Saint Ivana

I had a boyfriend 14 years my senior.  He died at 67, ten days after a stroke. I was 53.  Before the attack, he was slowing down—but I was gearing up.  He wanted to simplify his life, while mine was becoming more complicated every day. He was retired and I had just started my own business.  He preferred to be in Florida full time and I didn’t intend to leave New York or my kids.

When he took sick, I would have dropped everything to help take care of him had he survived the stroke. I loved him.  Sure, it wouldn’t have been my first choice to put everything on hold, but hey, that’s life.

A man I know in his sixties told me he was glad his wife was the same age because she could relate to him when he woke up with an ache here, a pain there.  Great point, I thought.  Big age gaps generally make less of a difference when both partners are younger, say 28 and 43, but they can become more troublesome at a certain stage.

Troublesome or not, loving each other is the most important issue. I have incredible admiration for one Fab Over Fifty woman who is helping to care for her older husband with a reservoir of grace, class, and good humor. She is grateful he is in her life, ill or not.

Ivana Trump is another story.  When I saw her recently on The View, I almost felt sorry for her loveless life. Barbara Walters asked Ivana, “You like them younger, right?”  And Ivana’s answer: “Yes, I like them younger. I have so much energy, they usually die within a month.  So I’d much rather be a babysitter than a nursemaid.”

Funny how Ivana thinks only older men get sick.  Even energetic 60-year-old women can get sick too. I wonder which of her young men would come running to her side.