At 69, I went on vacation alone and fell in love with a 72-year-old man. For seven days I felt like the happiest woman in the world. But our last night I heard a woman say, “You can’t fool her anymore. He's coming home tomorrow and you still don't know how you're going to get rid of her."

After we returned to the United States, one day Sarah, David's daughter, called me.

His voice was shaking.

Mary, there's something I want to tell you. For three years, every time I walked into my father’s house, I was afraid of the conditions I could find him in.

He paused.

“But yesterday, when I went to visit him, Dad was singing in the kitchen while I was preparing breakfast. I hadn't seen him like that since Mom died.

I broke down to cry.

Sarah added gently:

Thank you for giving you the opportunity to love again.

I replied:

No, Sarah. We simply remind each other that we are still alive.

I'm seventy years old today.

David has seventy-three.

We're still together.

Sometimes we argue. Sometimes we are afraid of the future. But every morning we appreciate being able to enjoy one more day next to each other.

I've learned that at 69 you're not too old to fall in love. The only time it really is too late is when you decide there is no room for happiness left in your life. ❤️