LOVE IS HARD THE SECOND TIME AROUND; LONELINESS IS HARDER STILL

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: TUESDAY, February 9, 1993                   TAG: 9302090141
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: B3   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BRUCE TAYLOR SEEMAN
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH                                LENGTH: Medium
LOVE IS HARD THE SECOND TIME AROUND; LONELINESS IS HARDER STILL
Older men like Emmette C. Skinner Sr. don't necessarily seek their standing as born-again Romeos. Sometimes it just happens.
As a young man, Skinner found his love, a brown-haired teacher named Lillie. They married, bought a home, raised four children and grew old. Skinner devoted 57 years to his mate. She died in 1984.
In his room at the First Colonial Inn retirement home in Virginia Beach, the gentle, willowy Skinner still mourns the passing of Lillie, sometimes moving toward tears when he looks to her framed photo propped atop the television.
There are other times, however, when Skinner allows himself the pleasure of going downstairs to the lobby or dining room, where the 88-year-old cheerfully works the crowd.
"I have a lot of nice friends . . . and most of them are women, I have to admit," he said. "Some of them call me a womanizer. But I don't womanize them, I just enjoy life. And I enjoy being with the women."
As Americans live longer, increasing numbers of men find themselves in the same shoes as Skinner - older, single and getting accustomed to a second life as a bachelor in demand.
The reason for older men's twilight popularity is a simple case of supply and demand: While people in general are benefiting from improved health habits and medical advancements, women still outlive men by far.
Nationwide, there are five widows for every widower, according to the American Association of Retired Persons.
In many ways, single seniors who re-enter the dating scene tiptoe through the same rituals they did 30, 40 or even 50 years ago, asking friends to find out who's available, making nervous trips to popular hot spots.
Beyond the flirting, however, playing the field is often more complicated for seniors.
After decades of marriage, many feel guilty about dating, still tied to the memory of a former spouse or dissuaded by skeptical reactions from children.
Money, too, plays a major role. After setting aside savings for years with one spouse, seniors may be reluctant to share their nest egg.
Committing to a new mate may be a huge personal gamble. After a lifetime of establishing routine, many seniors are unwilling to adjust to a new husband or wife. Others are afraid to be paired with someone in failing health.
Emily Costa, a 68-year-old widow, said she cared for her husband for years before he died.
"I felt it was my obligation to do that for him, after what he did for me," Costa said. "But I don't want to start all over again. I want to be free. I'm a butterfly."
Nellouise Stepp, a senior-citizens activities supervisor at the Bayside Recreation Center in Virginia Beach, said many older women on their own admit to a hunger for intimacy - not sex, necessarily, but affection.
"There's something about having the male there. They love touching. They'll hold their arms. That's the kind of thing you don't get when you're on your own," Stepp said.
By far, however, older women frustrated by the uneven odds of old age say their greatest enemy is sheer loneliness. They miss someone to talk to, to accompany them to dinner or a movie.
"I want someone who will dance. Companionship. Going someplace with somebody," said Ann Williamson, a Virginia Beach widow in her 70s who has been unmarried for about 10 years.
Men often have the most difficulty being alone after losing a spouse, experts said. Skinner, who used to work at the Norfolk Naval Shipyard, lived alone for 16 months after his wife's death.
"The days were OK," he recalled of the months he spent living alone in the family home in Suffolk. "The nights were horrible."
Skinner stepped back into the social scene a few years ago when he started making weekly visits to the Bow Creek Recreation Center in Virginia Beach.
Recently, Skinner said, he checked out of the retirement home temporarily because of health problems; he needed an adjustment to his pacemaker. When he returned, the welcome was overwhelming.
"When I came back from the hospital, you would have thought I came back from World War II and shot down six German planes. I get plenty of attention, I'll say. Probably too much. But I like to be liked."

by Archana Subramaniam by CNB