Mine is a later-in-life story. I was 50 with a one-woman, relatively successful business when I fell in love with a man 15 years my senior surviving on nothing but a very modest monthly social security payment. Having immigrated to the USA at thirty, he had fewer years in the SSA pool and many years at low income jobs. Still, he supported a stay-at-home wife and five children. I gladly go to work every day knowing he keeps our home humming along smoothly. As time passed, he is unable to do all he used to, but, still, he provides most of the care for our five pets — pets we wouldn’t have if not for me , he makes breakfast each morning and dinner each evening, and he does all the laundry and dishes. Due to health issues, he can no longer manage the housework like vacuuming, moping, dusting, and cleaning bathrooms but I gladly do those or, when my time is tight, I hire help. I work long hours and being able to sleep 30 more minutes because he is feeding pets and making breakfast, coming home to dinner on the table, and having a closet full of clean clothes is priceless. His success is the happy life he lived and his five children, four of whom graduated college. His education was on the streets. He immigrated not knowing English but reads books the average American would not tackle. He says his job now is taking care of me and making me happy. How could I ask for more than that?

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