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Illustration by Drew Shannon
When I was 10, I learned about sex. I did not believe my parents could have done anything so disgusting; in my teen years, when I was introduced to the adult world, I still didn’t perceive my parents as sexual beings; they were 52, old and sexless.
I’m here to say I’m not sexless; sex hasn’t stopped in my senior years. It only morphs into something else and slows down. The bits and bobs are still there but no longer in the same place. Gravity has played a cruel trick on me. I don’t have to explain that the bigger the breast, the greater the fall. Now, in my seventh decade, I have found my breasts only look spectacular if I hold my arms above my head, giving them an instant lift to their original position from age 70 to 30. Try as I may, I haven’t been able to incorporate this pose into the sex act without looking like a nincompoop, so they remain pointing south.
Men are not immune to the effects of gravity, either. I’ve seen more than one older man suck in their guts as they stripped naked.
It’s also challenging to have sex when I don’t want to expose my upper arms because they have developed a life of their own and wobble back and forth with minimal activity. I do not want anyone to see me naked from behind, either. My derriere has disappeared and is now too flat to grab. Where did all the fat go? Is it down at my ankles? I must say they do look bigger than they used to.
As I entered my later years, I thought seniors were lucky because they are able to have sex any time they like, plenty of free time, no children banging on the bedroom door and no gruelling work schedules to kill the mood.
Well, think again. There are other limitations these days. Spoiler alert: spontaneity is dead. The ideal time for me to have sex is between 1 and 3 p.m., after lunch is digested and before I take my nap. There’s no late-night sex either, as there’s no gas in the tank at that hour. According to my calculations, Wednesday is the optimum day to “get down” since I’ve recovered from the weekend activities after a few days’ rest. Wednesday is called “Hump Day” for good reason. Please do not ring my doorbell during this time under any circumstances!
Since I have arthritis, I prefer clothes with zippers. Buttons and clasps are off-limits because my arthritic hands fumble. It now takes five minutes to get naked. Sometimes, my initial lust has dwindled by then because my memory is shot. And often can’t remember what I’m doing halfway through an activity. Or my libido wanes at times – especially after a night of unrelenting insomnia.
Seniors can do anything a younger couple can, we just have less stamina. (Perhaps I should maximize my energy levels by drinking a power drink a few hours before I let loose?) These days, I need to be sated before my knees give out and my back begins to spasm. No more swinging from chandeliers for me; their only function now is for romantic lighting in good restaurants.
I must admit I’m somewhat jaded after five decades of various lovers. And the excitement has worn off, having seen the same meat and potatoes many times before. Let’s face it: the body isn’t what it once was. I’ve known older men who found sex difficult because of nagging hernias and testosterone that goes AWOL in the morning.
I might be part of the problem because sex with compression socks is de rigueur these days. I keep them on because they’re impossibly tight and difficult to get off. They prevent thrombosis but, unfortunately, come in a putrid skin colour.
But none of this means I’m giving up.
I try to keep my sexual relationship vigorous by adding a touch of mystique, refreshing my appearance as I would for a first date. I look up from the newspaper and reply to my partner without grunting when asked a question. And I reignite the awe I felt for my lover when we first met.
Is romance dead at 70? Absolutely not! Despite all the pitfalls of my twilight years, I still dance in the kitchen with my partner, grope him in the dark like a teenager and leap into bed at my own risk. It can still be magical.
Louise Dwerryhouse lives in Vancouver.