Older Woman Younger Man
By Kay Kopit
My husband and I have been happily married for 17 years. What
makes our relationship unique is that Bryan was born in 1960 the
year after I graduated high school. He is 19 years my junior; I
am older than his mother. The secret of our success is a deeply
committed love for one another. Ours is a passionate romance.
Each of us is whole, happy and healthy. Bryan and I have a love
that keeps my spirit young. I am sharing our story to give older
women hope that they too can find peace and love with a younger
man.
We met in 1985 during a rainy winter in San Francisco. We were
neighbors on a tiny street near the historic Mission Dolores.
The worst storm of the season was on its way and my roof was
leaking profusely. I was in dire straits financially, having
been newly divorced. I was preparing to fix it myself.
Unfortunately my ladder wasn’t tall enough. I needed help. None
of the folks I knew were home that Saturday morning but I
noticed an open door directly across from my house. I hurried
upstairs to the second story flat in the azure painted duplex
and walked down the long corridor to the living room. There on
the sofa was a guy watching the football game on T.V. I
introduced myself and then proceeded to ask for his assistance.
He looked at me like I was crazy. The silence was deafening. How
often does a stranger enter your apartment with a request for
help with a major repair? I was flushed with embarrassment but
was in too deep to recover. Fortunately he agreed to help me.
This uncommon beginning signaled the magic that lay before us.
The sparks flew. We went on our first date within days of this
meeting. Bryan’s car was broken so we took the bus across the
city to an authentic Moroccan restaurant where we sat on paisley
cushions and ate with our fingers. I remember clearly how
primitive this felt and how natural it was to be with him. He
didn’t seem the least bit concerned about my age. I, on the
other hand, was more sensitive. I was healing from a codependent
relationship of 12 years and had never experienced true
intimacy. I wasn’t sure it was the proper thing to do but I
couldn’t help myself; I was falling in love. I was scared
because these feelings were coming so quickly.
Bryan moved in with me within weeks of our first meeting. I
remember thinking if it didn’t work out it would be easy to ask
him to leave because all he owned was a T.V. For Valentine’s Day
he created a hanging wire mobile in the shape of intertwined
hearts and presented it to me with flowers and chocolate.
(2)
This type of thoughtful gesture is typical of Bryan. He has
never missed a special occasion and has often surprised me with
jewelry when he returns from a business trip. One evening in the
spring we were waiting to board a dinner train in Mendocino. A
drunken man approached us and said, “How come you two are
dressed up? Are you getting married?” Bryan looked at me and
said, “Yes, we are aren’t we?” That was his proposal. It was
decided we would plan a wedding for later that year. But, first
I needed to meet Bryan’s mother.
Just the thought of it terrified me! Bryan and his mother,
Sharon, have a truly special bond. He insisted he would not tell
anyone about our engagement until she and I met. We drove to
southern California where Sharon was visiting her sister,
Bryan’s aunt. I felt sick the entire trip. I knew in advance he
was going to take his mother shopping the next morning alone to
break the news to her. I couldn’t sleep at all that night. What
felt so “right” to Bryan and me was unusual, especially in the
eyes of a parent. When they returned from their excursion Sharon
looked like she had just come from a funeral. Fortunately, for
me, Aunt Toby accepted the situation and eased the tension by
giving me a white angel ornament. His mother is a wonderful
woman. In spite of her disappointment, she welcomed me into
their family. Over the years our relationship has evolved into a
unique friendship, a cross between a peer and a sister.
December 7, 1986, dressed in an ivory colored Victorian gown, I
was driven to our wedding in a horse drawn carriage. I remember
the sensation well. As I heard the clip-pity clop of the hoofs
hitting the pavement I felt it was the happiest day of my life.
The ride was several miles long and I enjoyed cars honking
loudly at every turn. When we arrived at the elegant Alamo
Square Inn Bryan was waiting to escort me inside to the
nuptials. It was a good thing he took my hand, for as I exited
the carriage, my knees collapsed from shaking so hard. The day
was spectacular marking a lifetime of love.
Both Bryan and I had always wanted kids. By the time we met my
biological clock had run out. He told me he would rather marry a
woman he loved deeply than to wait for someone to bear his
children. For several years we were content to be a unit of two.
After my dear Aunt Letha died in 1992 I longed for a child. I
knew we would be good parents. Bryan agreed to adoption. It was
an arduous experience requiring patience and resilience. We had
several birthmothers who changed their minds for different
reasons. This process took three years and a great deal of
money. Ultimately we were blessed with a baby girl we named
Mariah. Our daughter is now 8 years old and the light of our
life.
(3)
Bryan continues to be my rock, strength and loving support.
During our years together I have had many tragedies including:
my brother John’s suicide in 1988, my ex- husband Joey’s death
from alcoholism in 1989, and my girlfriend Debra’s suicide in
2002. I was hospitalized with a potentially life threatening
blood clot in my lungs in 1998. Bryan stood by me through all of
these. I married a great guy! I am a fortunate woman to have
found true love in the heart of a younger man.
Age is but a notch on the tree of life. Does it really matter
that I have more than he. We are all on a spiritual path. We
choose lovers, friends and family to mirror our soul’s
development. Partners of different ages can accelerate this
growth. These diverse emotional experiences are opportunities of
a lifetime. Let’s enjoy them.
For more information on Kay Kopit visit
www.isurviveddocumentary.com