When Do People Stop Having Sex?

Thought for the Fortnight

From time to time, I like to write a post in some way concerning sex. This is not because I am sex-obsessed (at least, I don’t think I am) but because I think it is a very important aspect of our lives. Even for us older people. I wrote one post about research into the female orgasm very early on and another a year ago about some sexy music, called Raunch. Indeed, I did an interview with another writer, in which my attitude toward sex was unexpectedly highlighted in the title.

So here I am again.

When I first started my Substack, I promised the 25 or so friends and family who kindly signed up initially that I would offer only new material. In particular, I would not re-publish any writing from my recent book reflecting on being an older woman (with the same title as my Substack). I have not done so until now.

But I am hereby breaking that promise, as I just feel like sharing this story with the many subscribers who have never read my book (details below). It is such a lovely story. I can’t promise not to do so again, but will try to do so infrequently. You all deserve new writing.

Oddly, it is the second time I have written about my father’s sex life; the other was when I learned that he had had a two-year affair back in the 1950s with an Australian woman who I knew well and who later became a famous writer (see https://arichardson.substack.com/p/our-many-layered-selves).

Fascination with sex

People everywhere are fascinated by sex. I am not the first to say so. We wonder what other people do and when and what it means to them. And some wonder how long it continues.

When I was in my twenties, I naively thought that sex was only for the young. It simply did not occur to me that people over forty or so continued with such activities. This was nothing to do with any connection to childbearing, but simply to the assumption that only the young had an appetite for – or interest in – sexual relationships.

As we age, we learn more – about this as well as everything else. There is, of course, much more research now. Surveys will tell you about the extent of sexual activity at different ages. But few of these involve people over 70. And we are often reluctant to raise the issue with people we know.

Of all the stories I tell about my family, the one which always gains immediate attention, is this one about my father.

My father

From the age of 80 or so, my parents lived in an independent apartment in a retirement community in central Pennsylvania. They died ten years later, within three months of each other, roughly twenty-five years ago. After about five years living there, my mother developed vascular dementia. This is, of course, every married person’s worst fear. The husband or wife is no longer what they once were, but you are still married. And it is harder and harder to cope with the sheer physical demands.

My mother remained in the family apartment for well over a year, with a carer (caretaker) having been hired to help with her daily needs. But eventually, it was too much for my father to manage and it was agreed that she would move to the Assisted Living section of the community. She was well looked after and he could pop in several times a day to see her. He rarely complained about the situation, at least to me. It was just something that had happened.

In the meantime, his eyesight had become much worse and he was losing one of his great pleasures – reading. He listened to a lot of audiobooks (and complained that there was no easy way to find the place where you fell asleep). He had a friend, a somewhat younger woman, who came in to read to him. He was terribly pleased about this and talked about it – and her – quite frequently in our regular long-distance phone calls. (For those who don’t know me, I live in London, England.)

I should have seen it coming. When a man starts mentioning a woman (or vice versa) quite often, it tends to mean that something more than friendship is involved. But it just didn’t occur to me. My very perceptive daughter suggested that it was a possibility and I thought, no, that is unlikely. Not because the thought upset me, but they just seemed too old. How little I knew.

Learning the news

I went to visit around the time of his 90^th birthday, when we were holding a party for him. Soon after I arrived, he sat me down and clearly wanted to communicate something to me. He had never sought very intimate discussions, but this time was different. He mentioned the name of the woman, who I had not yet met, and said he wanted me to know that they had become ‘an item’. I remember thinking the word was odd.

He was very clear. He wanted me to know that this was not ‘simply kissing and cuddling’, it was the ‘real’ thing. Indeed, he said his doctor thought it was terrific for his health. There was no mention of love, but that did not seem important. The key message was that he was happy. And he was. He was then 90 and she was 83.

I was surprised but delighted. Whatever my views about fidelity in marriage, they do not extend to the time when one partner is effectively no longer there. I made this very clear and could see him visibly relax. He had wanted me to know but had been frightened of my reaction.

He said his worst fear was that some other resident would tell my mother, but it didn’t look like that had happened. He still continued to visit her regularly as before.

They never moved in together, although perhaps they stayed in each other’s apartments when I wasn’t there. I did not press for such details. The woman continued to be a regular presence in his life until he died. Indeed, the night he died, she went to the hospital and sat with his body for a very long time.

When do people stop having sex?

So, when do people stop having sex?  I really don’t know. I suspect there is a lot of it about. Certainly, in the retirement community, it was common for couples to spring up quite quickly after the death of a partner.

But I do know about my father. And when I tell this story, I have never heard a reaction other than “What a wonderful story” or “So, there’s hope then.”

And I’m sure he would be delighted for the world to know.

This story was first published by Sixtyandme.com and is in my book, The Granny Who Stands on her Head: Reflections on growing older, Glenmore Press, 2021.