05/10/2026
I cherish my wife, who is 15 years my senior, and she brought along two children. A boy, nearly three years old, and a girl, aged eleven. Even she was puzzled as to why I would choose her, believing she had considerable baggage. She inquired, βHow is this going to work? Iβm so much older than you?β
I responded, βItβs simply a matter of mathematics. Iβm 23 and youβre 38. Therefore, when I reach 50, you will be 65, and so forth.β
She countered, βIβm too old to have any more children.β
I replied, βWhat is wrong with the two we already have?β
She questioned, βLet me clarify. You intend to raise another manβs children?β
I answered, βNo. I love you, and they are part of you. How could I not love them?β
That was 32 years ago. The children are now adults. I am 55, and she is 70. She is the love of my life, and I am hers. Our son is 35 and works as a general practitioner, while our daughter is nearly 43 and earns a six-figure salary in the finance sector. They refer to me as Dad, and they call their biological father by his first name.
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γ
