I hate to shop. My daughter lives to shop. So we compromise. We go to our local mall together and she shops while I sit in the food court and drink coffee and watch people.
On this particular Saturday an elderly couple caught my eye. They looked alike. I've heard it said that the longer you live with someone the more you look alike. These two were the cutest bookends that I had ever seen.
I watched as he pulled out her chair and helped her sit down. He shuffled slowly over to the Wendy's counter returning with one large fry and two small coffees. It was then I noticed that she had the familiar tremors of Parkinson's.
The gentleman put the tray down in front of his wife and slowly removed his coat and hat placing them on the empty chair beside him. Then he walked behind his wife's chair and helped her out of her coat as gently as he could.
After he sat down , he removed the lid off both coffees and prepared them according to their specific tastes. The whole time he chatted. His wife just smiled at him with her eyes. I imagined that in their earlier years she had been the chatterbox, and now was his chance to get a word in edgewise.
As I put the cream in my own coffee and watched the white clouds blend with the dark rich liquid I imagined them in their younger years. I could see them sharing a root beer float at the local Five and Dime soda fountain. She was his first crush and he was her first kiss. They cuddled to Frank Sinatra’s crooning. She waited for him to return from the war. And they danced to Cole Porter’s Night and Day for their wedding dance.
"I promise to love you in sickness and in health, until death do us part."
Marriage vows uttered years ago were still being honored by both today. A lump was growing in my throat as I watched him caring for her now. He placed the yellow paper napkin around her neck. He handed her one French fry at a time making sure it wasn't too hot. He steadied her better hand around the Styrofoam coffee cup and helped her raise the cup to her lips. The whole time he just chatted. And she responded only with her eyes.
The tears began to well in my eyes and I had to look away. Not from pity or sadness, but from the sheer beauty of lasting love. But I couldn't glance away for long. I had to watch them. They had captured me. A prisoner of love I guess you could say.
They had finished their treat. He rose again and first put on his jacket and hat. He took his beloved by the arm and steadied her as she stood. He gently helped her ease into her coat again. He lovingly tied her scarf around her neck.
Arm in arm they walked to the down escalator. She held on to the railing and he wrapped his arm around her waist. He was her rock and she was his strength.
I uttered a prayer that God would take care of them in the time that they had left together. Love like that deserved rewarding.
As I gulped my last mouthful of coffee it had a much sweeter taste. Perhaps you can conclude that the sugar had settled to the bottom of the cup but I think it was more because of the lesson this couple had taught me.
After watching them I learned that love doesn't grow old, it simply grows.
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