Never Too Late

When It Comes To Love, Age Is Just A Number...

Lucy Bryant

Walking along the corridor, I noticed some noise coming from an apartment further down from me.

It was last July – and for two years, I’d been living in Millcroft Senior Living, a retirement complex in Delaware, USA.

I’d moved there after my husband Mike passed away on June 2016.

I was truly heartbroken and felt so alone.

But living in a community with friendly folk the same age gave me a new lease of life.

Investigating the noise, I realized there was a new face moving in.

Suddenly, a man stepped out into the hallway.

I was keen to make him as welcome as others had made me.

‘Hello! My name’s Nancy,’ I smiled, reaching out my hand.

‘I’m Jim,’ he replied with a grin. At 92, four years older than me,

Jim had a friendly face and kind, gentle eyes.

And I couldn’t help but notice that he was a bit of a silver fox.

‘There’s lots to do here,’ I said, chatting easily.

‘I’m a member of the bridge club. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like,’ I added.

‘That sounds great, I’m sure I’ll see you around!’ Jim replied.

Back at my flat around the corner, I felt an unfamiliar feeling my stomach.

Butterflies. It’d been a while since I felt this way about someone.

But there was something about Jim that made me smile.

And, over the next few weeks, he joined us regularly at bridge and bingo games.

We got to know each other fast. Then Jim invited me to lunch with him one day.

‘I’d love to!’ I beamed.