As I sit in a coffee shop, an old couple relax just outside the window sharing another cup of coffee that has probably become routine. I can see a twinkle in her eye, as if it was their first date all over again. She giggles and his hand rests comfortably on hers, gently kneading with his thumb, her frail, aged hand.
I can't hear what they say, but I imagine they reminisce about the many years they've spent together. Retelling the same, yet somehow still intriguing, stories. Each taking their turn and listening intently to the other, as if nothing else in the world matters or even exists at that moment.
They get up to leave, and he leads. He stands, his pants far above his waist, tightened by a belt that has seen better days, his button-down shirt tucked in securely. He adjusts his glasses. Slightly hunched over, he walks around the table placing one hand on his wife's back and extending the other. She places her hand in his. Slowly, she stands exerting every ounce of strength in the act, relying heavily on the help of her husband. When she reaches her strong 5 foot height, he hands her her cane without removing his hand from her back. They retreat down the street, walking in step with each other, his arm now holding her close to his side.
Slow, steady steps, but steps of assurance. I watch them as they disappear into the mass of people. They are distinguished, their slow pace against the world that rushes chaotically around them. They could not look more content, more peaceful, more in love. I catch a final glimpse as they reach the top of the hill and head another direction.
I hope they return tomorrow.
1 comment:
Once again, beautiful imagery. It’s great to see love that conquers time in an age where half of all marriages end in divorce. Old love keeps you believing that true love can really exist between two people. They are like a real-life version of the notebook, lol.
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