Is There Sex After 60? (Navigating Single Life After 60)

Why in the world would I have a huge KING SIZE BED?  Have I invited a group of people to sleep with me you may ask?  (No, not lately.)  To be honest I used to sleep with more than one person at a time.  (I THOUGHT THAT MIGHT CAPTURE YOUR INTEREST)   When did I sleep with more than one person?   Well, years ago my “was-band” and I used to sleep together and then my first-born son would climb into bed with us and a few years later my youngest son would climb in-between us as well.  Then we rescued two cats.  Both cats would sleep on my feet.   I had a very difficult time sleeping anyway without fighting off the wild herds of arms and legs and cat fur.  Oh I forgot, also snoring and night terrors and cats meowing in my ear also added to the sleep issue.  Did I mention our first Basset Hound always had to go out in the middle of the night?  So she would jump up on my side of the bed to get my attention.  She knew that the male group on the other side would ignore her or pretend to be asleep, so therefore she would jump up and her paws would reach my face and she would whimper until I would get up and take her out.  All of this happened in what used to be a Queen Size Bed.

Several years ago I bought a darling home in Tucson, Arizona and I decided to decorate it by myself in my own style.  The first thing I bought was the biggest King Size Bed that I could find. Maybe just maybe I would be able to sleep through the night.  I went with my oldest son to check out mattresses.  My oldest son chose a full mattress for his room and we chose a twin for my youngest son’s room.  I tried every mattress in the store to make sure my mattress was the mattress of my dreams.  I spotted one King Size mattress at the far end of the second row that seemed to be calling out to me, “Try me! Try me!”  I sat on the left side of the bed, took off my shoes and spread out, with my arms and legs flinging out in every direction.  It was heaven, not too hard, not too soft, just right.  When I turned my head to the left.  I could see miles of mattress that seemed to go on forever. This was the perfect fit.  My mattress made for me!  I finally would have my own space to fling my arms about while kicking my legs out and about like everyone else in my family.  I bought a beautiful mattress cover with quilting.  The salesman said it was the top of the line.   I invested in two king-size feather pillows.  I bought 300 thread count cotton sheets and a beautiful comforter and a Sunflower Duvet.  I bought four silk throw pillows and a matching dust ruffle.  It was perfection.  At last I will have room to sleep the sleep, of an angel sleeping on a cloud.   Or so I thought…

The first night in my new bed I was sleeping alone.  The cats had decided to sleep in my youngest son’s bedroom.  My husband (who still was my husband at this point, right before becoming my “was-band”) was out of town.  The dog was fast asleep and I was alone in a King Size Bed that was at least a mile wide.  The mattress felt great, the sheets were soft and silky, the comforter was comforting, the pillows were perfection and yet I couldn’t sleep.  I stared at the ceiling for hours.  Finally, at 3 AM I couldn’t try anymore and I marched into the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of my LAST RESORT, Nyquil. 

Here is the unfortunate fact that I learned when I awoke with the sun shining in my eyes in the morning, in my new home, in my new KING SIZE BED.  I was in the very same position that I was in, when I finally fell asleep.  In other words, I had trained my body to sleep on the far right-hand side of the bed.  I sleep two inches from the edge of the bed on my right side with my knees slightly bent.  Occasionally, I will wake up and turn over to my left side in the same position.  I do not move an inch.  Therefore, I use about 1 ½ ft. of my king size bed that literally goes on for miles.   I do not move.  For years I had to sleep one or two inches from the edge of my bed and I couldn’t move without hitting someone in the head or stomach or something worse. (You know what I mean, I had a husband and two boys so one has to be careful of where one might fling an arm or a leg.)

So what is the moral to this particular story?  There is no moral.  I sleep alone (now in an apartment in another city) in my giant king size bed with new sheets, a new comforter, a new duvet, and a new dust ruffle.  About a week ago I asked my two boys to turn my mattress around since I still sleep one inch from the right-hand side of the bed and I don’t move.  I am trying to keep the bed even.  I still have trouble sleeping for a variety of reasons.  Why do I keep this giant king-size bed?  Well, I think that it means that even though I don’t take up much space in my bed I have hope that someday I might decide to be reckless and fling my arms and legs about in carefree abandon. I just might ask someone to join me, who knows, and then we will be able to know if there really IS SUCH A THING AS, SEX AFTER 60?  I’ll keep you informed.

UNTIL NEXT TIME…