Love is not an Age

Most of Herb's adult life he had been a baker. He got up at 3 am every weekday morning and drove to Beechwood Bakery and made bread, rolls, and cookies. Now that he had retired, the habit of getting up early never left him. He plunged his hands into bread dough each morning and felt worthwhile. Lil, his wife would wake to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, baking bread and cookies. Later, they would distribute goodies they didn't eat to lucky friends and relatives.

They sat at their small kitchen table by the window in their mobile home and said
"I love you," in different ways.

Herb would open the morning newspaper and began his daily rant.

"Bet this new fellow they put in raises the taxes again."

"You're probably right," Lil would say, even though she couldn't care less.

"Did ya' take your blood pressure medicine, Lilly?"

"What would I do without you?" Lil said, shaking out two pills in her palm.

Herb and Lil were not used to being separated. They'd been married for sixty years and had been apart for only a handful of nights. When Lil fell down and broke her shoulder, her doctor insisted that she move to Holly Haven, an Assisted Living Facility.

Since the couple had no children, it fell to friends and neighbors to drive Herb across town to see Lil and since people get busy, his visits were infrequent.

One morning, he called me. "Can you take you take me over to see Lil today?" He sounded very agitated.

"Yes, I can take you this afternoon. Is anything wrong?"

"I'll say there's something wrong. Some young guy is tryin' to make time with Lil. Everytime I call its Bill this and Bill that."

I wanted to laugh, but I could tell he was dead serious. "I'll be there at one o'clock then,"

When I arrived, Herb was drssed in his Sunday suit and sported a rakish multicolored tie. His silver hair was neatly brushed and his shoes gleamed with polish.

"Let's go," he said, "I got to set this fellow straight."

"When we reached Lil's room, she looked up from her comfortable chair and saw Herb in his splendor.

Lil pushed herself up slowly. "Oh, oh," she cried, extending her good arm. She was trembling with anticipation.

I'd never seen an eighty-four year old man run before. He stopped short in front of her and tenderly took her in his arms so he wouldn't hurt her.

"You look beautiful," he said, when he stepped back.

"Well, you're not so bad yourself, all gussied up," she said smiling.

Lil patted her bed. "Sit down and tell me enverything, what horrible news stories have I missed? The coffee here is just awful and the cookies are out of a package."

They sat down and then Herb remembered I was there.

"Oh, Lil, Pam brought me, wasn't that nice?"

"Thank you, Dear," she said to me. "What lovely neighbors we have."

"I'll walk around a bit while you visit," I said. "Take your time."

I went to the nurses station and asked for the number of Bill's room. I peeked in. He didn't look much like the"whippersnapper" Herb had complained about. Bill, who looked to be about seventy, was sitting in a wheelchair watching a baseball game. I went back to the lobby and picked up a magazine. I thought maybe Herb had forgotten about his vendetta since Lil had greeted him so enthusiastically, but I was wrong. Some time passed and I turned to see Herb trottong purposefully down the hall toward Bill's room. I got up and stood outside the door shamelessly eavesdroppping.

"You Bill Lesley?"

"Yes, how nice to have some company. Come and sit. I'm watching the Dodgers. You like baseball? Where are my manners? What's your name?"

"I'm Herb Siefield." He sounded stiff and unyielding.

"Oh," Bill said, enthusiastically. "Lil's husband, I'm so glad to meet you. Sorry I can't get up to shake your hand, but my legs gave ut on me and my kids hauled me off to this place. Lil talks about you all the time."

"She does?"

"Oh, yes, she brags on how you bake, how you fixed up your place and made that fish pond for her. I'm afraid I wasn't much of a handyman. Mechanics was my profession. Had a small shop over on Park Street. Well, this guy's no pitcher. Remember Sandy Colfax?"

Yeah, I watched him pitch a no-hitter back in...can't remember the year, my memory's gettin' really bad.

"You too? Its a wonder I can keep my kid's names straight."

On the way home Herb said, "I guess Bill is just lonely for some company and you know how friendly Lil is."

Herb had a stroke that spring and moved into Lil's room at Holly Haven. When I went to visit, Herb, Lil and Bill sat around a table playing cards, talking and laughing. I noticied however that Herb kept one arm draped over the back of Lil's chair claiming her as his own.

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