnerability. Looks do matter. Up to bat I went—it was out and out exposure. With much trepidation I adjusted my grip.
The site encourages the contenders to write about what they like and don’t like, what things they would not want to be without and what makes them laugh. It seems that my potential matches had scrambled to computers with outdated skills. They posted photos sideways or upside down and struggled with fully responding to key questions. Despite their sweet blunders there is a universal desire to try-out again and recapture that “sliding into love feeling”. This sport of second chance, especially romance, is ripe for poking fun—a good ole tease. In reality, my searches become evening entertainment somewhat like finding a binge- worthy series on a streaming service.
Immediately I receive responses and I start to sift through the line-up of photos and profiles of possible matches. I am attracted to the profiles of men who were clever with words and whose comments made me smile or laugh out loud. For example, “pictures of my legs forthcoming, I don’t snore.”, “6 feet, firm 200 pounds, humorous, handsome, handy and have hair on my head.” We silver-hairs have to laugh at ourselves!
My favourite recruiting question was “ Things that I would never part with”. One match wrote about having one more piece of his Mom’s homemade fudge. He lived across the country and I love fudge. I wrote, with his wise input, a series of “think pieces” about online dating calling it Good Fudge; Good Love. These were serious bits of advice about being brave and handling rejection and about attraction, chemistry, and love. In reality, I was conflicted most of the time and often left meet-ups feeling I was being walked to first base. Girlfriends, my umpires, continued making comments saying “I could never do what you are doing.”
Readiness is a definite advantage. I went up to bat often and had a full, fun social life, and I did learn a lot about what I liked. I discovered I wanted the whole package—not just companionship, bike rides, but lots of attention and affection as well. To my core I am a romantic. And I truly wanted to find another chance at love even though I realize it is late in my last inning.
After almost 2 years I decide to take a break from the online dating scene and search for some other way. I was just about to hit the cancel button when up popped a new profile.
As I read his entry I had to pause and look up the meaning of some of the words he used, and I was also struck by his comment about deep friendships. This man was a talented writer. I was intrigued by his answer to the question: “ Things that I would never part with”. In his case he listed, among other things, his mother’s dining room table. I was curious as I too had a dining room table that my mother and I had restored 50 years ago and which holds a prominent place in my kitchen. Even though he lived a distance by car from me, I sent him a message to set up a video chat.
In our first chat he assured me that the distance was not a big barrier and we began an ongoing nine-month remote connection. We are both serial Silver Splitters. Our combined batting average is 0 for 6. With every chat there is laughter and inspiration along with a glass of wine. And he has a sexy French accent.
Right off the bat there is action. His first generous move is to order me a case of wine for my birthday. This got my attention. For me, love is about action.
Then we agreed to read chapters of the same book Wanting: The Power of Mimetic Desire in Everyday Life and discuss it in subsequent phone calls. I learned, that by nature, he is a literary critic. We wrote from selected quotes and used music as impetus for our next tasks. He wakes with the birds and often sends me a tune to listen to along with my morning latte. In our profiles we both shared the romantic trait.
That year, at the end of the World Series, we finally meet face to face. I drive a couple of hours from my lake house to his little yellow house in wine country. That day, he shows me his impressive wine collection, and invites his youngest daughter and her fiancé to break bread. Early in his career he had been a French chef at fine restaurants on the west coast. Needless to say, I was well fed, and immediately felt he was sharing precious parts of his life with me.
We then began our trips back and forth and continued our long-distance connection. I had booked a month in France and asked if he was interested in travelling? In his driveway I recall he said “ Are you asking me to go to France with you?” I said “Of course”.
Five weeks travelling together in France made me desire more; more of his great meals; more of his irreverent humour; more affection and attention. Just more.
By this write we have played a full season: The World Series is finished for another year. We have started to write a book which we call The Last Romantic Comedy: The 70’s Tryst. Our prologue is named Foreplay and our first chapter follows a silver-haired couple shopping surreptitiously for lubricant. So far, we think this is hilarious. There is nothing like a lived experience.
For most of the summer we reside in his little yellow house, biking among the vineyards, swimming and walking in lake country, having morning coffee chats, and an aperitif as the sun sets during this season of hot days. We listen to Arguably by Christopher Hitchens as we travel from lake to lake, to the family farm and Crescent Beach. I am hungry—he feeds me.
Harvesting this season’s bounty in his garden is serious business for a chef. We transform the bumper crop into mustard, ketchup, and relishes, all the fixings for homemade hot dogs—a baseball tradition. Intimacy builds as we chase toward home base, wherever that may be, and for the moment we have found another chance at love. We hold up the pennant proudly committing to gourmet hots dogs for Christmas!
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