Love was all we knew once. Hello there, we were lively young chicks, dating our handsome future husbands. We used to drive off in their colourful cars, to the drive-in or somewhere secluded. Love was free, and all we knew. Many offspring of the baby boomers were conceived in the back seat of a car. Making love was so much fun. We were planning to get married, so we did.
Love was all we knew, it was fun. So we bought a nuptial bed, for making love for fun. Modern appliances arrived later. We finally overcame the yoke of oppression of our parents, much like the generations before and after us had. Despite futile opposition, we were young and in love. We wanted to get married in a church, so we did. I know of some couples who have now been married for 50 years. Time has flown for us all.
These days, it’s not necessary to be married. Anything goes, with any lifestyle choice, whatever gender choices people are making. It’s all part of our acceptance of diversity today, somewhere down under.
When we were first married, we didn’t have a credit card or online shopping. We didn’t have the internet or social media for entertainment. Instead, as young couples, to purchase things we wanted, we worked and saved hard. At that stage, making love was an approved activity, so much fun and free, so long as we used adequate contraception. That was not rocket science. Whatever became of us all over the years, making love was all we knew and loads of fun. We practised keeping our husbands busily engaged in pursuing our goals.
Eventually, we sorted ourselves into the great Australian dream. We upgraded our cars, and had families, some didn’t. People, especially women, had choices provided to us by some sort of liberation. Couples could decide there were enough children in the world and follow their own dreams
Many of us did divorce along the way, down history’s page. Most of the divorces, even then, were instigated by women, such as myself, or chicks I knew. Love sort of flew away, but some nostalgia occasionally remains. Our early days of being in love were fun, and dreadfully energetic. It is an enigma, this thing we call love.
At this stage of our golden years, we can smile fondly at those happy, fun memories. These days, we have, or dodge, arthritis, bursitis, and constipation, always a grey consternation. Or we can have diarrhoea while dodging euthanasia. Sounds quite alphabetical. We are all hoping we do not go around the bend, before our big “Z” at the end.
Never mind, we awoke, the sun is shining, and the sky is blue. We can appreciate different kinds of love, which comes in different shapes and sizes. Love can stay or flee. At least old chicks do not need contraception, whatever. Too hilarious. There can be love for family and good company, or for fur friends, or for good friendship. Once love was all we knew, and it was so much fun.
Older people can still kick up their heels, but most of us live on the mild side of life. There is no need for strife and fuss. Most of us are more home-based, dwelling in our local communities, hoping for new days if there is ever a post-pandemic world. This might be a while arriving here, so we should look on the bright side of life. We must take nothing for granted with anyone’s health, no one can. Peaceful days and fun memories are different kinds of love. Love was all we knew once, we made our own fun.