They moved in tandem but with the precision of one. Their elbows were close together and their gait a bit unsteady, but they made headway as they inched slowly up the aisle in front of me. He pushed the carriage in a way that exuded pride, as if he were behind the wheel of a fine automobile, his best girl beside him. She was content to browse the shelves. They were discussing the finer points of pickles. He liked thesweet ones with the cauliflower in the jar. She wrinkled her already ageless face and said, oh no, you know Im a dill pickle girl. They chuckled as if to some private joke, and as they did, she leaned her head against his bony shoulder. They noticed me late in their pickle conversation and looked a bit startled as I approached from behind them, my shopping cart jumping slightly from an unruly fourth wheel, that couldnt quite keep up with the other three. He moved slowly to the far left of the aisle, to let me pass, and as he did , both of them looked at me with slight amusement. I realized that they had many, many years between them. Let the man pass, dear, she said to him. We cant hold up progress. And you cant improve on perfection,he answered, leaning in to kiss her forehead. Sixty six years next month, he said to me proudly. Each one better than the last. I smiled my proud smile and said congratulations. As my squeaky carriage turned the corner, I realized I had just witnessed one of Gods gifts. The gift of a lifetime spent together. Something many of us take for granted. And few of us ever have...
Posted on: Fri, 11 Jul 2014 07:02:51 +0000
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