At 99, Dick Van Dyke still makes Hollywood admire him not only for his health but also for his ageless love. On their 13th wedding anniversary, he and his eldest son unexpectedly performed a fun tap dance for his young wife, Arlene Silver, who is 46 years his junior. The fedora, leather shoes, and sparkling smile of his 99 years—he was still the same elegant gentleman as the day they first met. Arlene was moved to tears, and the audience could only exclaim, “Is this love real?” For Van Dyke, love is not measured by age—but by the dance moves that keep a promise for life. What’s more special is that the performance took place not in the spotlight but in the small garden behind their house in Malibu—where the scent of lavender and jasmine filled the late afternoon air. Twinkling yellow lights hung from the branches, wooden chairs were covered with white lace, and an old record player played familiar swing music

At 99, Dick Van Dyke continues to defy time—not just with his sprightly health and unwavering charm, but with a love story that still feels like a fairy tale. On the occasion of his 13th wedding anniversary with Arlene Silver, who is 46 years his junior, Van Dyke once again reminded the world that age is no match for joy, devotion, and the perfect pair of tap shoes.

In the soft golden glow of a Malibu sunset, not under studio lights but in the quiet intimacy of their own garden, magic happened. The scent of lavender and jasmine drifted through the air as twinkling yellow lights swayed gently from the trees. Friends and family sat on wooden chairs draped in white lace, sipping lemonade and watching in awe as Van Dyke appeared—fedora on, leather shoes polished, his familiar grin sparkling brighter than ever.

Without warning, he launched into a cheerful tap routine with his eldest son by his side. The two moved in perfect rhythm, their shoes clicking in sync on the stone patio. It wasn’t a performance for fame or attention—it was a private gift, a living promise. Arlene Silver stood frozen, tears welling up as her husband, nearing a century of life, danced like the boy he once was—and the man he still is.

The moment felt timeless. Swing music crackled from an old record player in the corner, and for a brief time, it was as though the decades melted away.

When the dance ended, there was no roaring applause—just quiet gasps, a few sniffles, and one whispered question from a guest: *“Is this love real?”*

And yes—it was. In every step, every beat, every twirl beneath the trees, it was undeniable. For Dick Van Dyke, love sti

ll dances.