Let’s talk about love, which may be a little messy, a little amazing, and sometimes unexpected. Not the kind of love that burns bright and fast when you’re young, but the kind that comes gently, maybe after a few decades, and wraps around you like a warm sweater you didn’t know you still had. The type of love that says, “Hey, I’m still here, and I’ve been waiting for you.”
For a long time, we’ve thought of love and romance as a young person’s game. And sure, the butterflies and wild passion get a lot of airtime. But what about those of us who’ve been around a little longer, who’ve loved and lost, who’ve raised kids and buried dreams, and still wake up every day with a wide-open heart?
That’s the story Tampa Airport Proposal, A Love Story tells so beautifully. Dr. Thomas McMeekin, the author of the book, didn’t just find love late in life. He rediscovered it. A reconnection with a high school crush sparked what became a whirlwind romance full of laughter, poetry, late-night FaceTimes, and eventually, a surprise public proposal that went viral. Yes, it’s viral, even at almost 80 years old.
Some people would claim that’s just a nice story. But it’s more than that. It’s proof. Proof that mental health doesn’t have a time limit. That healing is possible, even after years of heartache, loss, or just being alone. And that love, true soul-affirming love, can be one of the most potent forms of medicine we have, especially as we get older.
Let’s be real. Getting older isn’t always easy. Your body starts doing weird stuff, friends move away or pass on, and you might feel like the world’s getting a little quieter. And in that silence, sometimes, the sadness creeps in. But love comes in like a light in the dark.
In later years, love isn’t about fireworks. It’s all about being comfortable. It’s when someone leans over in the middle of the night, takes your hand, and tells you you’re not alone. It’s about having breakfast together, telling jokes that only the two of you get, and someone knowing your kids’ names and the story behind the scar on your knee.
Science backs this up, too. Studies have shown that seniors in loving, committed relationships have lower rates of depression and anxiety. They’re more likely to stay active, socially connected, and mentally sharp. Why? Because love gives us purpose. It gives us something, or someone, to show up for.
What struck me most in McMeekin’s story was how vulnerable and honest both he and Nancy were with each other. They talked about their pasts, the marriages that hadn’t worked, the mistakes, and the regrets, yet they still chose each other. There was no pretending. Just two people showing up as they were, gray hairs, baggage, and all.
And maybe that’s the secret. When you’re older, you stop needing love to look a certain way. You need it to feel right. To feel kind. To feel safe. And when it does, something amazing happens. You soften. The walls you’ve built up over decades start to come down. You begin to believe, maybe for the first time in years, that it’s okay to be cared for.
There’s also a kind of joy that comes with later-in-life love that’s hard to explain. It’s quieter, yes, but also deeper. It’s looking across the room and knowing the other person gets you. It’s not about fixing each other. It’s about walking each other home.
I think one of the reasons McMeekin’s story hit such a chord with people (millions watched that airport proposal video, by the way) is because, deep down, we all want to believe that it’s not too late. That the best chapters of our lives might still be unwritten.
And here comes this dermatologist from Florida, in his late seventies, proving just that. He didn’t just fall in love. He packed up his life, moved across the country, and started over. That takes guts. That takes hope. And if that’s not healing, I don’t know what is.
There’s a part in the book where he writes daily love notes to Nancy, often ending with quotes or poems. They’re not big speeches; they’re just simple reminders of what’s essential. Of linking. Of being noticed. And to be honest, in a world that goes too quickly and where relationships are often just swipes and emoticons, that type of compassion seems crazy.
So, if you’re in your 60s, 70s, 80s, or even 90s and believe the love ship has sailed, think again. It might just be circling the harbor, waiting for the right moment to dock. And when it does, it might not just bring romance. It might bring healing. It might mend the parts of you that even time couldn’t touch.
Because the heart doesn’t keep time the way the clock does, it beats for connection. For kindness. For a soft place to land. And love? Love is always worth the wait.