For one dance, they asked all the married couples to get on the dance floor. That was unusual and we were both intrigued by what they were going to do. They played a lovely, slow song and we started dancing. The MC asked for all the couples married less than 5 years to leave the dance floor. Then 10. 20. 25. 30. 40. 50. There was just one couple left after 50. They were both white-haired but seemed quite spry. They've been together 61 years. The MC asked them to provide advice to the newlyweds, to tell them one thing that would help them get to 61 years. The MC asked the wife first and she said, "Respect and love." He asked the husband: "Don't argue." The laughter was a joyous roar!
We made our way back to our seats.
"Sixty-one years," my lover said. "I hope we make it that long." He looked at me with a only-slightly joking face. "I hope you make it that long."
I smiled at him. He knows that, given the nature of my body, the likelihood that I make it to a ripe old age doesn't look too good. His genes, however... they could live to be a hundred. His stock is so much sturdier than mine.
He said, "Eighty? Heck, I'll still be kicking at eighty, no problem! That's only fourty years from now. Fourty years, no problem. Probably, fifty years, no problem."
I said, "Well, I've made it this far, so far, yeah? I'll try to stick around as long as I can."
He looked at me. His eyes were intense, slightly sad but with hope. "Stay."
I touched his hand. "I'll try."